“Mom’s teapot is missing,” I said, walking into the great hall. “If it’s Eli and Joel again ….”
“They both said they aren’t doing all those things.” She stopped in front of me, a little breathless, her cardigan bringing out the green in her hazel eyes. “I believe them.”
“I don’t really think the rest of the family is playing pranks, little love.” I gave her braid a tug. “Who else would it be?”
“Phoebe says it’shim.” Mellie pointed to the northwest tower.
“Don’t say that.” I looked over my shoulder in case Mom and Dad had followed me. Why the northwest tower? Weird place for the imaginary friend of Mellie’s imaginary friend. It stood farthest from the social areas, and our parents hadn’t decided what to do with it yet.
“I know.” Mellie looked at me, seeming wise for a seven year old. “They think Nan and Poppy are doing it, but they’re not.”
Mom hadn’t been happy the first time she had heard Mellie call Mr. and Mrs. Montgomery Nan and Poppy. Then the boys had started calling them that.
But seriously. If the Montgomerys had wanted to scare us away, making the kids love them seemed a really idiotic way to go about it. My mother hadn’t said anything lately, either about her theory the Montgomerys meant to scare us away or about the nicknames.
“Who’s not what?” Ezra asked, coming up behind us.
I explained about the missing teapot. Mellie said again she didn’t believe Joel and Eli had taken it, then declared she wanted breakfast and skipped off toward the kitchen.
“So, where’d it go?” I asked, frustrated.
“It’s there.” With a funny expression on his face, Ezra raised his hand and pointed to something off to the side. Mom’s teapot held a precarious balance on the top helmet of one of the castle’s two suits of armor that guarded the front door. “I’m impressed.” Ezra took slow steps toward it. “How did they do that?”
I walked around the armor. The boys were just coming into their height, not quite as tall as Dad and Ezra. I tried to imagine one of the boys using a ladder or a tall piece of furniture and still managing to get close enough to the armor to balance the teapot on top. No way did their arms reach that high.
“How are we going to get it down?” I asked.
“Like this?” My brother reached out a finger and gave the armor a gentle nudge. The teapot tipped and fell. Ezra caught it easily, but the lid hit the floor with a metallic clang.
“This has to stop.” I picked it up and handed it to him. “My hairbrush is missing again too. After Dad got so mad when they unplugged all the appliances last week, I thought they’d stop.”
At the sound of heavy footsteps on the front porch, Ezra grinned, handed me the kettle, and opened the door to Coop. “Come in, my big friend.”
“Hey, Ez. I thought you were going into the village. Everything all right?” Coop noticed me then. His slow smile warmed me so much that I could have taken off my sweater. He finally gave his boots one more stomp before stepping into the room. “Is that a new teapot?”
“Another prank by the boys.” I nodded toward the armor and explained.
“It was balancing right on top?” Coop walked over to the base that held the armor and lifted his hand into the air. As tall as he stood, he couldn’t have reached it.
“It didn’t take much to bring it down.” Ezra took back the teapot and examined it like it would tell him what had happened.
I went to stand next to Coop, who pulled a face. He looked from me to Ezra to the suit of armor, finally settling on my brother with a wary expression.
“We didn’t do this,” Coop said, his voice soft but firm. “You just saw I can’t reach it. Can you imagine my father teetering on a ladder, trying to balance that thing up there?”
I’d been staring at the armor, and they both looked at me. “Isn’t it obvious?” I asked. “The boys couldn’t have done it either.”
“Not the ghost again,” Ezra said with a flat tone.
“You may not believe it’s a ghost,” Coop said, “but, if none of us are doing these things, there’s some weird stuff going on here. The window-washing pulley didn’t fail that first day. Pop told me last night. When it tilted, it was like someone lifted one end and not like the rope was slipping. It threw him off balance, and he fell.” Coop’s tone turned more intense. “He said he had grabbed the end of the board, but there’s no way he could hang on for long. That’s when one of the ropes wrapped itself around his foot and pinned him there.” He gave us both a meaningful look as he said, “It gave him something to rest his other foot on.”
“Oh, please.” Ezra didn’t roll his eyes, but it looked like it took an effort for him not to. “What. Are you saying we have a prankster ghost, but one who won’t go too far?”
“I’m just telling you what my father said.” Coop shrugged. “It’s not Eli and Joel pulling these pranks. They’ve both told me you all think they’re doing them, and it’s ticking them off. They said it’s not fair, them getting the blame without any of the fun.” He grinned and shook his head.
“I’ve seen a couple of weird things too,” I said. Ezra shot me a look, like I was only saying it because I liked Coop. “You’re such a punk sometimes, Ez. I’m not making this up.”
“All right. Fine.” My brother took a step back and raised his hands, as though in surrender, the teapot hanging from his thumb. He looked between Coop and me. “I’ll be open-minded, but I’ll be logical too. When did this start? After Miles died? Are you saying he’s haunting the place?”
