 
## Chapter 1

Until ten o'clock, it will be a typical summer day. But at ten o'clock, Amy Jo and Becky will find Mrs. Martin lying unconscious in the hallway and discover thirty thousand dollars hidden behind a secret door in her library.

Amy Jo's tack box resembled the aftermath of a cyclone, so finding anything in there was usually a low point in the day. When her hand grazed something bristly, she grabbed it and brushed out the tangles in Ginger's mane and tail. "What time are we supposed to be at Mrs. Martin's house?"

Becky leaned against the barn door, holding Oreo's reins with one hand, checking her nails with the other. "Ten," she said pointedly. "I'm sure she won't mind if we're late."

Amy Jo recommenced shuffling. "My hoof pick was here yesterday."

"Ahem. You borrowed mine."

"Well, the day before then!"

With only minutes to spare, the girls mounted their ponies, then shouted their good-byes to Becky's parents sipping coffee on the porch across the gravel driveway. They nudged Ginger and Oreo down the lane, picking up a trot when they reached Amy Jo and her mother's house at the halfway point. At Quarry Road they turned right and rode single file until they reached Mrs. Martin's winding driveway. They rounded the last curve, where Mrs. Martin's roomy house and property had stood for three generations.

Amy Jo frowned. "The front door's closed."

"She probably forgot to open it."

"She never forgets." Amy Jo pressed Ginger forward to the hitching rail that served the elderly woman when she'd ridden as a child. Sliding to the ground, she hurried up the front steps and tried the doorknob. It was locked. She rang the doorbell then pounded on the door.

Becky methodically loosened girths, ran up stirrups, and tethered lead ropes to the post. "Why are you pounding? Give Mrs. Martin a minute to get here."

"Something's happened."

"You always think the worst."

Amy Jo cupped her hands around her eyes and looked through the side window of the door. "Beck! She's lying on the floor!" Just beyond the hitching post, she spotted a window that was slightly ajar. "Over there!"

The girls hoisted themselves over the window sill, shot across the room into the hallway, then knelt on either side of Mrs. Martin.

Amy Jo swallowed hard. "You don't think she's. . ."

Becky leaned close and listened. "She's still breathing but she's cold. I'll get some blankets." She grabbed two afghans from the morning room and they tucked the warmth around her body.

"The floor's hard," Amy Jo said, her eyes racing over the delicate bones of her friend. "Should we put a pillow under her head?"

"I don't think we should move her head."

Amy Jo spotted the phone lying on the floor. "I wonder who she was trying to call." She glanced at Becky. "Maybe us."

"Maybe."

"We need an ambulance." Amy Jo gulped deep steadying breaths until the voice of the emergency operator came on the line. "This is Amy Jo Ryan. We're at Edith Martin's house on West Main Street. She's unconscious." She listened for several seconds. "Yes, she's breathing." Sighing deeply, she replied, "I don't know. We just got here." She listened again. "I'm twelve." She looked at Becky. "No, my friend Becky Allison is here. She's twelve, too." Amy Jo drew her brows together as she stared at Mrs. Martin. "All right, thanks."

"How long until they get here?" Becky said.

"Five minutes."

Mrs. Martin's eyes fluttered open. The left side of her mouth drooped as she struggled to speak. "I was looking," she said in a thin, slurred voice.

Becky slipped her fingers around her wrinkled hand. "Mrs. Martin, what happened?"

Mrs. Martin moved her lips, but only the right side of her mouth formed words. "I was looking, but I couldn't find them."

"Looking for what?" Amy Jo positioned herself inside her line of vision. "Looking for what?"

Mrs. Martin searched Amy Jo's face. "I couldn't find the rest of them, and. . ." Her voice trailed off as her eyes drifted back to the ceiling. Her face contorted as she struggled to think.

"I called the ambulance. They'll be here any minute," Amy Jo said.

Mrs. Martin's eyes widened and her breathing was labored. "My purse."

The girls looked at each other, then Becky framed her face above Mrs. Martin's head. "Where is it?"

Mrs. Martin struggled to remember. "Bedroom. . .upstairs."

Amy Jo took the steps two at a time. Within seconds she returned, carrying a large black purse. "Do you want to take it with you to the hospital?"

Mrs. Martin nodded. "I want." She swallowed and started again. "Take the money."

The girls made eye contact again before Amy Jo angled her face above Mrs. Martin's. "Am I supposed to take the money out of your purse? Is that it?"

Mrs. Martin nodded again.

Amy Jo hesitated before taking out the billfold. Her lips moved silently as she counted through the ten-dollar bills. "One hundred dollars. Is that how much you thought you had?"

Mrs. Martin's eyes quivered. "Yes. Take it."

"Should we keep the money until you get home again?" Becky said.

"Yes," Mrs. Martin whispered then closed her eyes.

Amy Jo folded the money and stuffed it into her jeans pocket. "We'll take care of it while you're gone."

The ambulance squealed around the corner and stopped in front of the house.

"The ponies," said Amy Jo. She ran down the steps to calm Ginger and Oreo with a soothing hand and a quiet voice.

The two emergency medical technicians came into the house carrying a stretcher and a small bag. They edged Becky aside and quickly examined Mrs. Martin, then lifted her small body onto the stretcher and prepared to take her to the ambulance. The girls hovered uneasily on either side until one of the men gently moved them to the side. "Sorry, girls, we've got to hurry now."

