The Mastermind Plot Read Free Page A

of histhings in the basement.” She pinched her lips together, inspected my uncle, and no doubt saw his cross expression. “But I most likely don’t, Detective Grogan. And my son is right — I really must attend to my granddaughter at the moment. Perhaps Bruce could come back and have a look around himself?”
    The Horne fires. An older case. Notebooks filled with observations and clues. My interest was officially hooked. I watched as Uncle Bruce’s stiff shoulders loosened.
    â€œExcellent idea, Mother. We’ll be off.” He went to his mother’s chair and delivered a hasty peck to her cheek.
    Uncle Bruce swept out into the foyer. Detective Grogan, looking somewhat crestfallen at not being able to search for those old notebooks, at least had the decency to give another short bow to Nellie and me before leaving.
    Something in the way Detective Grogan had held himself apart from Uncle Bruce, and especially in the way he’d complimented me, gave me the notion that he had been trying to twist a thorn in his partner’s side. I immediately approved of him.
    Nellie sighed to break up the new silence. In any other company, she would have made a comment about Uncle Bruce’s poor behavior. But she kept her thin lips sealed, with only a sharp glance at Grandmother.
    â€œPlease don’t mind Bruce. He has always found it difficult to give credit where credit is due.” Grandmother winked at me. “I spoke with Will just after he and Bruce arrived home in July, and he told me everything you did, Suzanna. And then the papers were all raving about you. I can’t tell you how proud I was to hear of it all.”
    The serving girl had come into the parlor with tea. She handed me a full cup. I was so excited to hear Will’s name that I nearly spilled it.
    â€œHe did? How is he? Will I see him?”
    Grandmother chuckled over my eagerness to see my cousin.
    â€œI’m sure you will, and very soon. But I first plan to be very selfish — I want you all to myself, my dear. It’s been years since I’ve seen you.”
    At least five, I calculated, vaguely remembering her last visit. I also had fuzzy memories of my grandfather, though he’d passed away a year or two after their last trip to Loch Harbor. My father had gone to Boston for the funeral, alone, my mother explaining that the train ride was long and that funerals were often too sad for children. Grandmother had continued to send me cards and presents at my birthdays and holidays, but she didn’t like traveling alone. And my parents didn’t like traveling at all .
    Grandmother continued, “I’m sorry your uncle seemed exasperated by your arrival. I’m afraid he has been under an enormous amount of pressure lately.”
    I took a scalding sip of tea and burned off half of my taste buds.
    â€œWhat are the Horne fires?” I asked. I patted my skirt for my notebook but remembered it was in my cloak pocket. I’d have to memorize Grandmother’s answer instead.
    â€œJust some local troubles, dear. A few warehouses owned by a Boston businessman have gone up in flames. Bruce seems to be having an uncommonly hard time with the investigation.” Grandmother took up her tea after stirring in a cube of sugar. “But we’ll have no unpleasant talk this afternoon.”
    It wouldn’t have been unpleasant talk for me. But I supposed Grandmother was a lady, and most ladies would have thought arson a rude subject. Grandmother rose up from her seat and abandoned her tea. She crossed the room toward me, and in a sudden gesture of enthusiasm, took my cheeks into her warm hands. Her eyes danced with delight.
    â€œHow splendid this autumn is going to be with you here, Zanna!”
    I blinked a few times, surprised she was already using my nickname.
    â€œThat is what your friends call you, is it not?” she asked. “Will told me you prefer it.”
    I nodded, again