The Samantha Wolf Mysteries Box Set: Books 1-3 Page 4

  She can hear Ally calling to her, but fights to control her rising panic before responding, sure that at any moment something is going to grab her feet. She finally turns at the sound of splashing behind her and watches as Ally swims smoothly up to her. Thankfully, Ally’s lifejacket is still on, and she has Sam’s vest in one of her hands.

  “Here, you lost something,” Ally gasps, looking down into the dark water as they both float next to the upside-down boat.

  “Thanks.” Sam takes it gratefully. They are both good swimmers, but have enough sense to know they can’t take chances this far from shore. “What in the world happened?” she asks Ally, hoping that she saw something.

  “The only thing I know is that I want to get out of here now,” Ally replies, grabbing a side of the boat. “There’s no way we’re going to get this boat turned back over out here, but we might be able to swim and pull it to shore. We aren’t that far away.”

  “Yeah, okay…let’s get out of here,” Sam agrees as she quickly paddles to the opposite side of the boat. With some effort, they begin to swim for the dock. Within twenty minutes they reach their destination. After turning the boat upright, they collapse on the end of the pier, exhausted.

  “Well, that was definitely not a fish,” Ally says, stating the obvious. She sits up to wring the water out of her shirt. “Maybe we’ll see whoever it was when they get out of the water.”

  “Not likely,” Sam says, shaking her head. “There are hundreds of places along the shore where someone could climb out unnoticed. And something tells me whoever it was doesn’t want to be seen.”

  “Sam, let’s go back now.” Ally suddenly realizes how serious the situation could have been. She nervously scans the lake while pulling her sopping wet old high tops back on, and stands up. “I think it’s clear we’re not wanted here.”

  “That’s exactly why we’re staying!” Sam says stubbornly. “Or at least until we’re dry and have some lunch. Thank goodness we left our food on the dock!”

  “I don’t see how you can think of eating when someone just tried to drown us,” Ally protests. But she bites into the ham sandwich Sam gives her and chews hungrily.

  Within an hour, they are just about dry and heading back on the trail towards the inn. Ally has to walk quickly to keep up with Sam’s fast pace. “Your aunt’s going to flip when she finds out about this.”

  “No,” Sam objects. “We aren’t going to tell her anything except what a wonderful day we’ve had.”

  “Why not?” Ally asks, getting frustrated. “They need to do something, Sam, or at least know what someone did to us, even if it does mean having to go home. We need to think about what’s best for your aunt and uncle, too.”

  “That’s exactly why we aren’t going to tell them,” Sam explains, noting Ally’s questioning look. “I think,” Sam continues, “that whoever was in the lake is the same person who’s ‘haunting’ the inn. They knew we had life vests on and weren’t that far from shore. I don’t think they meant us any real harm.

  “Don’t you see? They believe that by scaring us, they’ll also scare Aunt Beth and Uncle Bill. And if they scare the guests, too, that could even bankrupt Hollow Inn. That must be their goal; they want my aunt and uncle to give up and leave.”

  “But who would do such a thing, and why?” Ally asks.

  “The ‘who’, I don’t know,” Sam answers, “but the why is pretty obvious. Someone is still trying to find Shawn Hollow’s money.”

  “Of course!” Ally shouts, now seeing Sam’s train of thought. “Without anyone around to get in their way, it would make hunting for it a lot easier. But what can we do?”

  Sam stops in the middle of the forest path and faces Ally. “I’ll tell you what we’re going to do,” she says defiantly. “We’re going to find it first! And we’ll start by reading that journal from cover to cover.”

  7

  THE JOURNAL

  Sam and Ally emerge from the woods at the edge of the clearing where Hollow Inn stands. They lingered on their way back so her aunt wouldn’t wonder why they didn’t stay at the lake longer. It’s now about 4:30, and evening is drawing near. A breeze rustles through the many trees scattered on the slope in front of the big house, causing birds to take flight. A few land on the rim of a bronze bird bath with an angel in the middle.

