And Benny, hungry as ever, ordered two cookies.
After Jenna set their plates down, she asked, “Would you like anything else right now?”
“Well, we have kind of a strange question to ask,” Jessie began.
“Oh? What’s that?”
“Yesterday, some time in the afternoon, did a man come in here with a little dog?”
Jenna laughed. “Sure did. It was that Gilbert Finch character!”
The Aldens were stunned. “You know him?” Jessie asked.
“Of course. We all do. Hey George!”
The door to the kitchen opened, and a man wearing a white apron came out.
“Yes?”
“These kids are asking about Gilbert, when he came in yesterday with that dog.”
George gave a little laugh, too. “Oh, it’s always interesting when Gil comes in here,” George said. “We gave him a towel so he could dry off the dog, who was so scared he was shaking. Then Gil got him a little bowl of milk. They both sat in here until the storm died down.”
“Did he try to call anyone?” Violet asked.
“Couldn’t,” George said. “The phones haven’t been working since the storm. One of the main lines must’ve been knocked out.”
Then George pointed to a large photograph in a frame that was hanging on the wall.
“See? He’s been coming in here for ages.”
It was another picture of Mr. Finch. At the bottom he’d written, To George and Jenna, who make the best coffee in the whole Northeast. Your friend, Gilbert Finch. Right next to it, the Aldens couldn’t help but notice, was the signed photograph of another famous local author—Daniel Van Buren.
And the inscription he wrote was, I agree with everything Gil said.
CHAPTER 8
The Little Engines That Couldn’t
“I think you were right, Henry,” Jessie said, still staring at the two pictures. “Mr. Finch and Mr. Van Buren don’t seem to be enemies at all.”
“And I was thinking about something,” Violet added. “Remember that book Mr. Finch published a long time ago called Lost in the Mountains?”
“That was one of the best ever!” Benny proclaimed.
“It sure was,” Violet agreed. “And remember the dedication page? He wrote,
‘This one is for Danny Boy.’ What if Danny Boy was Mr. Van Buren? His first name is Daniel, after all.”
“And there was also a character in that story named ‘Dennis Van Bowlen,’ wasn’t there?” Jessie asked.
“That’s right,” Henry replied. “I’ll bet Mr. Finch named him in honor of Van Buren. The two names are certainly very similar.”
Jessie was nodding. “I think it’s clear where we need to go next.”
“It sure is,” Henry replied.
Jenna was kind enough to give the Aldens a lift to Daniel Van Buren’s home during her lunch break. As soon as they made their way down the winding gravel driveway the house came into view, they all stopped, speechless.
“Are you all thinking what I’m thinking?” Jessie asked.
“I think so,” Violet replied.
Daniel Van Buren’s home was clearly an old barn. It was painted white, but a few cracks around the edges revealed that the original color was red. And the shutters on either side of the windows were black.
“Just like in that article we read,” Henry said.
Violet was nodding. “This is where Mr. Finch sometimes goes to write. This is his secret hideaway!”
“So much for them being enemies!” Benny said.
Standing on the front step, they rang the bell and waited. A moment later, the enormous door flew back, and an older woman stood there with her hands on her hips.
“Yes?”
“Uh, I’m sorry,” Jessie began, “but could you please tell us if Mr. Van Buren is home?”
“No, not since early yesterday. Who may I ask is calling?”
“We’re the Aldens,” Henry told her, “and we’re trying to find a friend of his. His name is Gilbert Finch.”
“Ah yes, Gilbert. He was here up until a little while ago, I believe. I’m Rita, Mr. Van Buren’s housekeeper.”
“Oh, okay,” Henry said. “Well, we need to find Mr. Finch. You said he was here?”
“Yes, although I’m not sure when. I’ve been visiting my sister since yesterday afternoon, so I’ve been out. But Gilbert has his own key, and he sure left a mess for me to clean up.”
“What kind of a mess?” Violet asked.
