The Mystery of the Uninvited Ghost

display. Everything’s okay.” He took a step, then turned back to say, “You look as pretty as Juliana.” Trixie blushed with pleasure.
    Together they watched Sergeant Molinson walk beside Miss Ryks’s wheelchair as Brian pushed it all the way to the center of the audience. Miss Ryks looked regal in a dove gray costume with a chin-high collar, long sleeves, and a long, full skirt. She wore her customary dark glasses.
    When Trixie exhaled a worried breath, Jim asked, “What are we going to do?”
    “I don’t know,” Trixie said soberly. “Keep our eyes open and be ready, I guess.”
    “I’m with you,” Jim promised, then hurried to the summerhouse to join the pastor and Hans.
    Trixie watched Mart seat the family of the president of her father’s bank. Brian escorted Juliana’s friends, the De Jongs, who had cut short their vacation in the Poconos. Now it was time to seat Mrs. Wheeler, who was substituting as mother of the bride.
    Suddenly the wedding march began, startling the birds into a burst of song. It was Friday, the sixth of August, at half after four o’clock.
    Trixie wasn’t prepared for the adult looks on her brothers’ faces when they led the march down the curving path of flat stones. They were followed by Di and Honey, who hooked fingers before leaving the hall. Juliana had wanted a simple procession, so each
    person walked along the path at his or her own pace.
    Trixie began to move forward. She kept her eyes on the pastor, who stood behind the altar and held the Wheelers’ own white Bible. Tall and blond, Hans waited in the bower of daisies for Juliana. Beside him stood Jim, with sun slanting on his red hair.
    At Trixie’s heels danced the Lynch twins, scattering flower petals. They giggled, but Bobby marched solemnly, much aware of his responsibility.
    When she passed the table where her mother presided over the guest book, Trixie’s brain beat a wild tattoo. Where’s Hallie? Where’s Hallie?
    Trixie reached the altar and waited for Mr. Wheeler to come down the path with Juliana.
    On the walk down the aisle of flowers, Matthew Wheeler paused to break a blossom from a plant. He waved it in front of Juliana’s face, trying to make the rather nervous bride smile. Trixie heard Juliana’s little giggle of surprise. All heads turned toward the bride, and every face beamed with delight.
    Trixie smiled, but just for a moment. Her ears had caught the muffled hum of a motor, not in the parking lot where it might indicate a latecomer, but someplace out of sight near the bicycle rack. She found herself standing on tiptoe, straining for a glimpse of something happening on the opposite side of the house. Jim noticed her tension. His face went blank while he, too, listened.
    When Mr. Wheeler had performed his duty as “father of the bride,” he sat beside his wife and gave her the fragrant blossom he had picked.
    The ceremony was simple and profoundly moving. Trixie was sure she would remember the vows forever. Yet when the pastor said, “May I present Mr. and Mrs. Hans Vorwald,” every word was erased from her mind.
    Right before the Bob-Whites’ eyes, Juliana had changed in such important ways. She had come into the valley as Janie, the girl with no memory. Next, she was Juliana Maasden, Jim’s only living relative. Now she was Mrs. Hans Vorwald, whose home was in Amsterdam.
    The loud and joyous recessional music started, and Juliana and Hans walked slowly down the path. Holding hands, they smiled at each other and at friends.
    Trixie and Jim each took six steps and met at the altar. When she put her gloved hand on Jim’s jacket sleeve, Trixie felt the trembling of his arm. Jim, too, had been deeply moved by the ceremony.
    “So beautiful,” Trixie murmured. Jim nodded.
    As they faced the guests and began to walk back down the path, Jim asked, “The receiving line will take several minutes, won’t it?”
    “Of course,” Trixie said. “All the guests will go through it.”
    “I have to check the bags and be sure Tom has the car ready to take Hans and Juliana to the airport. Then there’s something I have to investigate. I'll get Mart and Brian to help me.”
    “You heard the sound of a motor?” Trixie didn’t try to be more specific. She wasn’t sure exactly what she’d heard when the organ had played its loudest.
    Again Jim nodded. “I couldn’t keep my eyes off Miss Ryks. For some reason, she’s demanding all of Sergeant Molinson’s attention.”
    “I’ll keep