Bro glanced over at Harmony. He looked angry. Harmony laid a finger crosswise across her lips, meaning zip it.
Melanie looked our way again. “Most people thought Sasha—that’s what I called him, although now I’m starting to think of him as ‘Alex,’ kind of weird—was just a dreamer. He did have big dreams, but he wasn’t just a dreamer. The problem was something or other always came along and derailed him.”
“What did he do for a living?” Harmony said.
“Various things,” said Melanie. “Although not for the past year or so. Alex did have a small inheritance. His family was rich. But that was a long time ago. And the inheritance was dwindling on account of a bad investment Alex made—something about a nickel mine. I never got the details.”
“How did his family get rich?” Harmony said.
“They were in the distillery business.”
“What’s that?” Bro said.
“Whisky,” said Harmony.
“That’s right,” Melanie said. “They did very well during Prohibition but then came a long decline and finally they went out of business. Alex was actually born in a mansion—it’s now a museum—but it got sold a few months later, so he had no memories of the place. He hung photos of it on the walls of our apartment.”
“I still don’t understand why he came here,” Harmony said.
“I’m sorry. I’m trying to tell you.” Melanie tried to pick up the mug again, but her hands were too shaky and she left it on the armrest. She took a quick glance at Harmony. “Are you the girl who guided him up the mountain? The sheriff mentioned something about that.”
“Partway,” said Harmony.
“This must be upsetting for you, too.”
“We’re okay,” Bro said, from over by the fire.
Harmony shot him a quick look, possibly reminding him to zip it. “Well, a bit upsetting,” she said. “Which is maybe why I want to understand.”
“Fair enough,” Melanie said. She took a deep breath, pulled herself together. “The LeMaires dealt with a rough family in New York called the Florios. They didn’t trust each other, so they worked out a complicated scheme for payment and delivery. Alex spent a long time researching this, hunting through old family records, but evidently the scheme involved a map and a postcard. You needed both to find where the money was buried, but Alex couldn’t figure out how it worked exactly. For the very last shipment, at the end of Prohibition, old Mr. LeMaire came down here to collect the money as usual, but old Mr. Florio showed up in person and double-crossed him. No one ever knew the details, but they ended up killing each other and the money stayed buried.”
“Fifteen thousand dollars,” Harmony said.
“How did you know that?”
“Is it true?”
“Yes and no,” Melanie said. “The money was actually paid in the form of small gold bars. In 1932, gold was about twenty dollars an ounce.”
“And now?” Harmony said.
“It’s about thirteen hundred.”
“Wow.”
“Yes,” said Melanie. “Meaning that original fifteen thousand is now much more.”
Bro poked at the fire, more gently this time. “Nine hundred and seventy-five thousand,” he said quietly.
They both turned to him in surprise. Well, Melanie in surprise, Harmony in shock.
“Bro? How did you do that?”
“Dunno,” Bro said. The fire made crackling noises and then a big log burst into flame.
“Anyway, he’s right,” Melanie said, “although Alex always rounded it off to a million. Back in the thirties a LeMaire or two went hunting for the gold, and presumably so did the other side, but no one ever found it.”
“How do you know the Florios never did?” Harmony said.
“Because Alex came upon one of those postcards. That’s what started this whole thing. It was only last month, when a great-uncle died—the last living LeMaire except for him. Alex was cleaning out this great-uncle’s cottage up north and the postcard turned up in some moldy box. He got in touch with a Florio descendant—they’re still in the nightclub business, apparently. And Vincent Florio was interested in going in together on a new search, fifty-fifty, which he wouldn’t have been if they’d already found the gold. He even said he had the map.”
“Are you saying the Florios double-crossed the LeMaires again?” Harmony said.
Melanie smiled a small smile, here and gone. “You’re way ahead of me.” Then her whole face got very sad, and I could hardly believe a smile had just been there. “And way ahead of Alex, too,” she said. “He was always a little too clever.”
“What do you mean?” Harmony said.