“Wet clothes?” Jessie guessed.
“Muddy shoes?” Henry added.
“Yes, that’s right. How did you know?”
“We’re detectives!” Benny told Rita, and then Henry gave her a quick rundown of everything that had happened so far.
When he was finished, Rita said, “Well, maybe you can tell me what this is, then.” She turned the broom around and pulled out some fine white hair. “I’ve never seen anything like it in the house before.”
Jessie took a handful and examined it. The others did the same. There was little doubt as to what it was …
“Dog hair,” Jessie said.
“Dog hair?” Rita groaned and shook her head. “I’ll have to do the floors again.”
Henry said, “Do you mind if we come in and take a quick look around for more clues? If we see any more dog hair, we promise to clean it up.”
“Sure. Just don’t make a mess.”
“We won’t,” Jessie assured her.
They went from room to room, looking and not touching. There was a small laundry area in the back, with a washer and dryer. The children found two small bowls on the floor. One still had some cracker crumbs in the bottom, and the other had a tiny puddle of water. Then they found Finch’s rain-soaked clothes in the sink—a handsome houndstooth blazer, a torn white dress shirt, and a pair of black leather shoes that were probably very nice at one time but now appeared completely ruined. And lying in a nearby trash can was a cell phone. When the Aldens tried turning it on, nothing happened—it was ruined.
When they went upstairs, they found two towels piled in a corner of Van Buren’s guest room—one was stained with dirt, the other had more fine white hair all over it. It also had that same horrible dog-shampoo smell that was in the fourth car of the train.
“He must’ve taken a shower with one towel, and dried off the dog with the other,” Henry said. They also noticed that the bed had been slept in. It was still unmade.
Jessie picked up the telephone on the nightstand and put it to her ear. “Still doesn’t work,” she said. “So that explains why he didn’t call us again.”
The others nodded as these pieces of this mystery fell neatly into place.
“But then we end up with the same problem as before,” Jessie told them. “Which is …”
“Where is he now?” asked Violet. “We keep missing him!” Benny said.
“Exactly,” Henry replied. “We’re on the right trail, but we’re too far behind.”
Violet looked at a pendulum clock that was hanging on the wall. “And there’s so little time left before the reading at the library!”
Then Jessie said, “I’ve been thinking … if you came here out of the blue, just like Mr. Finch did, stayed the night, took some clothes and some food, and then left—and the person who owned the house was an old friend—wouldn’t you leave a note of some kind?”
“I certainly would,” Violet said.
Henry snapped his fingers. “Hey, remember in that one book of his, The Jade Flower of Japan, when the boy left the message for his mom by putting it on the computer?”
“Oh yeah!” Jessie said. “Then he turned off the screen so those guys chasing him wouldn’t see it!”
“But he knew his mom would, as soon as she turned it on again.”
“Do you think Mr. Finch did that here?” Violet asked.
“It’s worth checking out,” Henry replied. “We didn’t see a note anywhere else, and Van Buren is probably on his computer ev
ery day. It’s the perfect place to put it.”
The Aldens hurried down the hall and back into Mr. Van Buren’s office. It was a warm and cheerful place, especially for anyone who liked to read—the walls were covered floor-to-ceiling with bookcases and filled with books of every kind. Three huge windows provided a breathtaking view of the hills and mountains beyond. And in the center of the room was Van Buren’s enormous oak desk, covered with papers and more books. His computer was running, the children could tell, because they could hear the hum of the hard drive and the whir of the fan. But the monitor—just as in Finch’s story—was off.
“Here goes,” Henry said, pushing the button. It took a moment for the screen to light up, but when it did, they knew they’d been right. The message was right in front of them. Henry read it aloud:
Danny Boy,
Sorry about the mess—so much has happened since yesterday. I’ll give you the details when I see you. In the meantime, I have to go to the library in Greenfield to meet with some readers. Since I missed the train and there aren’t any others scheduled to go down there today, I’m taking your other car, the old one. I hope you don’t mind!
