Abbie Walker returns in The Masterpiece, the fourth novel featuring the young super sleuth.  When Abbie takes the leading role in the local theatre group's production of The Secret Garden, she begins to hear something that no one else does - the voice of a ghost that haunts the theatre!  Abbie and her friends become entangled in an adventure that involves a mystery that has been fifty-seven years in the making!

CHAPTER ONE

February 15, 1947

Run...run...run faster. I’ve got to get away! Why did I go in there?

Keep running! Run! Why did I have to go in there?

The ladder. There! Maybe I can lose him. Up. Up there. Maybe he won’t look up there.

Climb...as fast as I can. Don’t breathe so hard. What if he hears me?

Almost...there...the top.

No! There’s nowhere up here to hide. And, it’s so far up. I hate heights. Have to keep moving. Don’t look down. Have to be careful. Keep moving. Careful...there’s so much space between the boards. People really used to come up here? Wait! What was that? Oh no! He’s found me...he’s coming! Nowhere to go...

A gruff voice sounded behind her. “There you are. What did you see? Tell me, what did you see?”

Have to go...where?

A cracking sound.

I’m falling...Help!

Laughter...the sinister laugh of the man who was glad that I’ll never be able to tell his secret.

It’s over now, all finished. I can see him staring down at me. But, he’s not laughing anymore. He seems sad. I can hear him. I can hear him as clearly as if he were standing next to me. He’s talking to himself, but his tone is different now.

“What am I going to do with the body?”

He seems so concerned with that, but I’m also the only person who knows he’s a thief.

Swirls of deep blue swept her away.

CHAPTER TWO

The Noise Above

Abbie Elizabeth Walker awoke with a jolt and no memory of the nightmare. 11:59. The large, bright red numbers on the digital clock pierced the darkness. Abbie sat up, disoriented for a second. She rubbed her eyes until she could open them fully. Abbie took a deep breath and realized she had fallen asleep. Again she looked at the clock beside her bed. In the bottom right hand corner of the clock’s face, the seconds pulsed like a steady heart towards the hour. Abbie counted down the seconds.

“Five, four, three, two,” she said softly and the numbers changed to 12:00. “Happy New Year to me.”

She sighed. The last moments of December faded quietly away and a drowsy silence lay over Samantha Barrett’s farmhouse. Instead of dancing to loud music and counting down the New Year with her friends, Abbie had watched the final moments tick away--alone.

Abbie had the chance to go snow skiing in Montana with her parents but had opted to stay home in hopes that Tyler Graham would ask her to Meredith’s New Year’s Eve party.

When the time came, he didn’t ask. Even though Meredith and all of her friends insisted that she come anyway, Abbie refused to go alone. The truth was she didn’t want to stand around all night watching Tyler hang all over some other girl. She wondered which girl he had asked. As it was Tyler, it could be any one of about twenty girls in the sixth grade at Albany Junior High.

Abbie stayed with her grandmother while her parents went away for the holiday. The farmhouse was nearly twenty miles outside of Albany. Abbie loved the silence of the farm. It was particularly quiet at the moment, since her grandmother was down the road at Martha Pearson’s house celebrating New Year’s Eve with her friends. It was just as well. She didn’t want to be at Meredith’s party. Kirk Simpson and Sarah Martin, her partners in AGS Investigations, were out of town until after the first of the year. Abbie was alone.

Abbie let out a long, slow breath and stared up at the dark ceiling. Just as she closed her eyes, a peculiar sound startled her. Abbie bolted upright.

What was that?

Her heart pounded. She wasn’t alone.

Someone’s in the house!

Abbie quickly pushed the covers back and stepped onto the cold hardwood floor. She reached for her backpack and took out a flashlight. Abbie pulled back the lace curtains and peeked out the window to see if her grandmother’s car was in the drive. It wasn’t. She hadn’t returned. If there was a burglar in the house, he probably thought no one was home.

Another sound. Abbie looked up. The sounds were definitely coming from the attic. She knelt down on the patchwork rug and rummaged through her backpack once again. Abbie took out her cell phone and flipped it open. She pressed 9-1-1, but hesitated as she put her finger on the send button. Her detective mind told her to go and investigate, but her common sense pleaded with her to push the green Send button.

What if it’s just a squirrel scratching around up there? I’ll be the laughing stock of the family if I call the cops out to apprehend a squirrel. Instead of Abbie, Girl Spy, they’ll call me Abbie, Girl Desperate!

Abbie pressed the send button.

“9-1-1, what is the nature of your emergency?”

In a whispery tone she gave a rapid-fire response. “My name is Abbie Walker. I am alone at my grandmother’s house on 112 Willow Bend Road in Pleasant Hill. There is an intruder in the attic.”

“You’re calling from a cell phone?”

“Yes,” Abbie replied. “It’s my cell phone. There isn’t a landline telephone in my bedroom.” “Young lady, I must warn you that if this is a New Year’s prank, you can--”

“Look! I swear to you--” Another sound from above made the hairs on her arms stand up. “This is not a prank. There is someone in the attic! If you don’t believe me, contact Sergeant Jane Galloway at the Albany Police Department. She knows me.”

“All right, Abbie. Hold on.”

Dumbfounded, Abbie pulled the phone away from her ear and held it out in front of her. “She’s actually checking me out,” Abbie muttered to herself. “Unbelievable.” She put the phone back to her ear. Only seconds passed, but they seemed like an eternity. Finally, the elevator music ceased, and the dispatcher’s voice returned.

“Abbie?”

“Yes, I’m here.”

“A sheriff’s deputy has been dispatched to that address. Are you safe?”