  “This is an incredible place, Ally. I won’t let anyone steal it from them,” Sam vows as they make their way towards the inn.

  They walk slowly along a rock path, past the bird bath, and then a bungalow where the staff live. As they reach the back door of the inn, they smell onions frying and bread baking. Sam is thinking over the events of the day when they walk into the kitchen. She doesn’t hear the question her aunt asks her.

  “Sam,” Beth repeats. “I said, ‘how was the lake’?”

  Sam snaps to attention and blushes. “Sorry, Aunt Beth,” she apologizes. “I was just daydreaming about how beautiful this whole place is. I can see why you love it so much.”

  “Thank you, dear,” Beth replies. “I take that to mean you had a nice time? Did you find the boat?”

  “Oh, we found it all right!” Ally chirps, then stammers, “I mean, it was right where you said it would be.” Before Beth can ask any more questions, the two girls excuse themselves and run upstairs, saying they need to change.

  “Dinner will be ready in about forty-five minutes!” Beth calls after them.

  “That was close!” Sam says, once they are in Ally’s room.

  “Yeah, sorry, I almost slipped. I’m just not used to keeping things from people. I hope you’re right about not telling them.”

  “I’m sure I am,” Sam assures her friend, as she passes through the connecting door and disappears into her own room. At least I hope I am, she thinks to herself.

  Sighing, she picks up the old book. “I know there must be something in here about where the money is,” she says out loud to no one in particular. Always eager to solve a mystery, this is the first time Sam has actually found one. The logical part of her brain says to go downstairs right now and tell her aunt what happened at the lake. But the adventurous spirit in her says otherwise.

  “I have a feeling,” she says softly to the diary in her hands, “that if you can tell us where the money is, we’ll find our ghost. And I’m willing to bet that it’s not Joseph Hollow.”

  ***

  Sam and Ally make it back downstairs in time to help set the big, formal dining room table. It’s opposite the kitchen on the other side of the foyer and adjoins a large family room that they glimpsed last night. Just like the stairs, the table and all the original furniture in the other impressive room are made of a dark, rich oak.

  Dinner consists of a large pot roast accompanied by all the traditional trimmings. The girls offered to help earlier, but Beth explained that they employed one maid to take care of cleaning the guest rooms and to help serve meals.

  As they sit down to eat, Ted and the maid join the four of them. It’s obvious immediately that Bill and Beth are well liked by their employees. As they exchange happy chatter, not one word of the “ghost,” or the disabled lights is mentioned.

  Sam is aching to get back upstairs to the journal, but she follows her uncle obligingly into the family room after supper. She is there to visit with them, after all. The mystery can wait for a little while.

  Ted excuses himself for the evening, and the maid busies herself with clearing the table, flatly refusing any assistance from Sam and Ally. Bill lights a sweet-smelling pipe, taking Sam back to other nights of family gatherings.

  “So, Sam,” he says, “what do you think of the old place?”

  “I was just telling Aunt Beth this afternoon how wonderful I think it is,” she replies sincerely. “You’ve put a lot of work into it.”

  “Thank you so much for inviting us,” Ally adds. “We’re really enjoying ourselves.” She glances guiltily at Sam, unnoticed by Mr. Clark.

  “Well, I know there isn’t that much to do around here
.” Bill stretches out on an old leather recliner and puts his feet up. “It’s just a place to relax and enjoy nature.”

  “There’s plenty to do,” Sam tells him, taking a seat on the overstuffed couch. “You just have to know where to look.”

  “Fortunately, we know where some of those places are!” Beth says happily. “In fact, Ted has agreed to lead you on a hike tomorrow to one of the popular features, if you’re interested.”

  “Of course we are!” Ally says, intrigued. “What is it?”

  “Mr. Hollow named several natural formations after his family, like the lake,” Beth explains. “One of them is a bluff that overlooks the valley. It’s a ways to get to it, but a very nice hike. The property spreads out for almost two hundred acres, so you can go a long ways before you are actually lost!”

