Page 13 of Magic of Moonlight (The Bostwicks of Trillium Bay #2)

thirteen

I have spines but no bones.

I have words, but no voice.

I have letters but no postage.

I am titled but not royalty.

“ I t’s a book!” Daisy exclaimed. “A book has a spine, letters, words, and a title. It has to be a book. But which one?”

The First Annual Imperial Hotel Scavenger Hunt was underway, and Alex’s sister was determined to win. So, it seemed, was every person on their team which included himself, Daisy, Trudy, Lucy, and even little Poppy who was not so much a participant as she was their mascot.

“Maybe the hotel registry book?” Lucy asked, gazing over at the mahogany desk where Mr. Beeks was already showing signs of extreme exasperation. This was the man’s worst nightmare. People scrambling about, laughing, and God forbid, even shouting as they rummaged through his pristine hotel in search of clues.

“The registration book is one everyone would know the location of,” Alex agreed.

“But it says spines, not just a single spine, so it must be more than one book,” Trudy added.

She caught his eye, and he marveled at her ability to note the tiniest detail.

“Multiple books, then? The reading room?” suggested Lucy excitedly.

They nodded in unison, quickly turning in that direction and all but sprinting across the lobby, past poor, miserable Beeks.

Alex heard the harmony of Trudy’s laughter blend with Lucy’s and his sister’s, and he could not think of another instance in which he’d behaved in such a frivolous manner inside the walls of any hotel, much less one as elegant and respectable as the Imperial. They were like rambunctious puppies, dashing around one another and bumping into things—but they were not the only ones.

Alex had assumed this scavenger hunt would be a quaint diversion, mostly for the children, and that he, along with the other distinguished gentlemen would spend the afternoon smoking cigars and drinking beer on the front porch. But the youngest Miss Hart had marched to his side and demanded he join their team, and while it seemed he had little issue with refusing Coco, he could not refuse Poppy. Still, he had assumed he’d be one of the few adult men in the mix.

He was wrong.

Hugo Plank had, as usual, made the prize too impressive to resist. Fifty dollars to be shared among the members of the team. This, of course, encouraged some to compete as individuals. On their way to the reading room, Alex spotted a solitary Senator Stanford Gould on his hands and knees searching for a clue underneath a sofa while Cyrus Garland, heir to his father’s railroad fortune, was running as fast as his stubby legs would allow toward the dining room. Everywhere Alex looked, in every direction, the hotel’s elite had shrugged off the mantle of dignity and were racing around as if their tails were on fire. What a lark!

Daisy reached the reading room first and pulled open the door, breathless and excited, with Lucy, Trudy, Poppy, and Alex behind her. They entered to find a young, scruffy-headed hotel porter sitting on a stool, an eager smile on his freckled face.

“Yer my first customers!” he exclaimed joyfully. He held up a note and read it loudly and with gusto. “Find a book by Mr. Mark Twain and you will find yer next clue inside of it!”

“Any book by Twain?” Daisy asked.

He glanced at the note as if to verify. “Yup. Any book by Mark Twain, but they ain’t in any order on the shelves so good luck.”

“Let’s divide and conquer,” Trudy said. “I’ll take the bookshelf near the window.”

“Hey, that’s not fair. I can’t see the high up shelves,” Poppy exclaimed.

“You and I can work together,” Alex replied. “You look at the lower shelves, and I’ll look at the higher ones.”

She nodded at his plan while Daisy and Lucy chose their spots, and everyone began to search.

“Got one!” Daisy called out moments later. “The Prince and the Pauper.”

She flipped it open to find a folded note inside just as another team burst through the doorway.

“Hurry!” Trudy whispered. “What’s the clue?”

Daisy pulled out the note and read it. “ Put this bow in your hair and you will never hit the center.”

“What kinds of bows don’t go in your hair?” Lucy whispered.

“Musical bows? Bow ties?” Alex conjectured quietly so the other team wouldn’t hear.

“Maybe it’s not pronounced like bow. Perhaps it means the bow of a boat?” Daisy suggested.

“Or a bow like the kind Flossie and Regina wear around their necks?” Poppy said.

“But you will never hit the center. When do you want to hit the center of something?” Trudy mused aloud.

“A target. You want to hit the center of a target. It means bow and arrow,” Lucy said excitedly.

