Amelia Earhart: Lady Lindy Read Free Page B

Thorne said, nodding. “Ditto Penelope.”
    He ate more mussels.
    â€œI’ve done some research,” he said after he rang the bell for the table to be cleared.
    â€œOn?” Maisie asked.
    â€œYour friends. Your . . . what’s their surname? Zinger?”
    â€œZiff,” Felix said.
    â€œYes, them. The Ziff twins. Amy Pickworth’s descendants.”
    He paused.
    Maisie and Felix waited.
    â€œAs you know, we always assumed that Amy Pickworth met her demise in the Congo.”
    They nodded.
    â€œShe and Phinneas had gone there to acquire artifacts for The Treasure Chest,” Great-Uncle Thorne continued. “According to my father, they spent the night in a hut with some natives, and in the morning she had vanished. He claims that he searched for her along the river and in the jungle, but not even a trace turned up. Except . . .”
    He paused again and began fumbling in his pocket.
    â€œExcept?” Maisie asked eagerly.
    â€œExcept for this,” Great-Uncle Thorne said, and finally removed from his pocket a piece of heavy vellum paper with two words written on it in faded black ink:
    gone black A O
    â€œâ€˜Gone black’,” Felix read out loud. “‘A O’.”
    â€œWhat does that mean?” Maisie asked.
    â€œWe assumed of course that it meant they killed her. ‘Gone black’ standing in for imminent death. ‘A O’ her initials. Amy Olivia.”
    â€œHow sad,” Felix said softly.
    Maisie shook her head. “It doesn’t make sense,” she said, thinking out loud. “She had time to write a farewell note? These natives are . . . I don’t know . . . throwing spears at her or getting ready to eat her or shrink her head and she has time to write that note in that fancy handwriting?”
    Great-Uncle Thorne looked at her, impressed. “Bravo. You have to be right. Amy Pickworth wrote that note with care, I’d say. Under duress, even excellent penmanship would waver.”
    Felix picked up the note and began to read it silently, his lips moving as he did.
    â€œBut what else could it mean?” Maisie wondered.
    â€œI think your brother there is about to tell us,” Great-Uncle Thorne said, a satisfied smile spreading across his face.
    â€œIt’s an anagram, isn’t it?” Felix said.
    â€œSpoken like a true Pickworth!” Great-Uncle Thorne said with obvious pride.
    Maisie took the note from her brother and stared at the letters there. Almost immediately, they seemed to reshape themselves, revealing their meaning to her.
    â€œâ€˜Go back alone’,” Maisie read.
    She looked at Great-Uncle Thorne and said the words again: “‘Go back alone’.”
    â€œAmy Pickworth stayed in that jungle intentionally,” Great-Uncle Thorne said. His great white brows furrowed. “The question I have is
why
?”

    As much as Maisie wanted more duties as a junior bridesmaid, Felix wanted fewer duties as a best man. Just yesterday, Great-Uncle Thorne had handed him a dusty book that looked like no one had opened in about a million years. When Great-Uncle Thorne cracked the spine, the first pages crumbled. Undeterred, he’d carefully turned the brittle pages until he found what he was looking for.
    â€œHere,” he told Felix, sliding the book across the table.
    There, under the heading, DUTIES OF A BEST MAN , a list stretched. There were duties for planning the wedding and duties during the rehearsal and duties the night before the wedding and before the ceremony and during the ceremony and even at the reception.
    â€œI have to throw you a bachelor party?” Felix said.
    Great-Uncle Thorne grinned and nodded.
    â€œI’m only twelve,” Felix reminded him.
    â€œIrrelevant!” Great-Uncle Thorne said dismissively.
    Felix scanned the never-ending list of duties.
    â€œArrange accommodations for out-of-town