Kelsey the Spy Read Online Free Page A

we’re interested in your house,” I finish.
    â€œHappy to oblige,” Reggie says cheerfully. “Go on.”
    I zip open my spy pack and take out a notebook, a pen, and a granola bar. “Here, this should help your hunger.” I offer him the granola bar. “I hope you like peanut-butter caramel.”
    â€œMy new favorite food,” he says, ripping off the wrapping.
    â€œYour house is amazing—like a suburban castle.” I flip open the notebook official-like. “When was it built?”
    â€œLet me think …” He gulps down half of the granola bar in one bite. “1957.”
    I jot this down in my notebook. “How long have you lived here?”
    â€œTen years,” Reggie says.
    Drats. That’s not long enough to know about our photo. I’m ready to give up, but Becca steps forward.
    â€œDo you know who lived here before you?” she asks.
    â€œI certainly do.” Reggie nods. “My granddad built this house. He’s gone now, and Grandmum lives in Arizona. You’d do better to interview her. I don’t know much about architecture.”
    â€œDo you know about this?” Leo reaches into his pocket and pulls out the boy-with-tortoise photograph.
    â€œBlimey, it’s Granddad. My sister’s youngest boy is the spitting image of him.” Reggie pushes back his hair as he leans in for a closer look. “Where in the world did you get this?”
    â€œInside a clock,” Leo says. “It slipped out when the clock chimed.”
    Reggie gasps. “Not a grandfather clock?”
    â€œHow did you know?” Leo’s blond brows arch like question marks.
    â€œI haven’t seen the clock since I was a child, but I’ve always wondered what happened to it. I don’t know if I’m more astonished that you found this photo or that you got Grandfather’s blasted clock to work properly.”
    â€œIt was a challenge,” Leo admits. “The clock was dismantled and had more broken parts than working ones.”
    â€œBut Leo put it back together.” Becca gestures proudly at Leo and he blushes. “We found it in an old shack on my property. Any idea how it got there?”
    â€œI do indeed,” Reggie surprises me by saying. “Regretfully, I can’t tell you because it’s a dusty skeleton in my family closet, and the truth would hurt people I love.”
    â€œKeeping secrets isn’t easy,” I say, my spy pack heavy on my shoulders.
    â€œBut won’t you tell us, please?” Becca asks in a cajoling voice. “Leo worked so hard to fix the clock, and we’re dying of curiosity. We won’t tell anyone.”
    â€œThe margin of risk is slim since we don’t know your family,” Leo adds.
    â€œWe’ll cross our hearts and promise to keep your secret.” I make a solemn cross gesture over my heart. “We just want to know how the grandfather clock ended up in an old shack.”
    â€œAnd why the boy—your grandfather—was riding a turtle,” Becca says.
    â€œNot a turtle,” Mr. Know-It-All Leo corrects. “An Aldabra tortoise.”
    â€œA tortoise is still a turtle,” Becca argues.
    â€œYou’re both right.” Reggie nods approvingly. “Contrary to popular belief, tortoises are turtles rather than a separate group. The tortoise in this photo is an Aldabrachelys gigantea —commonly known as an Aldabra.”
    â€œI’ve only seen them in zoos.” Becca’s voice rises with her passion for animals. “My mom runs Wild Oaks Sanctuary, and we’ve had box turtles but never a giant tortoise.”
    â€œRenee Morales is your mother?” Reggie asks, surprised.
    â€œYou know Mom?” Becca’s ponytail dangles over her shoulder as she leans forward.
    â€œI saw her in a TV interview about Wild Oaks Sanctuary and called for information on becoming a volunteer. She set up an