“Shhh!” Daisy teased, glancing at the other team who was hard at work scouring the shelves.

“Yes, I think you’re correct. It’s an archery reference. The next clue must be out on the lawn,” Alex agreed.

“I have to sign yer contest form,” the lad said loudly from his stool.

Trudy handed him the piece of paper they’d been given at the start of the hunt, a list of numbers from one to fifteen with nothing else written on it except for their names. The lad signed it with a flourish, handing it back to Trudy along with a wooden token etched with an image of the hotel.

“Yer gonna need this completed contest form and all fifteen tokens to win. Good luck,” he said again.

“Tally ho!” Lucy called out with a giggle as they rushed from the peaceful quiet of the reading room back out into the frenzied mayhem of the lobby.

Mr. Tippett had explained that each team would receive their clues in a different order, so as Alex and his boisterous co-conspirators went in one direction, other teams were rushing upstairs, toward the dining room, or onto the porch where a few dignified society mavens were attempting to enjoy a quiet cup of tea (undoubtedly laced with brandy. )

Alex spotted his mother with Flossie and Regina lounging ubiquitously on satin cushions at her feet. The dogs appeared blissfully oblivious to the pandemonium, while across from his mother, Breezy VonMeisterburger was eyeing the chaos with such astonishment one would have thought the lobby had been overrun by wooly mammoths.

“Mother. Mrs. VonMeisterburger,” Alex said smoothly as he rushed past.

“Mother. Mrs. VonMeisterburger,” Daisy added, following fast behind him.

He wondered if Trudy or Lucy might offer their own greetings but a glance over his shoulder told him they were—wisely—remaining silent as down the steps they went toward the lush green expanse of the lawn, their breathless laughter mingling with good natured shouts, calls of encouragement, and the twangy sounds of a jug band playing somewhere in the thick of it all.

“I’ve never seen anything quite like this,” Trudy remarked as they approached the archery area. “I’m without words.”

Alex glanced over, taking note of her flushed cheeks and wide smile, and something inside him brightened discernibly. He didn’t know exactly what it was or what it meant, but it pleased him, and he smiled back.

“Dr. Hart without words?” he teased. “Can it be?”

She tilted her chin upwards. “Just for that, I shan’t speak to you for the rest of the day.”

“Ah, there’s a challenge you’re sure to lose.”

In fact, he hoped she’d lose that challenge. He didn’t want her to be silent because what she said was always of interest, even when it pertained to him being a horrible boy in his youth. Maybe that was due to the tiny dimples which formed near her mouth when she was trying not to smile, or the subtle way her brows knit when she revealed something important, or perhaps it was simply that he found the content of what she said to be noteworthy. Regardless, he didn’t want to her stop commenting.

“Welcome to Callaghan’s Archery Field,” Harlan Callaghan called out as they reached a roped off area full of hay bales with targets attached. “Alex, I’m glad to see you upright again after that fall from grace at the end of your bicycle ride,” Harlan added, nodding at Alex’s still bandaged hand.

“I’m glad to be upright,” Alex responded. “And today I’m traveling with my own personal physician, just in case of injury.”

“I’d say these arrows will be the most dangerous part of your day,” Harlan replied. “Just make sure you point them at the target and not at me. By the way, who are your lovely friends?”

Alex gestured toward his teammates. “Mr. Callaghan, please allow me to introduce you to Dr. Hart and her sisters, Miss Lucy Hart, and Miss Poppy Hart. Of course, you know my sister, Daisy.”

“It’s a pleasure, ladies. And doctor. Doctor lady.” Harlan stumbled over his words prompting more laughter, and Alex noted how the young man’s eyes seemed to linger on Lucy.

“We are in a bit a hurry here, Harlan. If you don’t mind?” Alex added.

“Oh, yes. Of course. One of you needs to shoot an arrow into the target. You don’t need a bull’s-eye, but it’s not enough to hit the hay bale. You have to be inside the target.”

“May I try?” Lucy immediately asked the group.

“Oh, yes. Let Lucy do it,” added Trudy. “She can hit a turkey at twenty paces.”

Alex chuckled at his vision of the delicate Lucy Hart letting loose on an unsuspecting Tom but cheered enthusiastically with the others when she hit the bull’s-eye on her first attempt.

“Well, I’ll be damned,” he muttered under his breath.

