The Pea Soup Poisonings Read Online Free PDF Page B

ear.”
    “The way I play my cello?”
    “I guess so. You certainly don’t look at the notes when you play. I mean, it sounds like a fingernail scraping a blackboard.”
    “That’s an insult,” said Spence. “And I’m getting off the bus right this minute.” He stood up – and Zoe pulled him back down.
    “I’m just kidding. You’re a brilliant cello player. Really.”
    “Tell that to my mom,” said Spence. The bus lurched around a corner and threw him against Zoe’s shoulder. “Oops,” he said. “You’ve got sharp bones.”
    “The important thing,” said Zoe, ignoring the comment about her bones, “is to find out what this key is for. And warn Alice’s auntie about those bad relatives wanting it. Then we can kidnap her next trip – after we figure out where to hide her.”
    “In the blacksmith shop across the street?” said Spence.
    “What?”
    “It’s locked up, but my father has a key. He owns the land it’s on. They’re trying to turn it into a historic landmark, but for now it’s on our land. It’s got running water and a sink.”
    “Perfect. We might kidnap her tonight then. I have enough money for one more ticket.”
    “But you were going to use that money for supper.”
    “We’ll see.”
    “That’s what I’m afraid of.”
    “Rockbury,” the driver announced. Fifteen minutes later the bus came to a smelly, grinding stop in front of a convenience store.
    “What time is the bus back to Branbury?” Zoe asked.
    “Nine-forty-eight, kid. Sharp. We don’t wait for nobody.”
    The doors squealed open and Zoe and Spence found themselves on a cold cement pavement without a soul in sight. The convenience store where they’d stopped had a CLOSED sign in front. The mountains loomed up beyond it, cold and dark blue. It was as though the whole town had gone to bed, and it was only seven-twenty by Zoe’s watch.
    “So where is this Rockbury place where they’ve got Alice’s aunt?” Spence asked.
    Zoe could only shake her head and stare out at the silent town.
     
     
    Chapter Ten
     
    Home Sweet Rockbury
     
    “There it is,” said Spence, after they’d walked up the road for what seemed an hour but had been only – Zoe peered at her watch in the gathering twilight – twenty minutes. Spence pointed at a large building looming up out of a dark woods.
    A sign on an open gate at the foot of the driveway read: ROCKBURY HOME FOR THE DEVELOPMENTALLY DISABLED.
    “Some ‘home,’” said Zoe, staring up at the gray stone walls. “It has bars on the windows.”
    “Jeezum. How do we get her out then?”
    “We’ll find a way. I told you we’d play it by ear.”
    “Tootley-too,” went Spence on his imaginary cello, and Zoe shushed him. “We’re ‘relatives’ you know,” she reminded him, and turned the brass handle of the large wooden door. A handwritten sign read “VISITING HOURS: 2-3; 7:30-8:30.” But the door was locked. She banged loudly.
    At last a slot opened up and a pair of watery green eyes squinted out. “Relatives coming for visiting hours,” Zoe shouted, and the door swung open.
    “Hello,” she said cheerily to an ancient female with a cloud of bluish hair who stood behind, looking suspicious. “I’m Zoe and this is my brother Spence. We’re here to see our aunt, Thelma Fairweather.” She held up Thelma’s black sweater. “We’ve come to bring her this. She left without it. Old people’s bodies need heat, you know.”
    She shivered a little in the chill air.
    The woman’s face softened. “I know,” she said. “I’ve been telling them that. I’m just a volunteer here. And I have to wear a jacket, even in July! The cold just clings to these old walls.”
    “Something should be done,” Zoe agreed. “I’ll write a letter.”
    The woman’s smile pushed her cheeks into a hundred wrinkles. She let the children in and handed Zoe a pass. “Thelma is in Room 304,” she said, consulting a chart on the scarred desk. “She had visitors only yesterday