The girls trailed down the steps and watched the men slide the stretcher inside the back of the ambulance.

"Don't worry, we'll lock up the house and take care of everything until you get back," Amy Jo said.

One of the men jumped inside the back of the ambulance and closed one of the doors.

Before the other door closed, Becky added reassuringly, "We'll help you find whatever you lost after you get home."

As the engine roared to life, the girls rushed to the hitching post. The whites of the mares' eyes were visible as they lifted their heads high. They strained against their lead lines and their hoofs scattered more gravel into the grass. With soothing voices, the girls calmed Ginger and Oreo. Within seconds, the whirring lights and unsettling noise had left.

Ginger snorted one last time, then placed her muzzle on top of Amy Jo's shoulder, nuzzling the girl's cheek. Amy Jo slipped her arm around her pony's neck and pressed her lips inward. She looked over at Becky, who was leaning into Oreo, slowly stroking the pony's side.

## Chapter 2

Amy Jo gave Ginger a final pat. "Let's lock up the house before we leave."

The girls hovered in the area where Mrs. Martin fell, straightening the phone table and folding the afghans.

Finally, Becky glanced to the left. "I'll check everything on this side."

Amy Jo walked past the stairway toward the back of the hallway. "I'll start with the kitchen." For a moment, her eyes lingered on the freshly baked scones and the teapot, cups and saucers on a silver tray. Pressing forward, she slipped the scones inside a baggie and placed them in the freezer, then returned everything else to the cupboard.

After locking the windows, Becky walked into the library and stared at books scattered in heaps all over the floor. "Amy Jo! Come here!"

Within seconds, Amy Jo stood beside her. Her eyes traveled the length of the room, finally resting on a small piece of wood jutting from the mantle over the fireplace. When she attempted to press it back into place, she overshot the correct position, and a tiny "click" sounded from the side of the fireplace as a small door opened.

Becky peered over Amy Jo's shoulder into the dark interior. "It's a little safe like you see in the movies."

Slowly, Amy Jo reached inside. Her fingers touched a rectangular metal box resting in the shadow. "It's heavy." Taking both hands, she hauled it out, staggered over the books, and eased it onto the desk.

The girls stared at the box, then lifted questioning eyes.

Amy Jo opened the lid and the girls leaned forward. For fifteen seconds, there was absolute silence in the room.

"I wonder how much is in there," Becky said.

Amy Jo gathered bundles of cash, then hauled out the gold coins. She took part of the box's contents and shoved it across the desk toward Becky. "You count that stack, and I'll count mine."

Using pens and papers, they wrote down amounts in groups of thousands. They counted and recounted until they felt sure they had the correct amount.

"I've got sixteen thousand, four hundred dollars," Amy Jo said.

"All together that makes thirty thousand dollars." Becky's eyebrows shot up. "Thirty thousand dollars!"

Amy Jo's eyes narrowed as she focused on the glass doors leading to the terrace. "Make sure the doors are locked while I put the money back into the box."

Becky scanned the entire lawn beyond the terrace. After checking the lock on all three doors, she drew the curtains closed.

After returning the money box to the hiding place, Amy Jo said, "Let's try something. You straighten that piece of molding until it's level and I'll close the door."

Becky used both hands to press the wood molding even with its surroundings. "You'd never know it was there. We've been in this room dozens of times and never knew it was here."

"Can't see the tiny door either. It blends in with the molding. Are there other hiding places like this?" Amy Jo said. "Can't get into that now."

"Right. Let's put the books back, then head out."

"I wonder if she tore the books off the shelves before she opened the hidden door or afterward," Amy Jo said.

"What difference does that make?"

"It's obvious she was looking for something. So, if the money box was all she was looking for, she'd stop searching right after she opened it, right?"

"Sure, she'd stop searching if that was all she wanted."

"But if she opened the safe first, then pulled the books off the shelves, that means she was searching for something else."

Becky stopped stacking books on the shelf. "I hadn't thought of it that way. Why would she have another hiding place?"

"Don't know, and I could be wrong. Mrs. Martin's totally confused right now, and maybe this mess is just part of the confusion."

"Yeah, well, I'm totally confused myself."

After the room was returned to order, Amy Jo leaned against the doorway. "I wonder why she has that much money hidden in the house."

"I know. I mean, what if there was a fire?"

"Well, the box was metal; maybe it's fireproof."

"Maybe."

Amy Jo sighed. "It makes you wonder though, doesn't it?"

"Makes you wonder what?"

"Mrs. Martin said she couldn't find them, so there must be more hiding places than the one we just found."

"If there are more hiding places then there must be more money," Becky said.

"Probably, but why is she hiding money in her house?"

"The bank is only half a mile away."

Amy Jo raised her eyebrows. "Maybe she doesn't like banks."

After locking the front door, Amy Jo looked through the side window at the hallway until Becky's nudge reminded her it was time to leave.

Ginger and Oreo neighed softly as the girls approached. Each girl spoke to her pony in quiet, reassuring tones, then tightened the girths and pulled down the stirrups. Once in the saddle, the girls guided the mares down the driveway.

Becky looked at her watch. "It's too early for ice cream, but we can stop at The Coffee Bean and have hot chocolate and a cranberry muffin."