What kind of dumb question is that? Do you really think a burglar would let me call 9-1-1 on my cell phone if I was tied up or in immediate danger?

Trying not to sound too sarcastic, she replied, “For the moment, yeah, I guess.”

“Sergeant Galloway wanted us to give you a message. She said not to do anything stupid. Do you understand?”

Abbie chuckled. That sounded like something Jane would say. “Yeah, I understand.”

“We’re going to stay on the phone with you until the deputies arrive, okay?” Abbie shook her head in disbelief. This lady was treating her like she was five years old. “Yeah, whatever.”

More sounds from the attic. This time it sounded like the burglar was sliding something around. What do you want up there? Now that help had been called, Abbie was no longer afraid. Instead, her curiosity peaked. An odd thought occurred to her.

Why would a burglar steal from someone’s attic? Why aren’t you downstairs racking up with all of my grandmother’s electronics and jewelry? This doesn’t make sense.

Abbie couldn’t stand it any longer. The time had come to take matters into her own hands, however she knew she couldn’t just hang up on 9-1-1.

It’s time to switch to actor mode.

“Uh...I’m losing my signal,” Abbie said.

The emergency dispatcher on the other end tried to comfort her by telling her to be brave and hang on.

Abbie rolled her eyes.

Give me a break. Lady, if you had any idea of all the close calls I’ve had in the past year, you wouldn’t be treating me like this.

“Thanks,” Abbie replied and pressed end. She held down the volume button until the ringer switched to vibrate. The last thing she wanted was for 9-1-1 to call back and alert the intruder. She put the phone on the nightstand and picked up her flashlight. She switched on the low beam and a faint flicker of light shot out ahead of her. Abbie walked gingerly to the bedroom door. Just as she put her hand on the brass doorknob she remembered how squeaky the door’s hinges were. Abbie tiptoed back to her detective backpack and located her small spray can of WD40. She kept it packed for just such an emergency. Again, she crossed the bedroom floor and sprayed all three of the hinges. She slowly turned the doorknob and cracked open the door. It swung open silently.

When she stepped into the hallway, Abbie’s heart almost stopped. The attic door was open!

Oh my gosh! The intruder has been on this floor...and near my bedroom door!

Abbie took a step back into her bedroom and, as she did, she noticed something else. Another door was open at the end of the hallway. It was the door that was always kept locked. The door to the room that she wasn’t supposed to ask Grandma about.

Something was up and she was going to find out just what. Abbie tiptoed down the hall and stopped at the doorway to the attic. Sounds placed the intruder still in the attic. As she poked her head into the stairwell, Abbie felt a little quiver in her stomach, but she had serious doubts that the ghost of her grandfather would be waiting for her at the top of the stairs. And if he was, so be it. Abbie was scared of many things, but ghosts were not on that list.

Abbie took a deep breath and slowly started climbing the stairs.

So far, so good--none of the steps are making a noise. With each step she took, the air became colder. Chill bumps spread over her arms and legs like a wildfire.

They must have come in through the attic window. Just a little further.

Abbie moved carefully, but a creak from the last step gave her presence away. The intruder ran to the window, climbed out onto the roof, and vanished into the darkness.

Abbie followed to see if she could catch a glimpse of the intruder. She switched her flashlight to high beam and pointed it at the rooftop where the intruder would have had to escape from.

Nothing.

She scanned the edge of the black-shingled roof until the light encountered a trellis that extended from the gutter to the ground.

So that’s how you got up here.

Abbie moved the beam of light into the open field behind the farmhouse. Just as the light hit the edge of the cornfield, she saw a dark figure disappear behind the dead stalks.

Abbie let out a quick breath of relief. She closed the window and secured the latch. She moved the light around the attic room. There were several boxes that had been opened and, around them, a variety of junk littered the floor.

Carefully, she scanned the attic. The beam of the flashlight caught her reflection in a tall, oval dressing mirror. Abbie jumped. She caught her breath and proceeded to breathe in and out slowly to calm herself.

Abbie shuffled across the attic floor towards the mirror, watching her reflection grow larger and larger. The moonlight from the window illuminated her thin frame hidden under a long, loose nightshirt. Her shoulder length dirty blonde hair was messy. She turned sideways to examine her non-existent figure and let out a sigh of disgust.

Suddenly, she remembered the opened bedroom door downstairs. Turning her thoughts away from her vanity, Abbie raced down the steps and closed the attic door behind her. As she stepped into the bedroom, she switched on the light. It was painfully obvious from the décor of the room that no one had bothered to redecorate the room in several decades. A thick layer of dust covered the dresser, but other than that, nothing seemed to be moved or strange enough to keep behind a locked door.

“What did you want from this room?” Abbie asked. Suddenly, her gaze caught something purple. The bottom dresser drawer had a piece of clothing sticking out of it. She walked over to the dresser and knelt down to get a closer look. As she scanned the outside of the drawer, she noticed clean smooth marks in the dust. Someone’s fingers had swept across the dusty exterior.

Abbie opened the drawer. Wool sweaters were folded and stacked neatly inside. She felt around the drawer. Something shifted slightly. Abbie pulled the sweaters out and laid them on the floor. She jiggled the thin piece of wood that covered the bottom of the drawer. Abbie worked her finger under one end and lifted it out. Nothing.

Disappointed, Abbie picked up the false bottom and started to put it back. As she turned it over, she saw something rather unusual. Abbie ran her finger across an imprint on the board. There was no mistake as to what the original object had been. It was an odd-shaped key. At last Abbie felt sure she knew what the intruder was after.