“I don’t mean he wasn’t smart,” Melanie said. “In fact, his IQ was amazing. But I always wondered if it did him any good. Maybe it was the reverse.” She sighed. “The truth is he couldn’t resist a double-cross of his own. After all, the money was a payment for delivered goods. By all rights the whole thing belonged to the LeMaires. And he was the last one. So it was a kind of redemption, if you see what I mean.”
Did they see what she meant? There was no sign of that on either of the kids’ faces. I didn’t get it, either, but I also didn’t care. What I cared about at that moment was Mom. For no reason I could think of, I was starting to worry about her. And not knowing the reason made it worse.
“But the point is, being too clever, Alex came down here a day early,” Melanie went on. “He brought a bottle of whisky from Prohibition days as a gift for Florio, but he also took this old gun that had been in the family. For insurance, he told me. Even though he knew nothing about guns. Still, at the time, I thought he was being clever. Now I see he didn’t know what he was doing.” Melanie dabbed at her eyes. “When he got here he started poking around. And I guess he somehow found the map on his own—he sent me a text. Does that mean Florio didn’t have it after all? There’s so much I don’t understand. The sheriff told me that no map was found with … with his body.”
“Did you tell all this to the sheriff?” Harmony said.
“I tried to, but if it’s not about Colonial artifacts he doesn’t want to hear,” said Melanie.
“Because he’s got Matty,” Bro said. “So what are we going to do?”
“Mom will think of something,” Harmony said. “She should be—”
From outside came the sound of barking, the voice very familiar. Arthur has a number of barks. This was the desperate one, usually meaning he was hungry. But was there something else in that bark, something I’d never quite heard from Arthur before? Whatever it was made me worry about Mom even more.
“They’re back,” Harmony said, and left the room, heading for the front door.
I stayed where I was, keeping Melanie in sight. I was suddenly in a suspicious mood, suspicious of everyone except us, the family. Melanie gazed into her mug. A tear fell from her eye and landed in the tea, made a tiny wave. Bro noticed she was crying and got busy with the fire. Then came Harmony’s voice from the front hall.
“Bro? Got a sec?”
“All the time in the world.”
THE FRONT DOOR OPENED AND Harmony looked out. Oh, it was so good to see her! I was at my wits’ end. That’s something Bertha says when everything is just too much, like something’s burning in the oven at the same time the toilets back up. I’d never understood before, but now I did. Wherever my wits were, I’d reached the end, maybe even gone past them.
“Arthur?” Harmony said, kneeling down to my level. “What’s wrong?”
Everything was wrong. I panted and panted, couldn’t stop.
“Bro?” Harmony called over her shoulder. “Got a sec?”
I heard Bro’s voice from inside the house. “All the time in the world.”
“Bro? That means come here.”
“Oh.”
And a moment later, Bro was in the doorway, too. “Got a sec means come here? I’m learning something every—uh-oh. What’s with Arthur?”
“He’s by himself and he’s c
arrying his leash,” Harmony said.
Bro looked around. “Where’s Mom?”
“That’s the question.” Harmony rose, cupped her hands to her mouth, and called, “Mom! Mom!”
No answer. I knew there wouldn’t be. Now Bro knelt down and patted my head. “What’s the problem, buddy?”
Problems. That was just it. We had problems. Big, big problems. Smithers, Florio—whatever his name was—had taken Mom away! He had a gun! What was he doing to her? I ran my very fastest round and round in little circles, sniffing at the snow, all I could think of to do. Meanwhile, Bro and Harmony were gazing at the road and the trees beyond. There was no one around.
“Mom? Mom?”
I heard something like whimpering. Was it coming from me? I hoped not.
“Harm?” Bro said. “Maybe he wants us to follow him.”
They both watched me. “He’s never done anything like that before,” Harmony said.
They watched me some more. “But he’s doing it now,” Bro said.
Was that what I was doing? Yes! I just hadn’t realized it. Follow me! Follow old Arthur!
Harmony nodded. “I’ll tell Melanie we’re going.”