"Since when is it too early for ice cream?"

"Ice cream at eleven o'clock in the morning? I think not," Becky said, then added before Amy Jo could respond, "We'll go back around twoish for ice cream."

"Twoish is a time?"

"Yes, twoish is somewhere between one-thirty and two-thirty, making it twoish."

Amy Jo reached forward to straighten Ginger's mane. "OK, so it's hot chocolate and a cranberry muffin now and ice cream around twoish."

Halfway through Bedford, they turned left onto Center Street, reining in at the paddock Hank, owner of The Coffee Bean, had built behind his store for all the horse people who came into town. They usually stopped in his shop for coffee or ice cream, so everybody won.

Amy Jo reached forward in her saddle and unlatched the paddock gate, then shoved it open with her foot. After untacking their ponies, the girls leaned the saddles against a tree outside the paddock and hung the bridles on a low-hanging branch.

Ginger and Oreo waited for their customary hug and kiss, then shook their heads as they ambled off to the shadiest spot of the paddock. They stood head to tail, swatting flies off each others' backs.

The girls rarely came to The Coffee Bean before twoish, so they weren't prepared for the crowd.

Becky scowled when she saw their counter stools were occupied. "We'll have to sit somewhere else."

Chief Higgins hailed them from his booth. His face was drawn and his brow furrowed. "Hey, girls! You can sit down here. I'm leaving in a minute."

They grinned broadly until they saw Myrtle Decker sitting across the table from him. Clearly, the chief had gotten there first and been cornered. To sit with the chief, the girls would have to endure the town's award-winning busybody.

Mrs. Decker's expression darkened as the girls slid into the booth. "We were having a private conversation. At least, I thought it was private."

The chief leaned back and folded his arms. "As far as I'm concerned we're done."

"Now, Howard," Mrs. Decker screeched, but stopped when Hank approached with an order pad and pencil.

Hank's dark skin crinkled at the corners of his eyes as he observed the girls' expressions. "You're early today."

Amy Jo looked at her friend accusingly. "Beck thought it would be a good idea to come here for hot chocolate and a cranberry muffin."

Becky ignored the remark. "Do you have cranberry muffins left, Hank?"

"Sure do."

"Then we'd both like one, please."

Amy Jo leaned forward and stared at Hank's order pad. "And some hot chocolate, too."

"Two hot chocolates and two cranberry muffins coming up." Hank winked at the girls before rushing to refill coffee cups.

The plastic daisies on Mrs. Decker's hat bobbed furiously and her bosom heaved in indignation. "I don't know why you think it's such a big secret, Howard. The whole town knows Edith Martin has a boatload of money stashed in that house of hers. Why, she must have millions."

## Chapter 3

Amy Jo's head shot up. She exchanged a quick look with Becky, then focused on Mrs. Decker.

"Edith is just like her father, bless his departed soul." Mrs. Decker paused to glance heavenward. "Hides it in every nook and cranny—and there are a lot of them in that big old house of hers." She stopped long enough to stuff in another bite of the croissant, then washed it down with black coffee. "All that money and not a single soul on this here earth to leave it to," she said wishfully as the crème from the croissant trickled down her chin.

Chief Higgins stifled a sigh. "This is nothing but gossip without a shred of solid evidence. In any case, Edith Martin is entitled to keep her money wherever she pleases." He looked his adversary directly in the eye. "And nobody has any business telling her what to do with it."

Mrs. Decker pestered on. "Now you just tell me this, Howard. Who is going to stand guard over that house now that she's stuck in the hospital? And who's going to call the police if somebody tries to break in? Did you ever think of that?" She jabbed her forefinger in the chief's direction, while her tired plastic daisies collided at the top of her hat. "Any decent, law-abiding citizen would plunk that kind of cash in a bank, and that's all there is to it."

Amy Jo's eyes widened. "How did you know Mrs. Martin was in the hospital?"

Without a trace of guilt, Mrs. Decker explained, "When I saw the ambulance flying through town, I called my neighbor. She's the dispatcher on duty."

Chief Higgins chuckled and shook his head. "Look, I told Officer Allen to include Edith's property on his rounds twice a day. Although, I don't know why I think I need to tell you about it." The chief leaned in closer and squinted. "That croissant stuff is all over your face, Myrtle."

Mrs. Decker glared. "Well, how long's it been there? No doubt everybody's seen it by now." She scrubbed the lower part of her face with a napkin, then turned her face back and forth for inspection. "Did I get all of it?"

The chief adjusted his glasses. "Yeah, for the most part." He gave the room a quick scan, while Mrs. Decker dipped her napkin into her glass of water and dabbed at her face. "There's no law that says a person has to keep money in a bank. Besides, what difference does it make to you?" He grabbed his cap and snapped it down on his head.

Mrs. Decker drew herself up and scowled at the chief over the rim of her bifocal glasses. "Well! There are some people in this town who like to keep their eyes on the wellbeing of our older folks. I thought you might be one of them, but I guess you're not!"

Chief Higgins resentfully eyed his half-drunk coffee, waited for Amy Jo to move out of the booth, then slid his squat body across the seat and stood up. "Myrtle, if Edith Martin calls our office and needs help that is within the guidelines of our police department, I will be glad to help her. But until then, I intend to mind my own business." He took a deep, sustaining breath and nodded his head in Myrtle Decker's general direction. After mumbling good-bye to the girls, he saluted Hank on his way out the door.

