Jessie found Benny walking down the sidewalk. There was a scrape on his knee and a trickle of blood running down his leg.
“Benny!” she cried, “Where have you been? We were so worried. What happened to your leg?”
Just then, Henry and Violet came running up to them.
Jessie settled Benny on a soft patch of grass under a tree. Violet ran to borrow the first-aid kit from Mrs. Skylar.
“Are you okay?” Henry asked.
Benny nodded bravely. He was almost as breathless as Violet when she returned with the first-aid kit.
Jessie cleaned the blood from his knee and squirted a bit of antiseptic on his cut. She covered it up with a bandage.
“I was running to the bake-sale table,” Benny said. “I guess I wasn’t watching where I was going. I crashed smack into a man and I fell to the ground.”
“Is that how you hurt your knee?” Violet asked.
Benny nodded. “The man leaned down to help me up. I was so surprised. It was Mr. Hudson!”
“Mr. Hudson?” Henry said. “But he’s away on his business trip. Are you sure it was him?”
Benny scratched his head. “Now I’m not so sure. I thought so at first. I called him Mr. Hudson when I apologized. When I said that name, he looked upset. He turned and left really fast.”
“But where have you been?” asked Jessie. “We looked all over for you.”
“I followed him,” Benny said.
“Benny! You shouldn’t have done that. You should have stayed here by the library,” Jessie said.
“I know. I’m sorry, Jessie. But the man dropped something. I tried to catch up with him so I could give it back. I didn’t go far.”
“Did you catch him?” asked Violet.
“No. He had an old blue bike down the street behind a tree. He rode away.”
“What did he drop?” asked Henry.
Benny held out his hand. “This,” he said.
Henry took the small plastic bottle from his brother. It was filled with a red liquid.
“What do you think it could be?” Jessie asked.
“I don’t know,” said Henry.
“I do,” said Violet, putting her hand to her mouth. “It looks like … like … blood!”
The Alden children stared at each other for a few seconds. “I know it looks like blood,” Henry said. “But it is probably something else. It could be ink.”
“Or medicine,” Jessie added. “Remember your cough syrup from last winter, Violet? It was red.”
“I suppose that’s true,” Violet said. “But that is an odd bottle for cough medicine.”
Henry put the bottle in his pocket. I’ll hold onto it in case we see the man again.”
“Let’s go to the diner,” Jessie said. “I think we could all use a cool drink and some time to think.”
“And some food!” Benny added.
It was lunch time, and the diner was very crowded. Nancy, a thin waitress with short blond hair, showed the Aldens to a booth in the back.
“How’s this kids?” she asked.
“It’s perfect. Thank you,” said Jessie.
After they had placed their order, Jessie pulled out her notebook and a pencil. When facing a mystery, the Aldens often found that writing all the facts and clues on paper helped them to see what was going on.
Jessie wrote “Vampire Legend” at the top of the page. “What do we know about the vampire legend?” she asked.
Henry took a long drink of his lemonade. “People around Greenfield used to tell stories about a vampire. We know that vampires are not real, so the people must have done it for fun or to scare each other.”
“And Mr. Hudson heard those stories when he was growing up. He turned them into a book,” Violet added.
“Then Mr. Hudson saw a vampire in the cemetery behind his house.” Benny leaned across the table, his eyes wide.
“No, Benny. He saw something that concerned him. He didn’t actually see a vampire,” Henry said.
“Then what did he see?” asked Benny.
“We’re not sure,” Henry said.
Nancy stopped at the table with an armful of plates. “Here you go, kids,” she said, setting down the plates of burgers and sandwiches.
Violet chewed thoughtfully on her grilled cheese. “One thing we do know,” she said. “Mr. Hudson is trying to sell his house, but strange things are happening there that keep buyers away.”
Jessie made a list. “There was the ‘vampire’ in the cemetery,” she said. “And the broken flowerpots on the front porch.”
“And someone keeps stealing the ‘For Sale’ sign.” Violet finished her sandwich and placed her napkin on her plate.
“But why would anyone care if Mr. Hudson sold his house?” asked Benny.
“Mrs. Fairfax does not want him to move,” Jessie said.
“That’s true,” Henry replied. “Do you think she could be the one behind all the strange happenings?”
Benny suddenly sat up very straight. “It’s him,” he whispered. “The man from the library.”
“Where?” asked Henry who was across the table from Benny and facing the opposite direction.
“He’s at the other end of the diner, sitting at the counter. I could give him back his bottle of blood … I mean, red stuff.” Benny slid out of the booth. “Hurry, Henry. Give it to me. He’s just about to leave.”
Henry reached into his pocket, but it was too late. The man quickly jumped off his stool, his head lowered into his shirt, and darted out of the diner.
A few minutes later, Nancy stopped at the table to clear the plates. “Would you like to order dessert?” she asked.
“No, thank you,” Jessie answered. “Not today.”
“Excuse me,” Henry asked. “Did you happen to wait on the man who was at the end of the counter? The one who left a few minutes ago?”
Nancy looked toward the empty stool. “Yes, I did,” she answered. “Why do you want to know?”
“We have something of his,” Henry said. “He dropped it earlier today and we wanted to give it back. Do you know where we can find him?”
“No,” Nancy replied. “I’m sorry. I never saw him before. But it’s odd that you say that. I have something for him too. He left the diner so quickly that he forgot to take his book with him.”
“His book?” asked Violet.
“Yes.” Nancy reached into the deep pocket of her apron. “It’s a library book. He left it on the counter beside his plate.”
She set the book on the table.
Jessie gasped. “The Legend of the Vampire!”
Benny pulled the book toward him and stared down at the blood red fangs of the man on the cover. “We could take it back to the library for you,” he offered.
“Why, thanks,” said Nancy. “I appreciate that. It will save me a trip. If the man comes back, I’ll tell him that his book is at the library. Have a good day, kids.”
When Nancy had left, Benny leaned across the table. “It’s not his book. It’s mine!”
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