She went into the house. I was having no trouble picking up Mom’s scent. There was plenty of it around. Mom’s scent is one of my very favorites. There’s something lemony about it that I love. But now it was making me so anxious. How could something I love make me anxious at the same time? When you’re past the end of your wits, you can’t answer questions like that.
Harmony returned, now wearing her jacket, hat, and mittens. She tossed Bro his jacket and gloves. Bro had decided he wasn’t wearing a hat this winter, for reasons I couldn’t remember.
“Melanie’s staying the night,” Harmony said. “Mom can register her later.”
“Yeah,” said Bro. “Mom’ll do it.”
Their eyes met. Some sort of strong feeling passed between them. I could sense it, but I didn’t know what it was.
“Okay, Arthur,” Bro said. “Let’s go.”
I stopped circling, trotted toward the road, maybe not my fastest trot, but not quite walking, either. At the road I made a turn, headed toward Willard’s.
“He’s heading toward Willard’s,” Bro said.
“Mom probably tied him up, went inside for coffee, and he escaped.”
“Yeah,” said Bro.
“Except why would he go home instead of wait for her?”
“Plus Mom never drinks coffee after noon.”
They didn’t speak again until we got to Willard’s. I picked up speed a bit, heading toward the back of the building, finding the scent of the snowmobile exhaust. On track!
“Whoa,” Harmony said. “Come back here, Arthur.”
But I didn’t want to go back there. I wanted to—
Harmony grabbed my leash. After some changes in position, we all ended up entering Willard’s together. Normally I’d have wanted to take my time inside Willard’s, nosing around to my heart’s content, or even past that. But not now!
Harmony and Bro glanced around the store.
“She’s not here,” Harmony said.
Which I knew! Why weren’t we hurrying? We had to hurry!
“What’s with the whimpering?” Harmony said.
“Probably wants one of those bacon chewies,” said Bro.
“He doesn’t whimper for those,” Harmony said. “He just wags his tail super hard. And look at it.”
They looked at my tail. For a moment I wasn’t sure myself what it was doing.
“Hanging there,” Bro said. “Doing zip.”
That sounded a bit shameful. I tried to raise it nice and high, but I got no cooperation.
“So what does he want?” Harmony said.
Mr. Willard spoke up from behind the cash. There are three Mr. Willards at Willard’s: an old one, a young one—both fans of mine—and one in the middle, not a fan. This was that one.
“What does he always want?” he said. “A handout. And every time it’s the same stupid trick. Playing dead. Sheesh. Why can’t he—”
“Excuse me, Mr. Willard,” Harmony said. “Was my mom in here?”
Mr. Willard screwed up his face. All the Mr. Willards screwed up their faces when thinking was going on. “Depends when you mean.”
“Recently,” Harmony said. “This afternoon. Within the last hour or so.”
Mr. Willard shook his head. “No.”
“Let’s go,” Harmony said, giving my leash a little tug.
“Huh?” said Mr. Willard. “No playing dead?”
“Not today,” Harmony said.
That was Harmony, right again. Did we have time for tricks, even great ones like playing dead? We did not. Why not? Because of Mom!
Outside Willard’s, Bro said, “Now where?”
“I don’t know,” Harmony said. “Maybe— Hey! Arthur!”
Had I pulled the leash right out of Harmony’s hand? That might have happened. Not good, I know, but … but it was because of Mom! I ran around to the back, maybe not actually running on account of how tired I was, although I was certainly trotting my fastest. Right away, I picked up the smell of the snowmobile exhaust and followed it toward the woods behind Willard’s. Harmony and Bro came after me, somehow catching up despite my speed.
“He knows something,” Harmony said.
I kept trotting, perhaps not my fastest trot anymore, although I was going very fast inside. We came to the opening in the woods where the trail began.
“He’s taking us up Mount Misty,” Harmony said. “Oh, no—do you think Mom fell? And what would she be doing up here in the first place?”