Mrs. Decker harrumphed and turned to the girls. "Well, can you beat that?"

Amy Jo and Becky turned to see if the women sitting at their counter seats were still there. They were. Becky scooted out of her seat and slipped around next to Amy Jo.

Hank brought their hot chocolate and muffins, then asked hesitantly, "How's it going here?"

The girls stared at their hot chocolate, but Myrtle Decker had found another victim. "Huh! Some of us take our responsibilities very seriously."

"How do you mean?" A customer arrived at the cash register, anxious to leave. "Sorry, Myrtle, I'll have to talk to you about it another time."

Mrs. Decker leaned forward, looking from one girl to the other. "The chief is dead wrong, you know. Somebody should have put a stop to Edith's hoarding nonsense years ago."

"How do you know Mrs. Martin has a lot of money hidden in her house?" Amy Jo said.

Mrs. Decker straightened the front of her dress and rearranged her hat. "Common knowledge, my dear girl, common knowledge."

Amy Jo raised an eyebrow. "Well, I never heard about, so it can't be too common."

Mrs. Decker dragged a mirror and small case out of her purse. "It all happened way before your time, dearie. Mine too." She drew the mirror in front of her face, then pulled her lips back to inspect her teeth. Taking a toothpick out of the case, she ran it methodically between each tooth as she continued to mumble. "Edith's father never trusted banks after the Bedford Bank closed almost one hundred years ago. He lost every single silver dime. Of course, dimes aren't silver anymore, are they?" Her fingers hesitated over the next tooth as she cast a quick glance at Becky. "Sorry, dearie. Forgot your father is bank manager there now."

Becky shrugged her shoulders, but curiosity drove her to ask the next question. "Has Mrs. Martin always hidden money in her house?"

"Yes. And I'll tell you another thing. Any old body with half a mind could snatch it all right up. Then where would she be?"

Amy Jo looked pointedly at Becky. "Yeah, where would she be then?"

"Well, at least somebody agrees with me." Mrs. Decker checked her watch and gasped. "Would you just look at the time? Best be getting on home. Mother's nurse is going on vacation for a couple of weeks, and I simply must find somebody to help me. Although, why I pay that nurse good money for the job she does, I'll never know." She drew white gloves out of her purse, then yanked them over her gnarled hands. "You just can't get good help these days, can you?" Mrs. Decker slid her ample frame across the seat. The corner of the table settled a bit as she heaved herself to her feet. She adjusted her flowered dress and checked her stockings for runs. Shoving her mammoth purse into the crook of her arm, she marched her orthopedic shoes down the aisle, and then rattled the door as she slammed it behind her.

Becky spoke in a lowered voice. "Do you think what she said is true?"

"Might be. Especially when you figure we already found one of the hiding places."

"No wonder Mrs. Martin is worried. What will she do if she can't remember where she's hidden the rest of her money?"

Amy Jo took another sip of her hot chocolate. "We'll help her look, because she'll be upset until she knows where the rest of it is hidden."

"Let's visit her in the hospital and find out if she remembers anything."

"I think we should wait a few days until she's feeling better."

The girls stood at the cash register while Hank counted out their change. "So you got the word on Edith Martin, right?"

"We were supposed to have tea with her, but when we got there, she was lying on the floor," Amy Jo said.

Hank looked up in surprise. "You were there this morning?"

"Yes. She was really weak and confused," Becky said.

Hank grimaced. "That happens to older people sometimes."

Amy Jo leaned closer as she whispered to her long-time confidant, "Mrs. Martin gave me one hundred dollars out of her purse for safekeeping until she gets out of the hospital."

"Really? Where are you going to keep it?"

"I'll give it to my mom when I get home. She'll lock it up for me."

Hank nodded his approval. "Good idea."

"The chief was pretty upset about everything Mrs. Decker said just now," Becky said. "He was afraid of what might happen."

"What do you mean?" Hank said.

"Well, Mrs. Decker thinks that while Mrs. Martin's in the hospital, somebody might break into the house and steal the money that's hidden there."

Hank pressed his lips together as he checked to see who was nearby. "I've heard rumors about that over the years. It was never anything definite. But if Myrtle Decker keeps talking about it, word will get around, and that's when I'll worry how safe Edith and her money are."

Amy Jo studied Hank. "So, you think what Mrs. Decker said is true?"

Hank shrugged his shoulder as someone approached the counter. "Not sure, but I wouldn't want somebody tearing up my house to find out."

Becky shook her head. "No. Mrs. Martin might get hurt."

"Exactly." Hank nodded to the girls as he turned to wait on a customer.

Deep in the shadow of the adjacent booth, red, raw hands stirred coffee while hungry eyes stared into space. All that money and not a relative in sight. It almost seemed too easy.

## Chapter 4

Amy Jo burst through the back door of her house. "Mom!"

"Back here!"

Amy Jo raced through the kitchen and down the hallway into Mrs. Ryan's office. "The ambulance took Mrs. Martin to the hospital!"

Evelyn Ryan pushed her auburn hair back from her face as she looked up from her computer screen. "The hospital!?"

