“You’re like Nancy Drew in some mystery contest,” said Emily, drawing easy analogies. Cassie was sixteen, fair-haired, outspoken, wildly independent and very determined.
“Don’t call me a Nancy,” Cassie complained. “And I’m no Patsy either.” She rescued a small white key from beneath a chair. “Now, let’s open that safe.”
Nearby a hidden statue smoked, unseen by either child. Great-grandfather knew Cass would never take her mother’s necklace if he gave it her, but clues and mystery were sure to win the day.
“It’s beautiful,” Cassie gasped in awe.
“And it’s yours.” He stepped round the statue, nodded and smiled.