Lucy was blushing furiously as she handed back the bow to Harlan.

“Well done, Miss Hart!” the young man said. “One might think you’re Cupid with aim such as that.”

Alex chuckled again and caught Trudy’s eye, his thought being that Harlan appeared rather smitten with Lucy, but something in Trudy’s enigmatic expression hinted at something besides amusement. She’d born a similar expression when her sisters had been dancing the other night when she was not, but she smiled just now, and said, “Well done, indeed, Lucy!”

“Here’s our paper to be signed,” Daisy added, stepping forward.

“Yes, ma’am,” he responded, signing it before pulling a token from one pocket and a slip of paper from the other.

“And your clue, milady,” he said, bowing deeply before Lucy. It was clumsy chivalry at best, but Alex couldn’t fault the young man for trying.

“Thank you,” Lucy nearly whispered, handing it over to Poppy. “Here, sweetie. You read this one.”

Poppy unfolded it in a rush and read aloud. “ This room is steeped in tradition. Well, that’s easy. It’s the tearoom. But, egad, that’s so far away,” she moaned.

“Can she ride on my back?” Alex whispered to Trudy.

“If you don’t mind carrying her, but it’s not necessary. She’s more than capable of walking.”

“Yes,” he replied. “But she rather moseys , and I have grand illusions of winning this hunt.”

“Illusions? Or delusions?”

“Let me enjoy at least the prospect of being victorious, Dr. Hart. I’m still stinging from my last defeat. Besides, with your uncanny knack for deciphering these clues, I think we stand a chance.”

With Poppy soon clinging to his back like a spider monkey, they set off across the lawn once more.

“Has anyone ever accused you of being competitive, Mr. Bostwick?” Trudy asked a moment later.

“Of course, and I make no apology for it. My brother has been—quite literally—chasing my heels since the day we were born. If I weren’t competitive he would have run me over by now and figured out some way to be five years older than me. And anyway, I suspect you are just as competitive.”

She nodded agreeably. “I suppose I am, at least with my older brother, not that he notices.”

“I didn’t realize you had an older brother.”

“I do. He’s a physician in Boston. My parents are visiting him now, before they come to Trillium Bay.”

“So, three doctors in the family, but what do you mean your brother doesn’t notice?”

He’d lowered his voice so Poppy wouldn’t hear, although she was humming a fragmented tune, a blend of Little Brown Jug and Battle Hymn of the Republic and didn’t appear to be paying attention to their conversation.

Trudy’s shrug at his question was infinitesimal. “Only that, in his opinion, there is no competition between us because my medical degree and experience will never measure up to his no matter how successful I might be. I could perform the most complicated of surgeries and yet his ability to remove a splinter is somehow more impressive.”

“That seems unjust. Why do you suppose he thinks that way?”

“Because he’s a man. And in case you haven’t noticed, I am woman.”

“Oh, I’ve noticed.”

Those telltale dimples appeared around her mouth. She was trying not to smile at his innuendo.

“That’s not what I meant,” she said primly.

“I know.”

He smiled over at her, enjoying the way her cheeks burned. She wasn’t sure what to make of his comment, and quite frankly, neither was he. What he did know was that he’d once been a consummate flirt, and it felt nice to stretch those muscles again. However, he didn’t want her to think he’d dismissed her comment out of hand, and so he said, “Surely your father recognizes your talents, though, doesn’t he? He must have encouraged your pursuit of medicine.”

“He did, but my father, whom I love dearly, by the way, is diplomatic to a fault. He’s so intent upon keeping the family boat steady he fails to acknowledge who is actually causing it to rock, so if I complain that Calvin is being unjust, Father sees it as me creating an unnecessary disturbance.”

“Ah, that must be vexing.”

“It is, but I’ve learned to harness my frustration and use it to drive my ambition.”

“The ambition to prove yourself as fine a physician as your brother?”

“Pff, no,” she scoffed dismissively. “The ambition to prove myself a superior physician to my brother.”

Alex’s laughter burst forth with such gusto it nearly caused Poppy to slide from his back. He hitched the little girl upwards with his arms while silently acknowledging that Trudy Hart was perhaps the boldest woman he had ever encountered, with her frank speaking about ambition and her determination to accomplish any task, be it setting a broken finger, performing a surgery, or solving the clue to a scavenger hunt faster than anyone else on her team. She was a delight, and someday, some man would be most fortunate to win her heart.