"Yes! She was on the floor unconscious when we got there, so we called 911, and the ambulance came and took her to the hospital. I think she might have had a stroke."

Mrs. Ryan widened her blue eyes. "A stroke? What makes you say that?"

Amy Jo recounted the symptoms she'd heard on television. "Well, she talked with half of her mouth, and her hand was real limp. I learned what a stroke looks like, but what causes it?"

"There are various causes. High blood pressure can be one. Sometimes, a blood vessel in a person's brain bursts and cuts off the oxygen supply. What you described are definite signs."

Amy Jo scooted to the edge of her seat for the second part of her story. "Something else happened, Mom, and you're not going to believe it. We found thirty thousand dollars in a box hidden inside a little safe to the side of the fireplace."

Mrs. Ryan's lips parted as she stared at her daughter who, in ten years, would become her mirror. "Thirty thousand dollars?!"

"In ten-, twenty-, and hundred-dollar bills plus a bunch of gold coins. Did you know that gold coins weigh a ton?"

Mrs. Ryan blinked her eyes. "How did you find all that money?"

"We promised Mrs. Martin that we'd lock up before we left. When Beck got to the library, she found books tossed all over the floor. Then I noticed a corner of the mantle sticking out above the fireplace. Here's the weird part, Mom: when I tried to straighten it out, a small door popped open on the side. That's when we discovered this metal box with the cash and coins."

Mrs. Ryan leaned back in her chair. "That's extraordinary. I've heard rumors that Edith Martin kept a lot of money hidden in her house, but I'd always hoped they weren't true."

"Do you think she has a lot more money hidden in her house?"

"She might."

"That fits what Mrs. Martin said before she left in the ambulance. She was looking for something but couldn't remember what it was. Beck and I think that there must be other hiding places, only now she can't remember where they are."

"What makes you think there are more hiding places?"

"She said she couldn't find them."

Mrs. Ryan nodded. "You're right. She may have been looking for the other hiding places when she suffered the stroke."

"I know."

"Interesting. This explains some things though."

"Like what?" Amy Jo said.

"Well, in the late 1920s and early 30s, during the Depression, a lot of banks closed. People who had deposits in those banks lost all their money, and Edith's father was one of them. People say, from that day on, he never kept another cent in a bank. Maybe he built all those places to keep his money safe after that."

"Mrs. Decker said the same thing about Mrs. Martin's dad."

"When did you see Myrtle Decker?"

Amy Jo gave her mother a look that said, Wait'll you hear this. "Beck and I stopped at The Coffee Bean after we left Mrs. Martin's house. It was crowded, so Chief Higgins asked us to sit with them."

"Howard has avoided Myrtle Decker since they were in first grade together, so what were they doing sharing a booth?"

"Oh, I definitely think the chief was there first, and Mrs. Decker came in and trapped him after he ordered his coffee."

Mrs. Ryan controlled the bubble of laughter that threatened to explode. "What did she say?"

"Well, Mrs. Decker said Mrs. Martin's dad didn't trust banks. She thinks there's a ton of money hidden in that house. Of course, Beck and I didn't say a word about the thirty thousand dollars we found."

"You were wise to keep quiet about it."

"But that's what Mrs. Decker was talking about. She told the chief that Mrs. Martin's house isn't safe with all that money hidden there. The neighbors on either side of her can't see her house through the trees, so somebody could tear the house apart looking for it."

"Myrtle Decker worries a lot." Evelyn Ryan drew her mouth in a straight line as she looked at the phone. "Maybe I should call the chief and talk to him about keeping an eye on the house until Edith gets back."

"The chief already told Officer Allen to swing by the house twice a day. Beck and I plan to ride over in between his visits and check the doors and windows."

Mrs. Ryan looked uneasily at her daughter but just nodded her head. Being the town's junior detective gave her daughter a connection to her father.

Amy Jo eyes rested on a picture of Detective Ryan sitting on a table behind her mother's desk.

Mrs. Ryan swiveled her chair around. "We miss him, don't we."

Amy Jo nodded her head. "Yes."

Detective Ryan had been dead nearly a year. He and his partner had been shot at night while investigating a Brink's truck robbery. Detective Ryan died instantly. Detective Ryan's partner survived, but after many months of physical therapy, Sergeant Paulson had moved back to Bedford in a wheelchair. Amy Jo made it a point to avoid him. There was an ongoing investigation and the murder remained unsolved.

Mrs. Ryan eyed chocolate stains on the front of her daughter's shirt. "Looks like you had hot chocolate."

"A cranberry muffin, too. But I'm still hungry." Suddenly, she stood up and reached inside her jeans pocket. "Oh, Mom, I almost forgot. Mrs. Martin gave me one hundred dollars out of her purse to keep until she gets home. Would you lock it in your desk drawer?"

Mrs. Ryan placed the one hundred dollars inside an envelope, then locked it in a side drawer. "It might be a while until Mrs. Martin is released. And she may not fully recover for a long time."

Amy Jo frowned. "What will happen to her?"

"We can all help her. But she's got a big house and a large property, so she'll probably have to hire some people. I suspect someone will need to stay with her round the clock for a while."

"I'd like to see her. I know Beck would, too."

"I'll run over to the hospital in a couple of days. You're welcome to go with me if you like, but I suspect you and Becky would like to see her on your own."