  “Good thing I brought a compass with me then,” Sam tells her. “I didn’t realize it was that big!”

  “If we can get things on track with the inn,” Bill explains, “we want to build cabins down on the lake to rent out, a central hall for guest activities, and a small store.”

  “That sounds amazing!” Ally says. “My parents would love to stay at something like that. You could even rent out boats and maybe get some horses and do trail rides and…”

  “Whoa…,” Bill laughs, holding out his hands. “One hurdle at a time. First, we have to get past this whole legend thing and bring in some paying customers. Maybe if we can make it more than a couple days without stories about mysterious disruptions here, we’ll be okay.”

  Sam and Ally look at each other, glad that they decided to keep the lake incident to themselves. If a story like that made it back to town, it would be hard to explain. It would be better to keep it under wraps until they figured out who was behind it.

  “Have you seen these pictures before, Sam?”

  Turning, she finds that her aunt has brought out a large photo album. Beth has it opened to some old pictures of Sam as a toddler. Laughing, she shakes her head and takes the album into her lap.

  “Wow,” Sam groans.

  Ally scoots in close and the girls spend the next hour going through the whole album, talking about the family reunions and other events where the photos were taken.

  When they get to the end, Aunt Beth puts the album away and tells the girls to follow her. Intrigued, they are led through a maze of rooms at the back of the house, until they eventually reach a small, neat library. There, Beth turns on the inn’s only computer and invites them to get caught up with their friends.

  Ally eagerly logs on to her favorite social media account, but soon discovers just how slow a dial-up modem is. After waiting nearly five minutes to load just one video, the girls quickly give up and turn the computer off. Sam is almost relieved, happy instead to explore some of the rooms before returning to where her aunt and uncle are.

  Uncle Bill smiles when they enter the room, patting his generous stomach. “I’ll take a big slice of that chocolate cake you’ve got stashed out there,” he says eagerly to Aunt Beth.

  “I’m sure you will!” she says, smiling broadly. “How about you girls?” she asks, heading for the kitchen. “Would you like a piece?”

  Though it sounds good, Sam can’t wait another minute to get upstairs. “None for me, thanks,” she says quickly. “I’m pretty tired. I think I’ll turn in early.”

  “Me too!” Ally adds.

  “Well, I think that’s a good idea,” Beth agrees. “You’ll need to be up bright and early tomorrow morning for your hike.” They all exchange goodnights. Soon Sam and Ally are seated on Sam’s bed, the journal between them.

  “You read it,” Ally says, folding her legs under her nightgown. “You’re a much better reader than I am.”

  “Okay,” Sam agrees, opening the old book to the first page. “Here goes!”

  June 18, 1903

  Well, I’ve finally done it! I’ve built the house of our dreams for my beautiful wife. Two years ago I felt that all was lost with the death of my brother in the mine. However, I have found a way to honor his memory by turning this property into something else.

  We’re set high up in the mountains, with our nearest neighbor ten miles away. If you look out the front yard, you can see a lake nestled in the woods. I’m naming this lake after Florence, since their beauty is comparable. When our children arrive I will in turn name a landmark after each of them, so our names will linger long after our souls are laid to rest.”

  “Geez,” Ally sighs, “your aunt was right. Shawn really was a poetic writer.”

  “I’m more interested in the mine he mentioned,” Sam states. “Is that how he got all his money? A gold mine?”

  Hoping for more answers, Sam continues reading for another hour, but soon becomes discouraged. Most of the journal contains boring tales of kids doing unspectacular things and neighbors coming for visits. After skimming several more pages, she finally finds something fascinating:

  November 15, 1924

  Last week I hired a young girl from town to sit as a midwife with Florence. With the other three boys to look after and the property to manage, I just don’t have the time for Florence. Nancy seems to be quite able as a midwife and she fits in very nicely. I’m already feeling a kind of kinship towards her. She was orphaned at the age of twelve and she says this is her first real home.

