The note said nothing else, nor was it signed. Vera thought perhaps that it was from Officer Ambler. But in any case, the timing was perfect—she would investigate this clue immediately after breakfast! She had the whole day free to ask questions about Thomas Springfield.
The fox made her way downstairs to the dining room, where breakfast would be available. Vera was relieved to see that Bradley Marvel wasn’t up yet. With any luck, she could have a quick meal, and ask her hostess where Acorn Way was before she encountered the wolf.
The mahogany sideboard in the dining room was set with everything a creature could want for breakfast. There were bowls of sliced fruit, yogurt, and a large tureen containing oatmeal with brown sugar. There was also a chafing dish filled with fluffy scrambled eggs. Best of all, there was a platter of delicious-looking pieces of freshly baked crumb cake.
“This is the life,” Vera said as she filled her plate. She also poured herself a mug of coffee from the carafe. Wouldn’t it be nice to have breakfast like this every day?
When Kitty St. Clair popped into the room to remove the dirty dishes, and Vera took the opportunity to ask the chipmunk for directions to Acorn Way. It was some distance from the center of Highbank, but Vera was feeling quite full, and a walk would do her good.
After she thanked Kitty for such a lovely meal, she went back up to her room for a hat. She could hear loud snores echoing from a closed door down the hall from her room. Vera was happy that she could continue her sleuthing without his unwelcome assistance.
The fox trotted briskly up the road, following the directions that Kitty St. Clair had given her. It was a beautiful crisp day, and Vera’s spirits rose as she mulled over the information that she had gotten about Thomas Springfield. Her theory about Thomas murdering Edward was ruined now that she had discovered that Thomas had been dead for three years. She would have to come up with a new concept to fit the facts. Furthermore, there had been no exact identification of the headless corpse found in Shady Hollow, so it was possible the answer would be something entirely different once they learned who’d really been killed.
After some time, Vera turned onto a dirt road with a handmade sign that informed her she was on Acorn Way. She was well away from Highbank now, and it had been ten minutes since she saw a house. The surroundings were peaceful though. It was so nice to be able to formulate her thoughts without Bradley Marvel rambling in her ear. She thought that she might have trouble figuring out which cabin had belonged to Thomas Springfield, but there seemed to be only one residence on this deserted dirt road. She approached the dilapidated dwelling cautiously.
There was a rusted mailbox attached to the wall next to the front door. It had a label that was partly gone, with only the letters Springf left to read. The door was closed but not locked. Vera knocked, just in case, but after a long silence, she pushed it open. She stood on the threshold for a moment, but heard no movement from within. This cabin must have been sitting empty since the rat’s death three years ago.
The cabin was basically one room, with a bare cot on one side and a tiny kitchen on the other. The furniture (such as it was) had been left behind, but there were no personal items in sight. No clothes or toiletries anywhere.
A slight sound, like the creaking of a floorboard, made her spin around and face the opposite wall, but there was nothing unusual to be seen—just the bare, uncurtained window looking out onto the overgrown front yard.
Pushing away a slight feeling of creepiness, Vera continued her search. But there was almost nothing to be searched there. No pictures or books on the small, sad-looking shelf above the table with its lone dining chair. Vera checked the cabinets in the kitchen and the small dresser that stood next to the cot. All were empty.
“So much for finding a clue,” she muttered. This excursion to Thomas’s cabin had been a waste of time.
As Vera exited the ramshackle cabin, she thought about the best way to get back to town. She had taken the long way from the village along the road, following the careful directions from Kitty St. Clair, which were designed to prevent her from getting lost, not for maximum efficiency. While there was undoubtedly a more direct route through the woods that locals would know about, Vera decided that it would be foolish for her to try to navigate her way through the unfamiliar territory.
Just then, she caught sight of something within the deeper shadows of the pine trees to the west. A creature-sized mass, pulling just out of her view.
Vera remembered the creepy feeling of being watched. Had some animal been peeking at her through the window? She quickened her pace, trotting away from the cabin and into the woods toward where she’d seen that hint of movement.
As she neared the group of pine trees, a shadow detached itself from the general gloom and shuffled away along a narrow path scarcely wide enough for a single creature to go.
“Hey!” Vera yelled. “Who’s there? You can talk to me! It’s safe. I’m just a reporter. Won’t you come here?”
But the shadow did exactly the opposite, now running at a faster pace. She noticed a glint of silver on the ground, and saw that the creature had dropped a coin.
She had no time to pick it up and examine it further. Vera squinted as she increased her own pace to catch her quarry. Was it a weasel? Or a rat, or a stoat, perhaps? The shifting patches of light from the tree canopy provided a natural camouflage, and it was impossible to tell.
“Hey, I’m not