Most fortunate indeed.

The tearoom was a frenzy of activity as they stared from the entrance. Three teams were currently filling demitasse cups with water from a bucket then running across the length of the floor to dump it into a teapot while a pianist banged unceremoniously upon the keys of a harpsichord if it were a children’s toy.

“Oh, my goodness,” Daisy giggled. “That sign on the wall says we have to fill the teapot to overflowing. How many trips do you suppose that’s going to take?”

“I guess we’re about to find out,” Alex answered as he eased Poppy down to the floor.

Across the room, laughter erupted as a middle-aged man with whiskers rivaling those of Johann Strauss, slipped in a puddle, flailed for a moment, and then let out a girlish squawk before landing on the floor with a thud and an oof.

“Are you injured, sir?” Trudy called out automatically as she carefully scooted across the wet surface in his direction.

It was the nature of her vocation to do so, as well as the nature of her… nature. She was predisposed to assist others in need. Perhaps that’s how she’d allowed herself to be drawn into this business with Alex and his spectral shenanigans.

They hadn’t spoken of it since she’d set his broken finger, but it had been first and foremost on her mind. She’d come up with a sort of plan, or rather, she’d come up with a plan as to how they should formulate a plan.

Since she’d never before attempted to catch a ghost, or a prankster as the case may be, she felt a solid foundation for their investigation was essential. There was no sense in going at it all willy-nilly and making guesses or assumptions. They must start with what they knew was certain to be true and move forward from there. Unfortunately, until she and Alex could find some time alone to discuss things, she was rudderless.

“No, injuries, miss!” said the man who was currently splayed out on the tearoom floor. “I am merely testing the sturdiness of Mr. Plank’s hotel.” He rolled to his knees, smacked a palm against the polished floor a few times, adding gaily, “And I am pleased to report this floor is as solid as a rock.” He looked up grinning as she reached his side, and said, “Oh, I say. Are you that lady doctor everyone’s been talking about?”

“I am a doctor,” she replied warily, wondering just who he was alluding to. Did he mean people? Or, like Miss Watson, was he hearing voices from the great beyond?

“Most excellent,” the man said. “Might I impose upon your expertise to evaluate the rash on my son’s neck?” he inquired, rising unsteadily from the floor.

“Papa!” a youthful voice cried out. “Hurry up! We’re racing!”

“What? Oh, yes. Dear me. Another time, madam doctor!” the man said with a wave before shuffling as fast as he dared back to the bucket and his teammates.

Bemused, Trudy returned to her own team who had obtained their teapot and cups and were about to begin.

“If only we had Jesus on our team,” Poppy commented to no one in particular as she gazed at the waterlogged floor. “He could walk right over this.”

After the tearoom, they journeyed to the dining room, the ice cream parlor, the stables, and what seemed like innumerable other locations.

“It’s important to get your pulses racing at least once per day,” Trudy said breathlessly as they climbed yet another staircase. “We must thank Mr. Tippett for seeing to our improved health.”

Occasionally, they’d crisscross paths with Coco, Ellis, Finn, and Asher who had formed their own team. As playful taunts and jests were volleyed between the Bostwicks, Trudy silently hoped Coco was having as much fun as the rest of them. She appeared to be, but Trudy wondered if her sister’s decision to join them had been influenced by Poppy’s insistence that Alex participate on their team. Naturally, Poppy had invited him without consulting anyone else.

Meanwhile, other teams continued to zig and zag, to jog and sprint, and finally to amble and meander around the hotel and grounds as they gathered signatures and tokens. The pace slowed as the day warmed and cheeks grew hot. Alex discarded his jacket and had even rolled up his shirtsleeves while hotel employees circulated through the maze of guests offering cool drinks and flavored ices. Mr. Tippett, the hotel’s social director, periodically called out statistics of how many signatures various teams had earned thus far, making sure a sense of urgency remained.

“We have thirteen,” Daisy all but squealed as they rushed past him.

“Two more to go,” Mr. Tippett shouted back.

But at the putting green, they found no employee to provide a clue or any instructions.

“There’s nothing here as far as I can see,” Daisy said, looking every which way.

“We must be in the wrong place,” Lucy added. But I was so certain this was correct.”