-Gil
PS—I read some of your new book—the one that’s sitting on your desk here—and it stinks.
Henry chuckled. “Just what I thought—they don’t hate each other. They’re just rivals, that’s all.”
“What’s a rival?” Benny asked.
“Someone who’s trying to outdo you. Mr. Van Buren is trying to sell more books than Mr. Finch. But they’re obviously good friends. They just enjoy teasing each other. That’s all Mr. Van Buren was doing at the library when he was moving around Finch’s books—just giving him a hard time. They’ve probably been doing it to each other for years.”
“And what about this other car?” Jessie said. “Does Mr. Van Buren have an old car?”
Then a voice came from behind them, and it certainly wasn’t Rita’s voice.
“Yes I do,” Daniel Van Buren replied, standing in the doorway. “And it appears that my friend Finch has taken it. But it has a little problem, I’m afraid—it doesn’t run very well.”
CHAPTER 9
The Road Less Traveled
At first the children thought Mr. Van Buren was going to be angry because they were looking for clues in his house. But as he came into the room, a smile spread across his face.
“Rita, my housekeeper, told me what you kids were doing, so I figured I’d drop in and say hello.”
He came over and shook their hands, then leaned down to read the message again.
“Stinks, huh?” he mumbled to himself. “Boy, he’s got some nerve …” Then he looked back at the Aldens and folded his arms.
“So, we’ve lost our friend, have we?” The children were still too stunned by Mr. Van Buren’s tall, imposing figure to say much. Finally Henry said, “Yes, sir. You see—”
“Sir?” he said with a laugh. “Don’t call me that, young man. It makes me sound old! ‘Daniel’ will do fine.”
Henry looked at the others and shrugged.
“Well, okay—Daniel.” Henry told Mr. Van Buren everything that had happened up to this point. Mr. Van Buren listened patiently, nodding and stroking his chin.
When Henry was finished, he said, “First of all, I have to tell you all that I’m very, very impressed with your detective skills. I’m guessing you kids do this a lot.”
Jessie chuckled. “You have no idea.”
“Well, your experience shows.”
“Except that we still don’t know where Mr. Finch is,” Violet pointed out. “And we’re running out of time!”
Mr. Van Buren smiled. “Ah, you’d rather have Gil at your library than me, huh?”
The children were quick to say no, of course not, but Mr. Van Buren knew better.
“That’s okay, his books have always been a bit more popular than mine, the little rat. But that’ll change someday,” he said.
“For now, though,” Jessie said, “We should go find him.”
“And get Max back to his family!” Benny added.
Mr. Van Buren nodded. “That’s right,” he said. “Okay, everyone, I’ll do the driving. To the garage!”
The main road between Allerton and Greenfield was a three-lane highway bustling with cars and trucks moving at high speeds. Van Buren drove a big car that groaned like an old lawn mower. The children, strapped into their seats, looked everywhere for signs of Mr. Finch as they bounced along.
“I was building that other car in my free time,” Van Buren told them, speaking loudly because of all the road noise. “It’s sort of my hobby, fixing up old cars. Then I sell them and give the money to charity.”
“That’s so nice!” Violet said.
Van Buren nodded. “I get to do something I enjoy, and people who really need money, get it. That way, everybody wins.”
“If Mr. Finch took the car in the first place,” Jessie said, “then it must run okay, right?”
“Well,” Van Buren replied, “I don’t want to bore you with technical details, but no. It’ll run for awhile, but then it’ll get too hot and conk out. He certainly won’t be able to make it to Greenfield. He’s got to be on the road somewhere, broken down.”
Jessie checked her watch again. It was nearly four o’clock. They only had a few hours left.
One hour was wasted zooming up and down the highway, looking for any signs of Van Buren’s car. The children called Ms. Connally to find out if perhaps Finch had somehow made it and was already there. He hadn’t.
