The Secret in the Tree House

By Brenda Joyce Parrish

Kari McKenzie and her family have sold their home and have moved a thousand miles away, to live on Grandpa Rob’s farm with his elderly sister, Lizzy. During the next few weeks, Kari learns things about her family that she had not known, and learns first-hand how keeping secrets from family members can affect the lives of many people, sometimes in unforgivable ways.
While exploring her new surroundings, Kari helps in finding new evidence that may solve a seventy-five-year-old mystery and return a missing baby to its home.

• Language: English
• Publisher: LifeRich Publishing
• Release date: Nov 15, 2018
• ISBN: 9781489719591

Brenda Joyce Parrish

Brenda Joyce Parrish lives in Albuquerque, New Mexico. She has always enjoyed creative writing, and published her first poem in her early ‘teens. Now in her sixties, Miss Parrish was encouraged to publish more of her work after her long-time friend, Norma Gail Holtman, wrote and published her novel: Land of My Dreams. “Jealousy is a powerful motivator,” she laughs. The Secret in the Tree House is Miss Parrish’s first book.

Book preview

CHAPTER 1

MAY 20, 1925

SOMETHING WAS COMING UP THE ROAD TOWARDS THE FARM. It must be coming fast, thought Lizzy, to stir up that much dust. She heard the puttering of the motor about the same time as the shiny Cadillac came into view, but if you had asked Lizzy—as many people were to do in the days that followed—what she remembered about that automobile, all you would learn was that it was black. And the people in it? Tall and pink.

The automobile slowed and then stopped. As the driver’s side door opened and the man stepped out, it seemed to Lizzy that he was growing right before her eyes. When he had finally finished standing, Lizzy thought he was surely the tallest man she had ever seen. He turned to look right at her, with an expression that was anything but kind, and called out, Do you know how far away we are from Route F?

Lizzy shook her head no.

Is there someone here you could ask?

Lizzy nodded. She turned to go get Mama but had to stop and look back again. The passenger door was opening now, and a woman with a pink dress and matching pink hat stepped out. She was not nearly as tall as the man, but her dress was sleek and slimming, which made her look tall—and pink. The woman smoothed her skirt with one hand and took off her hat with the other, letting her hair fall free and blow in the breeze.

Ahh, the woman sighed. That feels wonderful. She stood there with her eyes closed, facing the cool summer wind, and Lizzy thought she looked beautiful.

Little girl! boomed the man’s gravelly voice, impatiently. Please. We’re in a hurry.

Lizzy half skipped and half ran up the lawn towards the farmhouse. When she had almost reached the porch, she began calling out, Mama! Mama! There’s some people that want you. Just outside of the screen door, Lizzy stopped to catch her breath and then she repeated the announcement through the screen. Mama! The people want you.

Mama gave her stew a quick stir and then propped the wooden spoon across the rim of the kettle. People? she wondered aloud. Wiping her hands on her apron, she crossed the room and pushed open the screen door. The sight of the automobile sitting in the road was a surprise, partially because she had not heard it (Mama thought that automobiles made too much noise, and she said so every time she heard one) and partially because of the finely dressed couple that had come with it. City folk, smirked Mama, inwardly, but she was polite, nevertheless.

Help you? she asked loudly.

The woman was already reentering the automobile, but the man was still standing, with an irritated stance and an unkind expression.

Yes, ma’am, the tall man called back. How far away are we from the highway? I was advised to take Route F to the junction, but none of these little roads have markers.

Mama took a step forward on the porch, letting the screen door close behind her. Go ahead on up, the way you’re headed, she instructed, ’till you get past the schoolhouse. Next road, go right. That’s F. It will take you out to the highway. Mama waited, ready to repeat herself if necessary, but the man waved his arm as if to say Thanks, folded himself back into the driver’s seat, and drove up the road with his lady-in-pink beside him.

Mama stood looking at the road even after there was no longer anything to see, and Lizzy saw on Mama’s face the same expression that her oldest sister, Alice, often had when she was thinking about her someday elegant wedding and all of the other someday things on Alice’s list. Wistfulness, perhaps? Lizzy was only four (though almost five), too young to have a word for what she saw on Mama’s face. All she knew was that, for a fleeting second, Mama had looked just like Alice.

Just as quickly, Mama was Mama again. Lizzy, bring that baby up here. Then run and get a dry diaper from the line.

Lizzy ran back to the baby buggy as Mama came down the porch steps, and—knowing that Mama was watching—pushed it carefully across the lawn.