“Let me see the note again,” Trudy asked, taking it from Alex’s proffered fingers.

She read it out loud. “ You have six opportunities to sink a ball on this green. Six opportunities, a single ball, on green,” she mused, tapping her fingers against her chin. “If not this green then—Oh! Eureka!” she shouted, snapping those fingers. “I’d wager it’s a billiards table! Green felt, six pockets.”

“Land sakes, Trudy, you are a marvel,” Alex replied, laughing at her prowess. “To the billiards room, then.”

Poppy had abandoned their team somewhere between the seventh and eighth clue, choosing instead to join Jo Bostwick who was showing a group of children how to create art using stones, twigs, and feathers in the center of the lawn while Chase helped a few others launch brightly colored kites with long, ribbon tails. The scene might have been bucolic if not for all the hotel guests rushing hastily around them.

Reaching the billiards room at last, Alex made quick work of sinking a single ball into a corner pocket, in spite of his bandaged hand, and earned them their final clue. While Trudy was glad the scavenger hunt was drawing to a close—because she was hot and thirsty and certain her hair was an unmitigated mess—she did wish he’d taken more time at the task. She’d enjoyed observing the look of concentration on his face as he calculated where to strike the ball, just as she’d enjoyed observing the musculature of his forearms as he gripped the cue.

Not because there was anything particularly alluring about his face or his forearms… but as a physician, she had an appreciation for such things. It was her job to notice.

Reaching out to the bored-looking porter leaning against the billiards room wall, Lucy accepted the token and clue from his hand, smiling politely as she gave him their contest form.

“I don’t imagine this has been much fun for you,” she said sympathetically. “Watching the rest of us run around while you’re stuck in here all day.”

He smiled wanly and handed back the signed paper. “’Bout as dull as sittin’ on a fence watchin’ cows masticate, miss, but I guess I’d rather be in here ’stead of standin’ outside in the hot sun watchin’ folks try to hit a bale o’ hay with an arrow.” His eyes brightened as he added, “Though I did hear tell o’ one gal who hit the bull’s-eye on her first try! Ain’t that something?”

Daisy laughed delightedly, “That was?—”

“Amazing,” Lucy interrupted. “That must have been a sight to see.” She turned away from him, her cheeks pink and handed the clue to Trudy.

“I think it’s your turn to read,” she said.

Trudy accepted it with a smile, noting that, while Coco loved attention, Lucy avoided it at all costs. She wasn’t shy, necessarily. She just preferred to keep the focus on other people.

“All right, everyone. This is it. Our final clue.” Trudy said. She took a breath, then read aloud.

“You may enjoy this original view of the front porch, but you cannot walk on it.”

Daisy frowned. “There must be a dozen places you can see the front porch from that you can’t walk on.”

“Read it again, would you?” Alex asked. “I’ve learned from Trudy today that paying attention to the exact wording is key to solving the riddle.”

Trudy felt herself smiling at his compliment, and if her cheeks hadn’t already been flushed from the heat, they would be now from his words.

“ You may enjoy this original view of the front porch, but you cannot walk on it.”

“It’s not saying you can’t walk on the front porch,” Alex said. “It’s saying it’s a view of the porch that you cannot walk on. A view, like an image. I think it’s a painting.”

He looked at them eagerly and Trudy nearly chuckled at his apparent pride in having solved this clue before the rest of them. And he should be proud. She would not have made such a connection.

“A painting?” Daisy asked.

“Yes,” he replied to his sister. “It’s Jo’s painting of the hotel. The one hanging in the lobby.”

“I’ve seen that painting,” Lucy said. “You must be right because it’s a view of the front porch?—”

“ That you cannot walk on ,” they said in unison as laughter overtook them.

The disinterested porter sighed aloud at their silliness, but soon they were standing in the lobby once again, staring at the large painting which hung above the model replica of the hotel.

“It’s got to be one of these two,” Trudy said, as they looked over it and under it and beside it.

After a moment, Mr. Beeks cleared his throat. And then he cleared his throat again. And then he coughed.

Trudy wondered if a medical intervention was in order, but when she glanced his way, he gave a subtle bob of his head, as if to draw her closer.

“Oh, that’s sneaky,” she heard Alex say as he walked past her toward the hotel manager and pointed at the wall behind him. “It’s this painting of the hotel. Jo did the smaller one first. It’s the original view.”