  Sam closes the book and creases her brow. “This is almost where we were last night, when Florence dies. You’d think he would have said something about his money by now.” Sam looks at her friend for confirmation.

  “I suppose you’re right,” Ally admits, heading for her room. “If there really were something in there, I think the son who already found and read the book would have discovered what it was. Or whoever else has read it since then.”

  Trying not to give up hope, Sam picks up her cup of water off the nightstand and takes a long drink. Her throat is dry after reading out loud for so long. “Not necessarily,” she calls to Ally in the other room, flipping through the pages with her other hand. “They might not have figured it out if it weren’t obvious.”

  “Time for some fun!” Ally suddenly yells, appearing back at the door with two large pillows in her hands. Before Sam can tell her to wait, a pillow comes sailing and hits her square in the chest, knocking the glass from her hand.

  “No!” she gasps, looking down in horror at the old journal in her lap, now soaked with water.

  “I’m so sorry!” Ally cries, running to the bed, the other pillow falling to the floor.

  “Quick, get me a towel or something!” Sam pleads, not knowing what else to do. Ally runs across the hall to the nearest bathroom and reappears with two towels and a washcloth, looking pale.

  Sam has the journal open on the floor, desperately trying to mop the water off with the hem of her nightshirt. The old ink starts to smear, and tears spring to her eyes as the reality of the situation sets in.

  Taking one of the towels from Ally, she presses down gently and blots at the paper, with better results. Taking several breaths, she tells herself not to freak out. Maybe it’s just a few pages.

  After some careful work, she gets to the back cover. The inside is obviously hand sewn, with a yellowing, printed fabric tacked to some kind of board. The water has soaked through it, and Sam is afraid that it could fall apart if she touches it. It might be better to just let it dry.

  Looking at it more carefully, she notices that the wet fabric has become transparent. Underneath is an unmistakable outline of a folded sheet of paper. “What’s this?” she mutters softly, feeling along the slightly raised edge. “Ally, please go get me the scissors I saw on the dresser.”

  Confused, Ally does as she asks and finds the scissors next to the rest of a small manicure set. “What are you going to do?” she asks, handing them to Sam.

  Without replying, Sam shoves a metal point into the sewn seam of the cover and quickly cuts the old fabric open.

  8

  A POEM

  “What in the world!�
� Ally exclaims. “You don’t have any right to do that! It’s bad enough we spilled water on it. Have you gone crazy? Your aunt is going to…” She breaks off her complaints abruptly as Sam withdraws a yellowed, thankfully dry piece of paper from inside the journal’s back cover.

  “A map!” Sam practically yells. But her look of accomplishment turns to one of confusion as she carefully unfolds the document.

  “What is it?” Ally asks, curious now, trying to peer over Sam’s shoulder.

  “Well, it’s not a map,” Sam says lamely. “It looks like it’s some sort of poem.” She stares at it intensely for a minute, and then suddenly her face brightens again. “Ally,” she says, “I was right in the first place! I mean, it’s not the kind of map where ‘X’ marks the spot, but I think it tells us where the money is. Only…I can’t figure it out.”

  “Read it to me!” Ally presses. “Maybe if we put our heads together, we can make some sense of it.”

  Nodding, Sam holds up the fragile piece of paper:

  “My dear Florence, you have gone and taken with you my soul. So I will place my life’s endeavors where forever, your beauty I’ll hold.

  I lay within a body of flight, and pray for my safe keeping. For in our sons, the taste of greed, in their veins is seeping.

  The sun does set on your golden head and I watch, ever waiting. For the earth to move and us to meet, our love once again unabated.”

  “Now what can that possibly mean?” Sam asks Ally. “He says, ‘my life’s endeavors’. That has to be the money, obviously.”

  Ally takes the poem and looks it over. “I agree. But I can’t figure it out, either. ‘I lay within a body of flight.’ What’s that, a bird? I don’t know where that could be.”