They were in the clubhouse. Eric had called an emergency meeting because he claimed he’d seen a monster. A real, actual monster. And he’d seen it twice! Last night and then again this evening.
Vi was almost thankful for this new monster distraction because she’d been driving herself crazy these last three weeks thinking about eugenics and Dr. Hicks and Gran; trying to make sense of all of it in her mind.
She still hadn’t told Iris, Eric, or Patty what she’d found out the night she was in Gran’s office. In fact, she’d lied, said there was nothing there—it had been a total bust.
And Patty was still mad at her for taking off with the key.
“I’m such an idiot. You’re just a kid,” Patty had said, shaking her head. Vi felt like her skin was full of prickers, painful and dangerous.
“No harm done,” Vi kept reminding Patty. No one had seemed to notice the missing key. Vi had put it back early the following Monday when she went into the office to talk to Miss Evelyn about making a list of plants for the bird garden. Vi had brought some plant and flower books—and when Miss Ev was sitting at her desk, absorbed, Vi had slipped the key back on the hook. Easy as pie.
The missing flashlight was another matter—Vi hadn’t mentioned it to Patty because she knew Patty would flip out completely, flat-out refuse to help with any future missions or share information. Vi had walked the halls of the Inn looking for it. She’d searched the grass around the outside of the building and near the barn where Eric and Iris had been hiding. But it was nowhere to be found.
Gran had never mentioned finding the flashlight in her office. So either that meant she hadn’t found it, or that she had and was keeping quiet while she mulled it over. Since Gran had given it to her, she’d no doubt recognize it and know that Vi had been in her office unsupervised. Vi worked the problem over in her mind daily, wondering. It made her think about the chess lessons she’d been given. Gran had started teaching her to play chess a year or so ago; to be good at chess, Gran said, you had to be thinking many moves ahead—not only your own moves, but imagining what your opponent might do.
Then, yesterday, Vi was helping Gran clean her home office, going over all the books in the shelves with a feather duster, when Gran dumped out the contents of her purse on the desk: her calfskin wallet, spare eyeglasses, pens, little notepad, lipstick and face powder, cigarettes, the gold butterfly lighter, and her heavy key ring. Vi’s eyes caught on the key ring. She knew the basement key was on there—it had to be.
“Are you all right, Violet?” Gran had asked. “You seem a little preoccupied.” That was an understatement. Every time she looked at Gran, Vi imagined her helping Dr. Hicks, and it made her head hurt and her stomach ache. Sometimes, when Gran looked at her, Vi was sure she was just waiting for her to confess, that any second she was going to pull the flashlight out of her pocket and say, “Care to explain this?”
Vi forced a smile. “I’m fine, just thinking about Iris. About how frustrating it must be to not remember anything.”
Gran nodded, began putting things back in her purse. She lit a cigarette with the gold lighter. Vi focused her eyes on the flame. “Perhaps…” Gran had said, letting the flame go out, then flicking it on again. Vi smelled the lighter fluid, studied the yellow and orange dancing together over the butterfly, which seemed to twitch its wings in the flickering light. “Perhaps some things are best not remembered.”
* * *
“I KNOW WHAT I saw,” Eric said now as they all huddled together in the clubhouse. “It was real.” He held his sketchbook on his lap, drawing while he talked. They had candles lit and an old camping lantern blazing, which made the inside of the clubhouse feel warm and cozy and protected. But Vi kept looking out the window, thinking that if there was something out there, having the building all lit up was like turning on a flashing sign outside a motel: Come on in!
Eric kept looking up from his drawing at the window, too. Iris was chewing her lip, tilting back in her chair, unable to sit still.