“Very good, sir,” Mr. Beeks said dryly. “You have successfully deciphered the final clue. May I count your tokens, please?”

Alex emptied his pockets, setting the wooden disks onto the desk. The hotel manager counted them carefully, then nodded. “You have successfully accumulated the correct number of tokens. May I review your form?”

Trudy giggled at his formality. She’d seen less rigid protocols in an operating theater.

Daisy rushed over and handed the paper to Mr. Beeks who adjusted his spectacles and perused it as if it were a binding, legal document. Trudy wasn’t certain whether he was trying to build suspense, annoy the dickens out of them, or if Mr. Beeks really was that fastidious, but at last, he set the paper upon the desk, and signed his name. Then he took out his pocket watch, checked it carefully, and jotted the time down next to his name. 3:05 p.m.

“Did we win?” asked Lucy with an eager yet breathless sigh. “Are we the first to finish?”

“I’m not at liberty to divulge such information, miss,” Beeks answered formally. “But you have completed every task, and I have been instructed to direct you to the grand ballroom.”

Trudy looked around at each of them and smiled. “Win or lose, I know we all did our best.”

“Hear, hear,” Alex agreed. “I could not have been compelled to join a finer team.”

“I agree,” Daisy said impatiently, “Now, let’s go see if we won.”

Walking quickly to the far side of the lobby, they entered the ballroom to find Mr. Plank standing at the bottom of the steps.

“Well done, my fine competitors,” he called out. “I commend your worthy effort!”

Trudy heard a smattering of applause as he continued. “Alas, you did not finish in first place but be proud! You are the fourth team to arrive and there are still prizes a plenty. Once everyone is in the ballroom, we’ll be announcing various categories, and you may win something yet. In the meantime, please enjoy some well-earned refreshments.”

Mr. Plank gestured toward a few long tables laden with delectable treats and refreshing beverages, and as she looked around, Trudy saw at least twenty scavenger hunt participants already in the ballroom. Each one was as flushed and disheveled as she was, and most were smiling wide from an afternoon full of fun and frivolity. She allowed herself to feel only a twinge of disappointment for not having finished first. Not so much for herself, but for her team in general, yet just as quickly replaced that emotion with her enjoyment of the pursuit. It had been a delightful afternoon.

“Fourth place is nothing to sneeze at,” Daisy said brightly, “and right now, the only prize I truly want is some of that lemonade. I’m parched.” She trotted down the short staircase.

“Lemonade and cookies,” Lucy added, following behind her. “I am satisfied.”

Alex turned to Trudy, his smile tired but content. “As one fierce competitor to another, Dr. Hart, I am sorry we didn’t win. I would’ve enjoyed sharing that fifty-dollar prize with you.”

“As would I, with you,” she said. “But for now, it seems we must drown our sorrows in lemonade.”

He chuckled as they descended the steps. “I sincerely hope Plank has something a little stronger than lemonade over there.”

She laughed in response, but her good humor faded as she looked to the far side of the room and spotted a sullen looking Ellis, a forlorn Coco, Finn—who was pressing a blood-stained cloth to his nose, and Asher—who was holding an equally bloody cloth against the corner of his mouth. From this distance, it was hard to tell the extent of their injuries, but they were definitely wounded.

Her footsteps faltered at the sight, and Alex caught her by the arm. “Trudy?”

Then he followed her gaze and muttered a quiet curse. “What in the devil’s name do you suppose that’s about?” he murmured.

“I’m certain I don’t want to know,” she replied. “But there’s blood so I suppose I should go over there and find out.” She was a doctor, after all.

She and Alex approached the table where the others sat.

“Asher? Finn?” she asked as she reached them. “What happened?”

All the boys exchanged heated stares, Coco sniffled, yet no one spoke.

“She asked you boys a question,” Alex said sternly. “Do not disrespect her with silence.”

“It was just a stupid game,” Ellis said dismissively, pointing at Asher and Finn. “They got upset over nothing.”

“It wasn’t nothing. It was cheating,” Asher responded hotly. “And I’m not a cheater.” He pulled the cloth away as he spoke, and Trudy could see he’d split his lip. She moved to his side to examine it more closely.

“Who cheated?” Trudy demanded as she pressed carefully around her brother’s mouth.

Both the younger boys pointed back at Ellis.

