“Lina,” Violet said as the Aldens followed Lina to the house, “there’s something Henry and I need to tell you.”
Henry nodded solemnly. He and Violet quickly filled in the others on the man with the bouncy walk who had sneaked into Lina’s house during the yard sale.
When they had finished the story, Jessie asked, “Do you think it was the same person who tried to break in before?”
“Could be,” said Henry. “He was definitely searching for something, and I’m pretty sure it wasn’t the bathroom.”
“He was looking in the closet and at the stuff on your dresser,” Violet added.
“Bouncy walk, bushy eyebrows, neat dresser, did you say? He didn’t buy anything,” Lina said, “or I’d have remembered him.”
“I noticed him at the yard sale. He inspected all of the china and vases really carefully,” Jessie said.
Just then the phone rang. Lina dashed into the house to answer it. Through the open door, the Aldens heard her say, “Yes, Regina, of course I remember you. No, not today, I’m too tired. Tomorrow isn’t good for me, either. No. No! Fine, call me Monday morning. Good-bye.”
Lina came out, shaking her head. “That reporter, she doesn’t give up. She keeps pestering me to let her into the attic again and tell her more about the quilts.”
Benny, who had been thinking hard, said suddenly, “I saw him. That bouncy man. I saw him with Coral.”
“You did?” said Henry. Everyone looked at Benny.
“Yes. During the yard sale,” said Benny.
“When? Coral didn’t get to the yard sale until late,” Henry said. “The man was gone by then.”
Benny thought, then said, “It wasn’t late, but it wasn’t early. I saw him arrive. He got out of her car, and she drove away.”
“Benny, are you sure?” Violet said.
Benny nodded firmly. “I remember her red hair.”
“Well, Coral did know that the quilts were in the attic,” Jessie said. “If she and that man are in this together, that explains it… unless it was a lucky guess.”
Lina sighed. “A crazy quilt lady, a bouncy snoop, a mysterious wannabe burglar, and a news reporter who won’t take no for an answer,” she said. “Maybe I should just call Mr. Munsey and tell him to take the quilts, at least for now.”
“But what if Mr. Munsey is the one who told the burglar about the quilts? Or what if he is the burglar?” Violet said. “Remember, he’s the only one we told — and then Regina showed up.”
“Let’s try to talk to Mr. Munsey,” said Henry. “We’ll visit Coral at her shop, too, and see if we can pick up any clues.”
“Meanwhile, I think we should hide the quilts,” Jessie said, “to keep them safe.”
“Where?” asked Violet.
“I think I have an idea,” Jessie said. “Come on!”
A short time later, she was smoothing one side of the old hops quilt while Violet tugged and straightened the corner of the other side.
All six quilts had been layered on the bed in the room across the hall from Lina’s. The old hops quilt was spread out over them.
“No one will think to look for more quilts underneath this old one,” said Lina. “Good idea, Jessie.”
“And no one will be able to sneak by, even if they do get in to steal the quilts,” said Benny. “This floor is nice and creaky!”
“Yes,” agreed Jessie. “One way or another, the quilts will be safe.”
As the Aldens walked home from Lina’s, they discussed what to do next. “The museum closes early on Saturdays,” Jessie said. “That means Mr. Munsey won’t be there now.”
“Then we can’t ask him any questions, at least today,” Henry said.
Violet sighed. “And we don’t know who Mr. Bouncy is,” she said, “or where to find him.”
“The crazy quilt lady does,” Benny said.
“You’re right, Benny,” said Jessie. “She does. Let’s hurry down to her shop before it closes for the day.”
“Come on!” said Henry.
The Aldens ran the rest of the way home and hopped on their bicycles. Pedaling fast, they were soon downtown.
“There’s Weaver Stitch Shop,” Violet said. She led the way to a bike rack on the corner.
“Look!” said Violet. “Mr. Bouncy.”
The Aldens stared as a neatly dressed man in a polo shirt and khakis walked out the door of the Stitch Shop. He bobbed across the street, pushed open the door of another shop, and went inside. Jessie looked at the fancy gold lettering on the shop’s window and read aloud, “Grey’s Fine Antiques.”
“You were right, Benny. Coral does know that man,” Henry said.
“But who is he?” asked Benny.
“Let’s go find out,” Jessie said.
They went into the Stitch Shop to find Coral sitting in a worn overstuffed chair with the basket of scraps at her feet. There were no customers.
Coral looked up and gave a little start as they came in.
“Oh!” she said. She laughed but it sounded forced. “You came to visit a lot more quickly than I expected.”
“Have you found any good scraps?” asked Violet.
“Good scraps? Oh, these.” Coral looked down at the basket, then looked away. She seemed jumpy.
“Is everything okay?” asked Jessie.
“Of course, of course,” said Coral. She nudged the basket to one side with her foot and stood up. “How do you like my shop?” she asked.
They looked around. It was a colorful place with cozy chairs, a bright quilt on one wall, racks of thread and sewing supplies, a cabinet labeled PATTERNS, another labeled PROJECTS, and lots and lots of cloth.
“What’s that up there?” asked Benny, pointing to a large wooden frame that looked sort of like a bed frame. It was suspended from the ceiling above them.
“That? That’s a quilting frame,” Coral said. “You stretch the top and bottom of a quilt across it and stitch them together. At least that’s one way to do it. I can raise and lower it when I need to, so it doesn’t take up room in the shop.”
“This place is wonderful,” Violet said. She ran her fingers across some pretty purple cloth and thought she might like to make a quilt in that color, to match the violet flowers on her wallpaper.
Coral talked some more about quilting, and all four of the Aldens asked lots of questions. The more she talked, the more excited Coral got. She knew the answer to every question.
