Read Online The Lost Treasure of Tuckernuck by Emily Fairlie - Free Book Online

hadn’t, as a student, but she’d met Laurie plenty of times at Clucker reunions, so it’s not like Laurie was an alien creature.
    â€œIt’s about the school. Questions. About the school.” Bud apparently was in even worse shape than Laurie. He was not used to all that running.
    â€œAbout Mrs. Reynolds? We want to ask … Mrs. Reynolds?” Laurie looked pleadingly at Miss Lucille.
    Miss Lucille stopped clutching her chest, and the lightbulb seemed to go off over her head. Then her eyes teared up and she hurried over to Laurie, putting her arm around her and leading her gently to one of the reading tables.
    â€œOh, you poor dear,” she clucked. “You poor, poor dear.”
    She sat Laurie down at the table and stared at her, patting her hand consolingly. “I’m so sorry to tell you this dear. But Mrs. Reynolds? I don’t quite know how to say this. She’s passed on.”
    Laurie tried her best to keep her face blank and neutral and not shoot Bud the “holy cow” look that she was dying to give. Because, holy cow.
    Laurie nodded sadly. “Yes. I heard. It’s very sad.”
    Miss Lucille stopped patting long enough to fish a handkerchief out of her sleeve and dab her eyes. “Oh, yes, it is. Lovely woman, she was. So sweet to me when I was your age. Don’t make them like Lucinda Reynolds anymore. That’s the truth.”
    Laurie nodded solemnly. She didn’t know how she was going to bring up a cat now. It felt sacrilegious almost.
    Bud didn’t seem to have any problems, though. He sidled up to the table, nodded sadly, and then sat down.
    â€œSo did she have a cat?”
    â€œWhat?” Miss Lucille looked shocked.
    â€œWe heard she had a cat.”
    Real slick, Bud. Laurie couldn’t help but roll her eyes.
    â€œWe were hoping you could tell us about her cat.” Laurie gave Miss Lucille a significant look.
    Miss Lucille stopped dabbing for a moment and then teared up even worse. Dropping the handkerchief, she grabbed Laurie’s hand.
    â€œOh, you poor dear.” She said. “Oh, you poor, poor dear. I don’t know how to say this.”
    â€œPassed on?” Bud cut in. He wasn’t going to go through the whole routine again.
    â€œYes, it was very sad. That Homer was quite a cat. Don’t make them like her anymore, no they don’t.”
    â€œHomer?” Laurie’s ears pricked up. “His name was Homer?”
    â€œThat’s right.” Miss Laurie leaned in and whispered conspiratorially. “But Homer was a she. Can you imagine? A boy’s name for a girl cat.” Miss Lucille went at it with the handkerchief again. Laurie got the idea she hadn’t enjoyed herself so much in years. “Beautiful little calico. Used to roam the halls. Lucinda Reynolds was the head of the English department, you know, so she named her after the poet.”
    â€œWhen did Homer die? Is she buried anywhere around here?” Bud leaned forward, ignoring the daggers that Laurie was shooting at him. “Just checking all the angles, okay?” he muttered under his breath.
    â€œWe want to pay our respects,” Laurie explained. The last thing they needed was for Miss Lucille to think they were pervy grave robbers or something.
    â€œOh, I don’t know, dear. She was a cat, you know. I’m not sure what happened to her.”
    â€œOh.” Laurie was itching to get away, but Miss Lucille had her hand in a vise grip. She had some muscles for an old lady.
    Laurie gave Bud what she hoped was a significant look. He nodded his head slightly. He’d had a lightbulb moment too. That clue was all about Mrs. Reynolds’s real life actual cat. And if it roamed the halls, everybody would’ve known it.
    â€œThose were the days.” Miss Lucille sighed, waving her handkerchief like she was the belle of the ball. “They were so proud of that cat. And that bust they had made.