Amy Jo nodded. "Maybe she'll remember what worried her so much."

Mrs. Ryan hesitated before responding. "It may take her a while to remember. It might be wiser to wait until she's home before you talk to her about the money you found."

"I understand. It would upset her, and there wouldn't be a thing she could do about it while she's in the hospital." Amy Jo stood up and patted her stomach.

Mrs. Ryan laughed. Her rather small daughter was suddenly starting to grow. "Hungry?"

"That muffin and hot chocolate didn't last long."

"I'm hungry too. Let's have lunch."

Amy Jo trailed after her mother into the kitchen. "You know, there's something else that's worrying me."

"Oh? What's that?"

"You know how Mrs. Decker's voice just carries a mile away?"

"Oh, yes, I know all about that."

"I hope nobody heard what she said about Mrs. Martin's money and the house being empty. The Coffee Bean was crowded, and there was a lot of noise, so maybe nobody heard her."

Evelyn Ryan looked over her daughter's head. "Money is very useful, but sometimes it can change people in dangerous ways, and it only takes one desperate person overhearing a conversation to do the damage."

## Chapter 5

It was just after one o'clock in the morning, and everybody who valued his life was locked inside his apartment for the night. Cars were parked close together on both sides of the narrow street. An occasional street lamp highlighted empty bottles and cans scattered along the sidewalk. Scraps of paper floated through the air as gusts picked them up and carried them aimlessly.

A shuffling noise across the street drew Amy Jo's attention. She backed two steps deeper into the shadow and flattened herself against the wall. Her eyes widened and her focus narrowed as she waited.

A man darted out of the alley. He hunched over between two cars, using them as a shield. Barely visible, he stepped forward, checking the street in both directions. His head jerked up at the sound of a car easing to a halt a block away, and he slithered back into the darkness of the alley.

Both car doors opened and shut quietly, but in the stillness of the night, the sound echoed down the length of the street. They hesitated and then two sets of footsteps reverberated between the buildings. Slowly, the detective and his sergeant moved closer until they stopped at the appointed place. The men scanned the area in opposite directions, listening for the approach of the informant they'd come to meet.

One of the men drew his hand across his face as he slowly pivoted. The other man slipped his right hand inside his coat. He hesitated for a second, then withdrew his empty hand and dropped it to his side.

Amy Jo stretched herself on her tiptoes. She saw the man in the alley pressing his body against the wall with his head tilted in the direction of the two men. Her brows drew together as her eyes widened farther. She struggled to see his face, but all she perceived was the dark outline where he stood.

The man reached for something tucked underneath his belt. When he stretched his hand outside the protection of the shadow, the gun glinted in the half moonlight. Amy Jo pressed her hands against the wall, her fingers splayed apart.

Her jaw dropped open, and her head jerked to the side as the two men advanced farther down the sidewalk, scanning the buildings, windows, and rooftops. They stood motionless half a block from the alley where the man waited with the gun. Finally, the detective nodded to his sergeant, and they reached inside their coats and drew out their pistols. They angled their hands and quickly checked their firearms. As they drew near the alley, the dark figure hidden in the shadow raised his gun and waited.

Amy Jo opened her mouth wider to scream a warning, but nothing came out. Sweat trickled down the sides of her face and she gritted her teeth, then she tried again. The muscle cords in her neck ached with the effort to scream, and still no sound emitted from her mouth. She tried to run forward, but the lower part of her body was frozen. Tears of frustration sprang from her eyes as she watched the two men close in on death. The man in the alley got off two rounds. One of the men fell instantly; the gun from his hand clattered to the ground. The second man clutched his side and returned fire but missed. The man in the alley took careful aim and pulled the trigger. The second man's body slammed against a car and slid to the ground.

"Dad!" Amy Jo screamed. "Dad!"

The lights came on and Evelyn Ryan stumbled to her daughter's bedside. Mrs. Ryan grabbed Amy Jo's shoulders and drew her to a sitting position, then held her close as the girl sobbed.

Amy Jo agonized as she clung to her mother. "I saw them, but I couldn't stop it."

Mrs. Ryan smoothed the back of her daughter's hair. "Nobody could."

"I should have been there!"

Mrs. Ryan closed her eyes tightly and waited for her voice to settle before answering. "We can't think that way, Amy Jo."

Amy Jo stopped crying and pulled back. "That's the sergeant's version of the story."

Mrs. Ryan took the tips of her fingers and lifted Amy Jo's chin, then looked into her daughter's eyes. "That's what Sergeant Paulson told the captain, and I believe him."

Amy Jo squeezed her eyes shut. "I hate him!"

Evelyn Ryan sighed deeply, then shook her daughter slightly by the shoulders. "Hate will destroy your life, Amy Jo. Survivor's guilt and being paralyzed are terrible burdens," she added. "Remember that."

Amy Jo was quiet for a few seconds and then shrugged her shoulders. "I know he must feel guilty about Dad's death."

"Guilt is worse than grief."

Amy Jo thought about her mother's words but didn't comment.

Silence fell for a moment, then Mrs. Ryan asked, "Can I get you something?"

Amy Jo shook her head.

Evelyn Ryan opened her mouth but changed her mind. She kissed her daughter on the forehead, rose from the side of the bed, then drew the covers around her daughter's shoulders. "Try to go back to sleep."

