The Mystery of the Uninvited Ghost

limply to the top of the neckband. An equally stringy moustache hid his mouth, and huge dark glasses hid his eyes. In a nasal voice, he said, “I’ll sign. I’m Miss Ryks’s nephew. Miss Ryks is sacked out. Indisposed.”
    He signed the receipt, accepted the wheelchair, pulled it into the room, and closed the door. Trixie and Honey ducked through the service entrance door before the Teed man turned the corner of the hall. The girls were busy unlocking their bikes when he drove away in the same pickup that Hallie had seen at Wimpy s.
    “I wonder,” Trixie worried, “if we should go back and try again to see Miss Ryks. If we could describe her, maybe Hans or Juliana would recognize her.”
    “We can’t go back. She’s sick.”
    “She can’t be all that sick,” Trixie argued. “She expects to be well enough in two weeks to go to a wedding, doesn’t she?”
    Trixie straddled her bicycle but kept both feet on the parking lot pavement. “Miss Ryks should be told about that wheelchair. If it was stolen once, it can be stolen again, and there she’d be, unable to attend the wedding of her dear old friends, and—”
    Honey giggled. “Dear old friends! Trixie, neither Hans nor Juliana ever heard of her!”
    “Well, she’s heard of them,” Trixie said. “Right now, let’s get back to that wheelchair. We know a man caught a ride with the Teed driver. We’ve seen the truck. No chair could fall out, so somebody lifted it out. Probably the hitchhiker. He could have hidden the chair to collect the reward money. Right?”
    “You saw the man pushing the chair. Did he look like a thief?” Honey asked.
    “How do I know what a thief looks like? The point is, there’s a man with sticky fingers who hasn’t been caught yet. He’s not just greedy—he’s mean. He knew someone was helpless without that chair. Isn’t it our civic duty to do something about people like him?” Honey was more lenient. “Maybe he didn’t give that a thought. When I have a problem, I don’t always think of how my actions will affect other people.”
    “Oh, you!” Trixie scoffed affectionately. “You’re at the head of the line when it comes to considering other people.” Trixie scanned the parking lot, where the night-lights had just been turned on. She grinned at Honey. “Can you spot a wheelchair thief right this minute? Well, neither can I, so let’s go home.”
    Honey bent to retie a shoelace before getting on her bike. While Trixie waited for her, she rode in a slow, wobbling circle, appreciating the shadows that cooled the old brick walls of the inn. She watched a well-fed cat walk toward the back of the building. Evidently it was headed for the kitchen door, where a row of garbage cans had been set out for the trash collector. Suddenly Trixie began pedaling at a furious rate after the cat.
    “Trixie! Have you lost your mind?” Honey, too, joined the cat’s parade.
    “It’s Hallie!” Trixie yelled. “I saw her leave the rear of the building.”
    “You must be wrong,” Honey insisted.
    But Trixie wasn’t wrong. Hallie saw them coming and waited in the paved area near the garbage cans.
    “What are you doing here, Hallie Belden?” Trixie yelled.
    “Same thing you are,” Hallie retorted. “Snooping.”
    Immediately on the defensive, Trixie said angrily, “I’m not snooping! I’m investigating! I knew it would be like this. Not a minute to myself! We agreed on no kissy-kissy, but you’re obviously still whacko-whacko!” Trixie took a deep breath, almost prepared to pick up her previous show of temper where she’d left off. Then she smiled instead. “I did it again, didn’t I, Hallie? I’m sorry. What did you find out?”
    To Trixie’s surprise, tears ran down Hallie’s brown face. In alarm, Trixie asked, “Is—is something wrong?” She’d never seen Hallie Belden cry.
    Hallie swiped at the tears with the back of a hand. “That’s the first time you ever said ‘sorry’ when you didn’t have to,” she gulped.
    “Oh.” Too embarrassed to continue her questioning, Trixie stared at the only object close at hand— that stray cat.
    Honey rushed to Trixie’s rescue. “What did you find out, Hallie? We know who ordered the chair.”
    “Miss Ryks,” Hallie confirmed. “Well, I found out that she has strange eating habits. She’s been here two days, but she’s never been to the dining room, and she hasn’t ordered a bite of food from the kitchen. Then just a few minutes ago, she