“Let’s not think,” Bro said, and he moved ahead of me. All of a sudden the sun came out for the first time in I didn’t know how long. Normally when the sun comes out it gives me a nice little lift, but this particular sun was low in the sky, its light glaring here and there through the trees in a way that gave me the opposite of a lift. By the time we started up the first rise, Harmony, too, had passed me, and Bro was no longer in sight. I could still smell him, of course, his smell mixed in with those of the snowmobile exhaust and Mom. And Mr. Smithers—who had turned out to be Mr. Florio, if I was following this right. I’d never liked him under any name.
“Harm!” Bro called down from up above. “Come quick.”
Harmony began to run. I tried to run myself, and maybe did a little. Don’t forget I’d already been this way today.
I reached the big rock with the tiny sparkles at the first trail split. And there were Harmony and Bro, gazing at our snowmobile, parked off to the side where I’d last seen it.
“She took Arthur on the snowmobile?” Harmony said.
Bro cupped his hands to his mouth. “Mom! Mom!”
No answer. On one side of the split, the trail stayed wide and easy; on the other side it got narrow and steep.
“Which way?” Bro said.
Harmony gazed in one direction and then the other. Finally she looked at me. “Arthur? We need you.”
Well, then. I, Arthur, stepped out in front, and I, Arthur led them up the hard part. My tail rose, all by itself. I forgot to mention one other scent I was following, namely my own, which was nice and strong here, both coming and going. It’s a fine, fresh smell, by the way, kind of like the inside of our barn mixed with salt and pepper and a hint of bacon grease.
The sun got lower and lower, stopped glaring through the bare branches of the trees. The sky turned red and gold for not a long time and then came shadows spreading across the woods. Meanwhile we were moving fast, and I was sure we were all panting, although actual panting sounds seemed to be coming from only one of us. We climbed higher through the Mount Misty woods, shadows following us up and up. Then came switchbacks that made my legs even tireder than they already were. I didn’t exactly stop and sit down. It was more like—
Bro turned and looked back at me. “Arthur—stop dogging it.”
Whoa! That was going to be hard. Dogging was t
he only way I knew. How would Queenie, for example, be handling this in my place? I had no idea, just knew that this was my place, not hers. I rose—if in fact I’d actually been on my butt—and got moving at what seemed like a brisk pace. Faster than you, Queenie, I thought, faster than you. That had to be true. I was way bigger.
Soon, off to one side, I spotted the small clearing with the blackened stones in the middle. This was where I’d found the remains of a PB&J sandwich under a charred stick. And who was a fan of PB&J? Mr. Florio, who used to be Mr. Smithers. For a moment I understood everything! Then came the next moment and I was back to knowing not too much. And just as happy! Maybe more so this way!
Not long after that, the shadows all joined together and became night.
“Should have brought a flashlight,” Harmony said.
“We didn’t know,” said Bro. “We’ll just have to follow Arthur’s nose.”
I moved into the lead, following my nose just as Bro had suggested. Shapes went by in the darkness, shapes I recognized only because I’d seen them by daylight, like the huge tree stump with the puffball mushrooms on top, and the thick walls of needly trees. Then came the steepest part where the kids had to get down on all fours. And now we were all dogging it! What a great game this would have been if I wasn’t so anxious!
By this time we were all panting pretty good. “Know what I’m thinking?” Harmony said in between pants. “We could use a dad right now.”
“I can’t stand him,” Bro said.
They kept going, still on all fours, now grunting a bit with the effort.
“Queenie was his idea,” Harmony said after a while.
“So?
“To solve the mouse problem.”
“So?”
What was this? Queenie was Dad’s idea? Whoa! I had memories of Dad, but they were fading from my mind. I tried to get to the bottom of what Harmony meant, and was still trying when we came to a dark wall rising in the night.
“The cliff,” Harmony said.
The steps that were cut into the rock on the lower part gleamed faintly in the night. Bro bent down.
“Harm? Check out the snow here at the bottom of the steps.”
Ruff vs. Fluff Page 17