Amy Jo looked up at her mother. "Thanks, Mom," she said, then added, "I love you."

"I love you too, dear." Mrs. Ryan walked to the door, took one last look at her daughter, and switched off the light.

## Chapter 6

Becky led Oreo out of her stall and stationed her between the crossties. "Did you talk to the girl from school yet?"

"Yeah. We can keep Ginger and Oreo in her field while we visit Mrs. Martin. We'll only have to walk a couple of blocks from there to the hospital."

"Mrs. Martin's been in the hospital for nearly a week now. I wonder if she's going home soon," Becky said as she retrieved her hoof pick from Amy Jo's tack box. "I wish you'd look for your own hoof pick."

Amy Jo shrugged, then folded her arms as she studied Becky's pony. Oreo was black in the front and back with an increasingly wide, white stripe around her middle. "You know, I think she's put on more weight."

Becky twisted her mouth to the side. "We go through this about twice a month."

"Twice a month? I can't remember the last time I brought it up."

"You brought it up the last day of school exactly two weeks ago."

"You sure about that? I don't remember saying anything about Oreo's rather. . . well, her middle section as recently as that."

Becky slowly blinked her hazel eyes at her friend. "Well, you did. Anyway, why do you worry about it?"

"I do not worry about it. I just think you should be a little more proactive, that's all."

"Proactive."

"Right. As in when you see her pudgy middle expanding even more, you should do something about it."

Becky studied her boots, then narrowed her eyes at her friend.

"OK. No need to get touchy about it. I'm just trying to help you, that's all."

"I do not need that kind of help. If I need help with Oreo's weight from this day forward, I will ask for it."

"So, you'll ask. I can deal. You clearly haven't done anything about it until now, but I can deal." Amy Jo quickly changed the subject. "I wonder if Mrs. Martin remembers what she was looking for the day the ambulance took her to the hospital."

Becky glared at her friend a few more seconds before letting go. "Do you think we ought to ask her about it today?"

Amy Jo placed the saddle squarely in the middle of Ginger's saddle pad. "We'll have to play it by ear. If she brings it up, it'll be easier to ask questions."

"If she doesn't bring it up, are you going to ask her anyway?"

"It depends on whether she seems to be thinking clearly or not," Amy Jo said, then tightened the girth.

"And we won't know that until we talk to her."

Becky guided Oreo across the gravel driveway, where her mother was weeding the flower bed. "I'll weed my half when we get back, Mom," she said.

Mrs. Allison looked up under her straw hat. "All right, dear. How long do you think you'll be at the hospital?"

"From what Mrs. Ryan told Amy Jo, they're only letting visitors stay about fifteen minutes, so with riding there and back, I shouldn't be gone more than an hour."

"Tell Edith I said hello. I'll visit tomorrow."

"OK, Mom."

The girls rode with long reins down the length of the lane that joined their two houses, then turned left onto Quarry Road.

When Amy Jo and Becky arrived at their school friend's house, she was nowhere in sight, so they pulled the tack off the ponies and headed in the direction of the field. The mares lifted their heads and shied from a peculiar object with birds flitting around it. The girls murmured reassuring phrases as they led them past the birdbath. A black and tan German shepherd slid under the fence and trotted over to the two mares. The dog lifted her nose and touched Oreo's muzzle, then repeated the process with Ginger. She herded the ponies toward the shade trees and then lay down nearby to guard them. The dog seemed to reassure the mares that they would be under her protection for the duration of their stay in the field.

Amy Jo and Becky read the tag on the dog's collar. "Wilhelmina" was written in bold letters, but underneath was the word "Mina".

Amy Jo grinned. "So, you're a watchdog, Mina."

Mina's tongue lolled to the side as she panted in the heat of the day.

Becky slid her hand behind Mina's ear and scratched. Mina leaned into Becky's hand but never took her eyes off the mares. "Thanks for taking care of Oreo and Ginger."

The girls rode the elevator to the third floor, then peeked around the corner to make sure Mrs. Martin was alone before entering.

Mrs. Martin smiled, and this time, it was with both sides of her mouth.

Amy Jo grinned. "Hi, Mrs. Martin."

Becky took a position on the opposite side of the bed. "How are you feeling?"

"Oh, I'm much better. Just a little tired now."

"When are they going to let you go home?" Amy Jo said.

Mrs. Martin pulled the sides of her mouth down. "Dr. Murphy won't let me go home until someone is there to take care of me. I can't do anything around the yard, so I'll need someone for that, too."

"We can help you," Becky said.

"Sure; just give us a list."

Mrs. Martin smiled at both girls. "That's nice of you, but Dr. Murphy said that I need people there full-time. It's more than you can do."

"Have they found anyone yet?" Becky asked.

"Social Services here at the hospital called some agencies, so I hope it won't be long until everything's in place."

"We've picked up your mail every day," Becky said. "We'll bring it over when you get home."

"And I locked up the hundred dollars you gave me the day you got sick."

Mrs. Martin's brow wrinkled as she tried to remember. "You girls were at my house the day the ambulance came for me? And I gave you one hundred dollars to lock up?"

Amy Jo shot Becky a quick glance before answering. "Yes. You asked me to take the hundred dollars out of your purse for safekeeping before the ambulance came."

