The Mystery of the Millionaire

theories about it?”
    “I have,” Laura Ramsey said, turning around and walking back toward them. “I’ve been turning it over in my mind all day, and the same thought keeps returning to me. It must be Frank Riebe—or a detective he’s hired to find me.”
    “Why would he do that?” Trixie asked.
    “As I told you before, if Frank can prove that my father disappeared without a trace, he can use that as grounds to take control of the company. If he has the slightest suspicion that the story I told Esther wasn’t true, hiring a detective to discover the truth would be the first thing he’d think of.”
    The detective nodded. “That makes sense,” he said. “I’ll check out this license number. In the meantime, the most important thing is for you to avoid any contact with this detective—if that’s what he is. He might try to take you or one of your friends, here, by surprise.”
    “T-Take us?” Honey stammered, her eyes wide.
    The detective waved one hand, brushing her fear aside. “I don’t mean take you physically. I mean he might pop up suddenly, in some unexpected place, and ask you a leading question, hoping you’ll blurt out some information about Laura—why she’s here, where her father is. Detectives can be tricky, believe me.” McGraw smiled wryly. “The only way to avoid making trouble is to avoid him. Be on your toes.”
    “But he hasn’t got close enough to get any information from us,” Trixie protested.
    “Yes, he has,” McGraw said, in the tone Trixie sometimes used on Bobby. “He’s got close enough to identify Laura Ramsey from a photograph. That would logically be his first step, don’t you think?”
    Trixie looked at the floor and nodded dumbly. It would be for a real detective, she thought, but she herself would probably start right in asking questions—and get lots of information about the wrong person.
    McGraw shook his head as if shooing off a pesky insect and put his notebook back in his pocket. “I’ll check out that license number,” he repeated. “Just remember: Don’t let that detective near you. And pass the word along to anyone else who knows why Miss Ramsey is here in Sleepyside.” With a curt nod, the detective left the room.
    “I’m glad you brought up the subject of the green car,” Jim told Trixie in a quiet voice.
    “I am, too,” Laura Ramsey added. “I was going to keep my suspicions to myself, so as not to cause any more worry for anyone. But I can see now that if I had, I’d have been playing right into Frank Riebe’s hands.”
    “Exactly,” Jim said.
    The tightness that Trixie had felt in her chest since she’d spotted the green car the day before disappeared. She had been right, after all, and now everyone was saying so out loud.
    “Do you want to go up to my room and work on your deposition now?” Honey asked her.
    Trixie stared at her friend blankly for a moment. In the excitement of what had just happened, she’d forgotten all about the ploy she’d invented to get to talk to Honey alone. Now, it was no longer necessary. Then, as another idea struck her, she thought, Oh, yes, it is! “Let’s go,” she said out loud.
    As soon as they were safely alone in Honey's room, Trixie said, “I don’t really have anything to add to that deposition. I wanted an excuse to talk to you. I wanted to know if you really thought there was nothing suspicious about that green car.”
    “What Laura said just now is true for me, too,” Honey said. “I was suspicious, but I wasn’t about to admit it. I thought it would just make things worse. I was wrong, as Mr. McGraw showed us.”
    “That doesn’t matter anymore,” Trixie said hastily. “What I want to talk to you about is what we didn’t show him.” Honey frowned in confusion, and Trixie continued, “Our assignments, Honey! I forgot all about them until after he left, when you mentioned the deposition. He didn’t even ask for them!”
    “Well, we didn’t offer them, either,” Honey pointed out. “The green car was so important that it was all anybody thought about. That was one of the assignments, anyway, remember? We were supposed to tell him if we noticed any strangers in town.”
    “What about the deposition?” Trixie demanded. Honey hesitated for a moment. “Mr. McGraw said he’d need the deposition for evidence in court. He probably isn’t worried about it right now. I mean, he hasn’t even proved that there is a criminal involved, much less caught one. He