34.

They finished shelving the books and returned the cart to the front desk, where Gavin was hunched over some paperwork.

“Excuse me one last time?” said Abigail. “Say we wanted to … find Dr. Hesselius’s son?”

Gavin looked up, perturbed. “I’ll ask again,” he said. “Why should I be telling you this?” With a tiny smile, Abigail simply waved the microfiche printouts. Gavin rolled his eyes. “Research. Right.” He sighed. “I think I have his contact information in my office. Just a second,” he said. He went through a door behind the front desk. Moments later, he returned with a small white notecard, which he handed to Abigail. “This is all I have. I’m only doing this so you’ll leave me alone and never come back here, at least until the semester is over.” He glared at her. “Deal?”

“Yeah, sure. Thanks a lot,” she added quickly.

The two kids casually walked out the library’s front door. By the time they reached the bottom step, they were at a near sprint. They ran, sticking to the campus paths until they found the quad. Hunched over, Timothy stopped, trying to catch his breath. Abigail gasped, hugged the microfiche pages to her chest, then glanced over her shoulder up the hill. “Why were we running like that?” she asked.

“I don’t know,” said Timothy. “I was following you. I guess I thought we should get out of there before he took the notecard back. What’d he write on it anyway?”

Abigail had clenched the card in her fist. She opened her hand, turned the card over, and said, “Jack.”

Timothy paused. “Jack? As in jack squat? As in nothing?”

“Jack … as in that’s the old man’s name. Hesselius’s son,” said Abigail, showing Timothy the card. “He wrote his address too.”

“Ash Tree Lane?” Timothy read. “That’s just a few blocks from my house.”

“Cool,” said Abigail, “so you can lead the way.”

“Wait,” said Timothy, handing the card back to her. “You actually want to go to the house?”

“What else did you have in mind for the afternoon? A game of Parcheesi with my grandmother?” said Abigail. “This guy has answers. He’s got to know what’s going on. Maybe he can tell us some more about his father. We can ask him about the baseball cards and the safe. Maybe he’ll tell us what’s in it.”

“Yeah, sure.” Timothy nodded. “Or maybe he can kill us.”

Abigail smacked his arm. “He’s old. What can he do?”

“You don’t know how old he is,” said Timothy.

“What are you worried about?” said Abigail. “Gavin said he ‘hobbled.’ I don’t think someone who hobbles has enough strength to hurt us.”

Timothy lowered his voice, like a television announcer, and answered, “She said as he whacked her with his sword cane.”

“People don’t inherit the sins of their parents,” said Abigail. “That’s what Gavin said.”

“Yeah, but—”

“If we don’t check out this address, we’ve hit a dead end. You can either come with me, or you can stand here admiring the view.” She gestured toward the river. The lighthouse had fallen under the bridge’s shadow, as the sun had now moved halfway across the sky. The wind off the water was chilly. Timothy’s stomach growled. The campus was quiet, and they had nowhere else to go.

He figured they could stop by the old man’s house, ring his doorbell, at least check the place out. Maybe this Jack guy wasn’t home. Even if he was home, he might not know jack. They wouldn’t know until they tried.

“Hold on,” said Timothy, racing up the Dragon Stairs after Abigail. “I can’t keep up with you.”

“You? Mr. Swim Team can’t keep up with a girl?” Abigail called over her shoulder, teasing him. The rolled-up microfiche copies wagged from the back pocket of her jeans. Timothy laughed, which slowed him down even more, but then he glanced at the green paint on the wall, thought of the dragon’s eyes, and stepped up his pace.

“The house isn’t going anywhere,” said Timothy.

“It’s not the house I’m worried about,” she said over her shoulder. “Do you believe in ghosts?”

“I’ve never really thought about it.”

“Gramma thinks this is all about her, and she’s going to try and stop it. Hesselius promised to return someday. Get his revenge on the little girl who told. After everything we learned at the library, I’m beginning to think maybe she’s on to something.”

“You think Hesselius’s ghost has that jawbone thing?”

“Maybe. If that’s even possible. I don’t know what to think. All I know is I’ve got to keep Gramma safe.”