“I think she must know as much as Mr. Munsey,” Jessie said softly to Henry.
“Maybe more,” Henry whispered back. To Coral, he said, “Do many men make quilts?”
“More and more,” Coral said. She didn’t seem so nervous now.
“I wondered,” Henry went on, “because we saw a man coming out of your shop, and we were wondering if he makes quilts.”
Coral thought for a moment. “A man coming of the shop this afternoon?” she said slowly.
“Yes, just before we came in. He has short hair and thick eyebrows, and he walks with a sort of bounce,” said Violet.
“Oh! That’s Dirk Grey,” said Coral. “He owns the antique shop across the street.”
“We thought we saw him at the yard sale this morning, too,” Violet said.
“Yes, he was at the sale,” Coral said. “I gave him a ride — well, a ride from his car. He’d parked down the street from the house because there were so many other cars, and I decided to take a look at where the sale was on my way to my store.” Coral smiled.
“Oh,” said Benny, and the disappointment in his voice mirrored what the others were feeling. There was nothing suspicious about Coral Weaver and Dirk Grey meeting before the sale that morning.
“I know a man who likes quilts,” Jessie said. “Mr. Munsey. Do you know him?”
“The name doesn’t sound familiar,” Coral said, “but I’m terrible with names.”
“Oh,” Jessie said, her voice as disappointed as Benny’s.
“Well, thank you for dropping by,” Coral said, suddenly sounding as if she was in a hurry. “Come again.” She followed the Aldens to the door — and closed it behind them. When Jessie glanced back, she saw Coral hang up the CLOSED sign.
“I got the feeling that Coral wanted us out of there all of the sudden,” said Henry.
“Yes, me, too!” Jessie exclaimed. “And look — according to the sign, the store should be open for another half hour.”
“She was acting funny,” Benny said, “especially when we came in.”
“But she seemed to like talking about quiltmaking,” Violet pointed out.
“You’re right,” said Jessie. She paused, then added, “Maybe she was nervous when we got there because of Mr. Grey. He’d just left, remember?”
“Could be,” Henry said. “And maybe she wanted us to leave before we could ask her more about him.”
“I think we should talk to Mr. Grey,” said Jessie.
“Hold my hand while we cross the street, Benny,” Violet said. She led the way.
Dirk Grey’s shop was still open, and they could see him inside, sitting behind a desk. Jessie pushed open the door and went inside.
Mr. Grey looked up. The smile on his lips faded when he saw Violet and Henry with Jessie and Benny.
“May I help you?” he said, his voice cool.
“Hello, Mr. Grey,” said Henry.
Mr. Grey glanced at the lettering on his window and nodded. “You’re right. I’m Dirk Grey and this is my shop.” He stopped and waited.
“You were at our yard sale this morning. In the house,” Henry said.
“I was,” agreed Mr. Grey.
“What were you looking for?” asked Jessie.
The man shrugged. “I’m an antique dealer. I was curious to see if there was anything in the house that I might want to buy.” He paused. “Old clothes, furniture, knickknacks, quilts, maybe. Anything of value.”
“You shouldn’t have gone sneaking in like that,” said Violet. “You should have asked.”
“Maybe not, but it didn’t do any harm,” said Mr. Grey. He didn’t sound at all sorry.
“You don’t know anyone named Edward Munsey, do you?” Jessie asked suddenly.
“Munsey?” Mr. Grey repeated. His eyes shifted. Then he said, “Antique dealer?”
“No,” said Jessie. “He works for the state museum.”
“Ah. I thought the name sounded slightly familiar,” said Mr. Grey. “I have friends who own antique shops near that museum. That’s probably where I heard it.”
The phone on Mr. Grey’s desk rang. He reached for it. “If you’ll excuse me,” he said to the Aldens. “Have a nice day.”
There was nothing to do but leave.
Henry, Jessie, Benny, and Violet headed for home. They didn’t pedal as fast this time. They didn’t have to hurry. They could talk as they rode their bikes.
“I don’t like Mr. Grey,” said Benny.
“He doesn’t seem very honest,” Henry agreed.
“He admitted to sneaking into Lina’s house to look around,” Violet added.
“But was he really looking for the quilts? I didn’t notice any quilts in his shop, just furniture and lots of china and glass,” Jessie said.
“You’re right!” said Violet.
“Maybe he was searching for the hidden treasure,” Benny said.
“I think he does know who Mr. Munsey is,” Henry said. “I don’t think he told us the truth.”
“Do you think Mr. Grey and Mr. Munsey could be working together? Mr. Grey could have been the one who tried to break in…” Jessie’s voice trailed off.
“To get the quilts for Mr. Munsey,” Henry finished for her. “But how does Regina Lott fit in all this? How did she hear about the quilts and the treasure?”
“And what is the treasure?” Benny added.
“What about Coral?” asked Violet. “She’s a quilt expert, too, but she doesn’t know Mr. Munsey. Or at least she says she doesn’t.”
“And she was acting strange when we were in her shop,” agreed Jessie.
“Coral has a nice smile,” said Benny. “I like her.”
“But everyone is a suspect, Benny,”
Henry said firmly. “Coral did seem to know about the quilts in the attic.”
“Maybe Mr. Munsey told Dirk Grey, and he told Coral, and she’s the one who’s after the quilts!” said Jessie.
“It does seem like a stretch,” Jessie said. She sighed.
“We have suspects and clues, but nothing that puts them together,” Violet said.
“It’s like a quilt without a pattern,” said Benny.
“Exactly like that,” said Henry. “A crazy quilt mystery.”
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