Pushing kittens in the buggy was more fun, Lizzy thought. When she pushed the kittens, she would use all her strength and energy to push as fast as she could push, making the wheels bump the buggy up and down as they rolled over rocks or raised tree roots. The kittens would lay low and dig their claws into the blankets until a good-sized bump ended the ride. Very often, when that happened, the buggy would tip over, giving the terrorized kittens a chance to escape. They would leap out and streak across the yard, all in different directions, so quickly that even the fastest dog could not hope to catch one. Afterwards, Lizzy would sit on the porch steps and wait. One by one, the kittens would come to rub themselves against Lizzy’s legs, wanting to be picked up and petted. When enough had gathered, Lizzy would reload the buggy, and the fun would begin all over again.

There were no kittens in the buggy today, though, nor were they anywhere in sight. No doubt they had found a cool place—under the porch or down by the barn—to curl up for a nap, having spent the morning romping in the warm sun. Although Lizzy would never hint to Mama that she, herself, might be ready for a nap, she was rather relieved to see that Mama was coming across the lawn to help her with the buggy.

My goodness, Mama said with a smile as she walked toward Lizzy. How in the world did you get so dirty so quickly? You go on inside and get washed up. I’ll tend to Anna. Just as Mama came to the buggy and reached in to pick up the baby, she froze and her face went white.

Where is she? Mama shrieked. Lizzy! Where is Anna?

Speechless, Lizzy let herself be shaken until Mama realized what she was doing and pulled Lizzy close in a smothering hug. Suddenly, Mama stood up and faced the road. Her voice was then not more than a whisper. Oh, my God. They took her.

Mama turned and ran back to the house, leaving Lizzy standing by the empty buggy. Seconds later, Lizzy could hear Mama’s voice screaming into the mouthpiece of the wall phone. They’ve taken my baby! They’ve taken my baby!

Trembling, Lizzy sat down on a porch step and began to cry. Anna, her little baby sister, was gone.

CHAPTER 2

JUNE 15, 2000

SLUG BUG! YELLED SIX-YEAR-OLD ROBBIE MCKENZIE AS HE quickly punched his older brother’s shoulder.

Slug bug, echoed Becky, giggling.

"I’ll slug bug you," Brett growled. He reached over the back of the car seat with his hand clenched in a fist, and Becky squealed as Robbie leaned back to avoid being hit.

Cut it out, Kari complained. Mom, make them stop. She leaned against the car door and raised her book as if it could shield her from her siblings.

M-o-m, make them s-t-o-p, drawled Brett, mimicking her. Is that all you know how to say? No one was bothering you.

Kari glared at him. "You have all been bothering me, ever since we left home," she said.

Brett shrugged. You’ll live.

Yeah, Robbie hollered. You’ll live!

Stop yelling! Kari shut her book and squirmed around, trying to find a more comfortable position to sit. The seat belt limited her choices, and she sighed loudly, expressing an unspoken complaint. Her mother looked back at her from the front seat and smiled. They’re just restless, honey. Ignore them.

Ignore them? Fat chance. When Becky and Robbie were not wrestling around in the back of the station wagon, they were hanging over the back of the seat, breathing down her neck or bumping her head with their elbows.

At the beginning of their trip, early yesterday morning, they had started out with Robbie in the front seat between his mother and dad, and Becky rode in the back seat between Kari and Brett. At the very first rest stop they came to, their father had insisted on changing the seating arrangement because Robbie, he said, distracted him from his driving. Robbie had, in fact, distracted everyone from everything. He had been one little ball of energy. Having him ride in the back seat with Brett and Kari did not settle him down. If anything, he was worse. At one point, Mr. McKenzie stopped the car on the side of the road, pulled Robbie out, and spanked his bottom right there by the highway where all the other travelers could see. A few tears and a few miles later, Robbie seemed to have forgotten the punishment and was back to his old self. Both Brett and Kari were about to clobber him themselves when their father had an idea. He decided to put the two younger children in the back of the station wagon, where they would have room to stretch out and color in their coloring books—or, perhaps, take naps.

It’s like throwing an ice cube at a forest fire, he commented to his wife after the umpteenth time he had called out, You kids settle down! to the two little wrestling imps. If you happen to spot a post office, let’s send them on ahead, parcel post.

After the long day on the road, they were all thankful when they finally stopped at a hotel in Kansas to spend the night. It was the first hotel that the McKenzie children had ever been to, and they thought that it was wonderful. A swimming pool was only a few steps away, and coin machines with soda pop and snacks sat in the hallway. Little soaps and shampoo bottles awaited them in the bathroom, and the room even had cable TV and a menu by the telephone that offered room service. Just think! They could have their meals brought right to them and later have the dishes washed by someone else! And maids came every day to clean the room. What a place!

Instead of going all the way to the Missouri farm, why didn’t they just live here at the hotel in Kansas, Becky had asked. They could send for Aunt Lizzy, if they had to, but the hotel would be a wonderful place to live. No one could argue the fact, especially while enjoying the coolness of the air-conditioned room.

"I’ll have