By five-thirty, the Aldens began to lose hope.
“He’s not anywhere on this road,” Violet said. “We’ve been up and down twice already. There’s no way we could have missed him!”
Henry was still looking out the window, saying nothing. Then he suddenly turned around, his eyes wide. “Wait a minute!”
“Do you see him?” Benny asked.
“No, but I was just thinking … Mr. Finch probably left a few hours ago. The housekeeper said he wasn’t there when she got back.”
“So?” Jessie asked. She didn’t see where Henry was going with any of this. Neither did anyone else.
“So, why would Mr. Finch take this road? He wouldn’t need to hurry. He would’ve had plenty of time!”
A smile broke out on Jessie’s face. “Oh yeah …”
“And that got me thinking about something else in his books,” Henry went on. “Have you ever noticed how his characters always avoid main roads when they can?
How they always take back roads instead?” Mr. Van Buren nodded. “Ah yes, that’s right. And that reminds me of something else, too—I remember the first time Gil went down your way. He was visiting some old college friends who lived close to Greenfield. He decided to drive down instead of taking the train. The day after, he called and told me about this beautiful back road he’d discovered. He said it was so much prettier than the highway. All rolling hills and trees, which he likes. Quiet and beautiful.”
“That has to be where he is now!” Benny said. “Let’s go!”
CHAPTER 10
Some Explaining to Do
The back road was exactly as Mr. Van Buren had described it—quiet and beautiful. It cut through a valley surrounded by tree-covered hills. And a lazy river followed it most of the way, the sun sparkling on its rippled surface.
For the first half hour they saw no other cars at all. Jessie checked her watch one last time. “Six o’clock. Only an hour left. And it’ll take us almost that long just to get back to the library!”
Henry nodded slowly. “Yeah,” he said with a sigh. “It looks like he’s not here. And we shouldn’t be late.”
Mr. Van Buren added, “Oh well—I guess everyone in Greenfield is going to have to settle for me tonight!”
He pulled off to the side and began turning around. He decided to head back to the highway, where he could get to Greenfield faster.
Then Benny spotted something out the back window.
>
“Hey, wait a minute!” he said. “What’s that over there? It looks like smoke!”
They all looked. Sure enough, far in the distance, there was a faint puff of smoke rising from behind the next hill.
Jessie said, “We should definitely check it out, but we have to hurry!”
Van Buren spun the wheel and sped off. As they neared the top of the hill, everyone strained to see over it. The moment they reached the peak, they saw the old green car, sitting on the shoulder with its hood up and smoke billowing from the radiator.
The Aldens let out a group cheer.
Then they had one last scare—when Van Buren pulled up alongside the old car, there was no one in it.
“Oh no!” Violet said. “He’s not here!”
“Yes he is,” Jessie replied, pointing through the windshield. “Right there!”
They saw a man a few hundred feet ahead, going down the lonely road on foot, with a little white dog next to him. Since Mr. Finch didn’t have a leash, he had attached his necktie to Max’s collar.
Gilbert Finch was walking to Greenfield.
Van Buren pulled up alongside him and said, “Hey, stranger, need a lift?”
Finch looked more tired than anyone the Aldens had ever seen. He was filthy and sweaty.
He still managed a smile, though.
“Danny boy! Fancy meeting you out here! Here in … uh … “
“The middle of nowhere?” Van Buren asked.
“Yeah, pretty much.”
Then Finch noticed the Aldens. He pointed to them and looked back to Van Buren. “Nieces and nephews?” he asked.
Van Buren laughed. “No, but I believe you already know them—they’re the Aldens, from Greenfield.”
“The Aldens!” Mr. Finch said, clearly shocked. He stepped forward and stuck his head in the window. “What are you doing all the way out here? Shouldn’t you be back at the library, waiting for me to not show up?”
The children were almost out of breath from laughter.
“Hop in and they can tell you the whole story on the way,” said Mr. Van Buren.