“Oh, so this is my fault?” Ellis snapped. “Maybe if you morons could have figured out a few clues we wouldn’t have had to cheat.”

“No one ever has to cheat, Ellis. It’s a choice.” Alex responded. His voice was low but there was nothing flexible or tentative about it, and Trudy sensed his frustration. She turned to her sister.

“Coco, please tell us what happened.”

Coco looked up, her face splotchy, tears puddling, but she dashed them away with her fingertips.

“Ellis found some tokens on the ground that someone must have dropped. He put them in his pocket, and we didn’t think much of it. We just kept on with the hunt. After a while he said we’d done everything and that we were finished.” She sniffled again but kept talking.

“When we got to the ballroom, we were the first ones here, and I thought we’d won. We were all so excited. But then Mr. Plank said something was wrong with our contest sheet because Mr. Beeks hadn’t signed it or recorded our completion time.”

Now she glared over at Ellis. “That’s when Asher, Finn, and I realized Ellis had forged signatures on the last three challenges. We never did them. Mr. Plank figured that out, too, and disqualified us.”

“Damn it, Ellis,” Alex said tersely. “Why would you do such a reckless thing?”

“It was just a game,” his cousin responded emphatically. “A silly, pointless game.”

“Exactly! And since it was a silly, pointless game, why cheat?” Alex asked, his ire visibly growing.

Ellis snorted as if the question was nonsensical.

“For fifty dollars,” he snapped. “Are you trying to tell me you wouldn’t cheat a little for fifty dollars?”

“No, I wouldn’t cheat for fifty dollars. I wouldn’t cheat for any amount of money,” Alex responded.

“That’s because you already have it!” Ellis bit back, crossing his arms and slouching farther down into his chair.

Trudy saw the muscles in Alex’s jaw clench at his cousin’s words. “It’s never acceptable to cheat,” Alex said quietly.

“And the cheating doesn’t explain why two of you are bleeding,” Trudy added moving over to Finn to see what he was hiding behind that cloth.

Coco spoke up again. “When Finn realized what Ellis had done, he was so mad he tried to punch him in the face, only he missed and hit Asher by mistake, then Finn tried to hit Ellis again and Ellis punched him in the nose.”

“Ellis,” Alex said, his quiet voice full of disappointment and exasperation. “You are twenty-one years old. What is the matter with you. You’re supposed to set a better example.”

Ellis said nothing as he stared off into the distance.

“I think your nose may be broken,” Trudy said to Finn. “We need to get cold compresses on both of you boys, and Finn, don’t tip your head back. Lean forward.”

“I didn’t hit him that hard,” Ellis said. “He moved forward when I was trying to defend myself.”

“Defend yourself?” Alex said. “You’re a foot taller than he is. I’m sure you could have kept him at bay without punching him in the nose.”

“It was an accident. All of it was just one big accident,” Ellis muttered, but Trudy could see his words were not alleviating Alex’s ire.

“The cheating wasn’t accidental, and it was your cheating that caused them to get hurt. This is your fault, Ellis. Yours, and yours alone. Go upstairs, now.”

Ellis glared at him. “You can’t send me to my room like some recalcitrant child, Alex.”

But Alex regarded him coldly, staring down at him as Ellis remained motionless in the chair, and his voice, when he spoke was quiet but brooked no argument.

“I could send you all the way back to Chicago if I wanted to, Ellis. Now get out here. I don’t want to see your face.”

Ellis hesitated for only a moment, then pushed back from the table roughly. “Mountain out of a molehill, if you ask me,” he muttered as he walked away.

Such a lovely day with such an abrupt end to it, Trudy thought to herself as she dabbed at the blood under Finn’s nose.

“Coco, Asher,” Alex said after a pause. “I must apologize for my cousin’s delinquent behavior. Since he stole your chance at winning the grand price, please allow me to provide the $12.50 that you each would have received, had your team won fair and square. Finn, I’ll make sure Uncle Vernon pays you the same amount.”

“That’s not necessary, Alex,” Trudy responded immediately. “They probably wouldn’t have won regardless.

“Hey, now, sis. Don’t be so hasty,” Asher interjected, his sudden smile decidedly lopsided due to that fat lip. “I took one in the kisser when I didn’t deserve it. I think that’s worth some financial compensation, don’t you?”