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Chapter 1:

The Portly Estate

     I knew not of the old estate, or the locked 

drawer, but I should soon come to the fate of 

knowing the murderous story of Elizabeth 

Portly. But let me start from the beginning. It 

was the middle of the afternoon, and we had 

just arrived at the Portly Estate. . . .

     "Seriously," said Celia, as she glanced at 

the towering estate.   "This is where we're 

moving? This place is like a billion years old, 

not to mention, it's probably possessed by 

every demon in the underworld." 

     Celia was a free-spirited fifteen year-old girl 

who had long curly dark brown hair and 

sapphire-blue eyes. She was very tall, 

compared to other girls, and loved to explore 

new places. 

     "It's not old, just dusty. Why don't we go 

inside and take a look around?" her mother, 

Ann, said uncomfortably. Ann was a forty-five 

year old, red- headed woman with green eyes 

and was always open to new ideas. 

     The inside of the estate was the mother-

lode of antiques and could have been a 

world-renowned dust-bunny farm. It had shelves and 

shelves of books and a huge chandelier in the foyer. 

Blood red curtains hug down from the tall ceiling, 

hiding the monstrously tall windows. 

     "Welcome!" said a man in faded jeans. He was 

holding a dirty trowel.

     "Who is he?" whispered a very surprised Celia to 

her mother. "He's the gardener," said Ann.

     "Oh, great! This place comes with its own creepy 

gardener!" Celia said, very annoyed.

     "Celia!" her mother said. "Don't be rude! He's a 

very sweet man, and he even has a son your age."

       "Oh, you mean Luke?" asked the gardener.   "He's 

outside. Why don't you go outside and talk while your 

mom and I discuss where everything is."

     "O.K. I guess so," said Celia. 

     She walked outside, marveling at the towering 

walls of vines and perfect rows of flowers.   "I guess 

this gardener knows how to do his job," said Celia.

     "I sure hope so," said a tall, brown-haired boy 

walking toward her.

     "I assume you're Luke," said Celia. "I just met your 

father. He wanted me to meet you."

     "Sounds like him. He's been trying to make 

me meet girls ever since I went to the school 

dance with my cousin. Hey, would you do me a 

favor and act like you're disgusted by me?" 

     "Sure," said Celia, very confused. "So 

what's it like living on an estate?"

     "It would be really cool if this place weren't 

shrouded in mystery," Luke said.

     "What do you mean?" asked Celia.

     "Haven't you heard the stories? They say 

someone was murdered here in the gardens, 

and the spirit haunts the walls of the estate. Weird 

things have happened here, like sometimes I hear a 

low note on the grand piano when nobody is playing, 

and mirrors crack with nobody to break them. I've 

been trying to figure the mystery out for years.   We 

better go inside before our parents start worrying 

about us, and if we don't go inside, we won't be able 

to find more clues," Luke said.

     "What do you mean, 'WE'?   I'm not--."

     Luke cut her off.   "See, you're already doing a 

good job with the disgusted thing."

Chapter 2:

The Computer

     "Oh, Celia, you're back.   Your new room is going 

to be the third on the left on the second floor," Ann 

said casually. "I believe it was the old room of 

Elizabeth Portly, the wife of Duke Portly."

     "Mom, did you know there were murders at this 

house?" 

     "There were certainly stories, but I don't believe 

them.   Why don't you go up to your room and 

unpack?" Ann said.

     Celia opened the light green door to her 

bedroom. It had a king-sized bed with lace 

drapes and a huge chest of drawers. A giant mirror 

hung over a good-sized fireplace that looked like it 

hadn't been used in a very long time. On the right 

side of the room, was a small wooden wardrobe. 

Celia started to put her stuff away. She used up all 

of the chest of drawers, except for one drawer at 

the left corner which was tightly locked. 

     After she put up the majority of her clothes and 

items, she took out her laptop and started 

skimming through her favorite web sites. All of 

a sudden the computer screen went blank.   Then five 

words appeared:

I DID NOT DO IT!

The sentence repeated over and over again on the 

screen in a heavy black font. 

     "O.K. I know I did NOT type that!" Celia exclaimed.

     When Celia pushed the backspace button, the 

words started blinking and getting bigger. Pretty soon 

the whole screen blacked out, and so did the whole 

house. Every light in the house went out, except the 

one lamp by the red curtains in the living room. 

     "Mom!" Celia cried.

     "It's O.K., Sweetie, just a power outage," 

said Ann, reassuringly.   "Go on up to bed. I'll 

be right next door."

Chapter 3:

The Letter

     The next morning Celia went in the garden and 

straight up to Luke.   "I want to help find the clues," 

she said, coming right to the point.

     "Really?" said Luke, very surprised.   "O.K., we'll 

need a four-foot ladder, a

nineteen-inch mirror, some pipe cleaners--."

     "Hey, what are you guys doing?" asked Ann, 

walking up to them. "If you're not busy, could you guys 

go around the house and dust? I need to go to the 

store."

    "Just say, 'Yes,'" Luke whispered to Celia. "It will be 

a great opportunity to look for clues."

         "O.K., sure," Celia said to her mom.

     "Great! Thanks, guys," said Ann. 

     The two kids went inside. "O.K., where are the 

dusters?" 

     "Right here," Luke answered, taking them out of 

the closet.   "I'm thinking we can start on the right side 

of the house and work our way back."

     "I'll start on the desk next to those curtains," said 

Celia. 

     "O.K. Be sure to look for clues," said Luke.

     While Celia dusted the desk, Luke started 

on the coffee table.

     "Um, Luke?" Celia said. "You might want to 

take a look at this."

     Celia pulled back the blood-red curtains, 

and behind them was a giant portrait of a 

young dark-haired woman who looked like she 

was about twenty-six years old. She had a 

gentle face, but her eyes looked like they were 

troubled. Under the portrait, a golden plaque 

stated, Elizabeth Portly 1869-1897.

Chapter 4:

1897

     "Whoa!" said Luke.   "Clue number one! 

Good job, New Girl!"

     "Um, this 'New Girl' has a name!" said 

Celia.

     "What's your name again?" asked Luke.

     "CELIA!" said Celia. 

     "Oh, yeah! But who cares about your 

name? I finally found it!"

     "What's 'it?'"

     "Oh, I haven't told you about that yet," said Luke. 

"One month ago I found a note in Mrs. Portly's room 

that said 'back of me behind the red C'. I had figured 

out that 'me' probably meant a drawing or a portrait of 

her, and 'back' probably meant the back of it, so I 

think we should turn this around and look for a note or 

something," said Luke.

     They turned the portrait around and found a small 

white envelope with a golden seal tied to the back of it 

with a string. Inside the envelope was a small key and 

a piece of paper. The paper was a note. The

note said the following:

         My dearest sister Eleanor,

                I have become aware that

          Duke is seeing another. I felt 

          it was my place to talk with him 

          about it. That night was the first 

          of many fights that started after. 

          I fear he is going to hurt me. Help!

          FELT REWARD IN MY MOOR

      "I wonder what 'FELT REWARD IN MY MOOR' 

means?" Luke asked.

     "Maybe it's some kind of a code?" asked 

Celia.

     "It's backwards!" said Luke. "Drawer in my 

room! But what is 'felt'?"

     "It's an anagram," said Celia. "F-E-L-T. 

Left. It's left!"

     "Left drawer in my room!" said Luke. "Your 

room--it used to be hers!"

     They rushed up the stairs and ran into the 

room. Celia and Luke started shuffling through 

all the drawers on the left side of the chest.

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