Mystery in the Old Attic Read Free

much lunch.”
    Jessie laughed. “Yes, Benny. I know.”
    â€œLook how dark it is,” said Violet as Grandfather started the car. She looked at her watch. “It’s only six o’clock.”
    â€œIt gets dark early here in the fall and winter,” Grandfather explained. “We’re farther north than in Greenfield, so the sun sets earlier.”
    â€œOh,” said Violet.
    The moon was rising as Grandfather drove down Aunt Sophie’s long, winding driveway. None of them noticed the blond girl in the tower window who was watching everything they did.

CHAPTER 3
    A Nosy Waitress
    V iolet was the first one awake the next morning. She put on her fuzzy slippers and tiptoed out of the room she shared with Jessie. It was so quiet in the hallway, Violet could hear the floorboards creak. She walked toward the ballroom and stepped inside. As she looked around the large, airy room, she imagined couples from long ago dancing in the night.
    â€œBoo!” someone shouted behind her. Violet jumped.
    â€œI didn’t mean to scare you.” Benny was laughing. He walked over to Violet in his fuzzy slippers. “Isn’t this room huge?”

    Violet nodded. “I wonder what it was like to live here when people used this room for dances,” said Violet, looking up at the high chandeliers that each held twelve candles. Folding chairs and small tables were stacked in one corner of the room. In another were some old chairs covered with a sheet.
    â€œDo you think Great-aunt Sophie gave balls in here?” asked Benny.
    â€œWell, yes,” answered Violet. “But this room does not seem as if it’s been used in a while. Look how dusty everything is. We’ve got some work to do.”
    â€œOh, Violet, Benny, there you are,” said Jessie, who stood by the door. “Grandfather is taking us all out to breakfast.”
    â€œOh, goody,” said Benny.
    Half an hour later, the Aldens were seated at a booth in the Jarvi Bakery in downtown Brockton.
    â€œBoy, these pancakes are delicious,” said Benny as he poured more raspberry syrup over them.
    â€œThey’re called pan-nu-kak-ku,” said Grandfather. He pronounced each syllable slowly. “They’re Finnish pancakes.”
    â€œThey taste better than regular pancakes,” said Henry. “They’re like a combination of a pancake, an omelet, and custard.”
    Benny nodded. His mouth was full.
    â€œI couldn’t help overhearing how much you like the pannukakku, ” said the waitress when she came over to refill Grandfather’s coffee. “You know, there is a Finnish special on the menu every day.”
    â€œAre all the specials as good as these pancakes?” asked Benny after he had swallowed his food.
    â€œOh, yes,” answered the waitress, who was young and blond. “At least I think so. You’re staying in the old Taylor mansion, aren’t you?”
    â€œHow did you know that?” Benny looked very surprised.
    â€œI saw you from my window,” the waitress answered. “I rent an apartment on the third floor.”
    â€œFor heaven’s sake,” said Grandfather. “So you’re the other tenant. I am James Alden, and these are my grandchildren: Henry, Jessie, Violet, and Benny.”
    â€œYes, I know,” said the waitress, extending her hand to Grandfather. “I’m pleased to meet you. My name is Kimberly Watson. I just moved here a couple months ago from California. I used to talk to your aunt all the time. She was really nice.”
    â€œHow do you know about us?” asked Benny.
    â€œYour great-aunt Sophie told me all about her family in Greenfield. Even though she never met you, she felt she knew you through your grandfather’s letters.”
    â€œOh,” said Benny, looking pleased.
    â€œHow do you like living in Brockton?” asked Grandfather.
    Kimberly shrugged. “Well, it’s really different