"Everything moved so fast that day, Mrs. Martin. You probably just forgot we were there."

Mrs. Martin sighed. "Well, thank you for keeping the money and watching over the house and. . ." Her voice trailed off as she looked gratefully from one to the other.

Amy Jo bit her lip, then asked, "Are you excited about going home?"

"Yes, but I keep thinking that I need to check on something." Mrs. Martin brought her deeply veined hand up to her face. "It seems rather foolish, but I can't quite put my finger on it."

"Don't worry. I'm sure it'll come back to you soon," Becky said.

A young woman came in, smiling apologetically. "I'm sorry, but I need to take Mrs. Martin down to physical therapy now."

"What's physical therapy?" Amy Jo said.

"The physical therapist works on strengthening Mrs. Martin's arms and legs so that she can walk again."

Mrs. Martin suddenly remembered something. "That's another thing I need. Dr. Murphy said someone has to come to my house every day for my physical therapy."

"Every day?" Amy Jo said. "That'll take up a lot of your time."

"Oh, I have a lot of time right now."

A young man stepped through the door to help Mrs. Martin into a wheelchair.

"How long will you be in physical therapy?" asked Becky.

Mrs. Martin looked at the young woman.

"About an hour."

"We'd better go then. We'll see you soon, Mrs. Martin," Becky said. "Oh, Mom said hello. She'll come to see you tomorrow."

"Knowing your mother, she'll probably bring me flowers from her garden."

The girls were quiet as they walked to the field where Ginger and Oreo grazed. The ponies lifted their heads and the German shepherd stood as she spotted the girls. They gathered their tack and stood at the gate, calling their ponies. For once, the mares ambled over to the fence and were rewarded with words of praise and scratches under the chin. Ginger and Oreo were thirsty and wanted to go home, so they stood without complaint while being tacked up.

Mina wagged her tail as the girls spoke softly to her and scratched her ears, then trotted back to her own yard. From there, she watched the ponies trot down the road until they disappeared.

"Mrs. Martin doesn't remember the day she had the stroke, not even the part where she asked you to take the hundred dollars for safekeeping."

"No. I still think what she's forgotten has to do with the hidden money. What if Mrs. Decker is right about somebody stealing it?"

"She's right about the neighbors not being able to see her house, and nobody lives across the street either."

"But there's another angle we haven't thought about," Amy Jo said.

"What's that?"

"Will Mrs. Martin be able to trust the new people who work for her when they find out there's a fortune stashed away in her house?"

## Chapter 7

After the ponies settled in the paddock the following morning, the girls sat on the top rail of the fence. Vague plans to start barn work plagued them, but plans and action were still battling it out.

Ginger and Oreo chased each other around the paddock, kicking up their heels with their ears laid flat against their heads and their tails fanning out behind them. The game started to lose its luster after the third round. The sight of the girls perched on the fence this time of day was a bit unsettling. They slowed to a trot and snorted, then ambled deep into the shade and lowered their muzzles to the ground.

Amy Jo pondered the visit to the hospital as she watched the mares graze. "We need to keep an eye on these new people once Mrs. Martin gets home."

"How often do you think we should stop by?"

"Every day."

Becky stopped kicking her feet against the lower rung. "How are we going to do that?"

"We've got to create some kind of job or reason to be there."

"Like what? We can't walk in the house day after day to check whether the furniture or pictures have been moved."

"No. But Mrs. Martin's got small outbuildings on her property which could use a coat of paint. Maybe we could offer to paint some of them."

"We haven't finished painting the fence we're sitting on yet."

"Yeah, but you haven't got a ton of money waiting for somebody to steal either."

Becky groaned. "I just hate painting. With this fence, all we have to do is slap on some whitewash with a big brush. It doesn't matter if some of it hits the ground. But those small buildings need to be sanded and wiped down before you paint."

"Hm. Let's think of something else."

While the girls labored over the "something else", Ginger and Oreo wandered over to the fence. Oreo nosed Becky's hand, searching for candy, then moved her head to the side and sniffed her pocket.

Becky dug out a piece of peppermint which disappeared in the blink of an eye. Having been left out, Ginger nudged Oreo aside. Without hesitation, Becky offered a piece to her.

Still avoiding barn work, the girls slid onto their ponies' bare backs, allowing them to wander as they continued to invent a reason to visit Mrs. Martin every day.

"We could try visiting her every day for a while," Becky shouted from the other side of the paddock.

"I think we need a job that forces us to be there, like painting the outbuildings."

Becky heaved a sigh. "How about pulling weeds?"

"Pulling weeds? Kills your back, and it's hot in the sun!"

Becky guided Oreo to Ginger's side. "Painting in the sun isn't a hot job?"

"We'll find a little outbuilding that's in the shade."

"What if Mrs. Martin chooses a shed that's in the sun? There's got to be something else."

Amy Jo slid to the ground. "Let me know if anything riveting comes to mind." She walked into the barn, grabbed a pitchfork and muck bucket and started picking out Ginger's stall. Minutes later she heard the barn door open.

"I haven't thought of anything better, but I'm still cogitating."

"Cogitating?"

"It's a new word I learned. It means to think over something carefully."

"Well, this definitely needs cogitating, because we need something better than painting and pulling weeds. Anyway, it's not a done deal. We have to ask Mrs. Martin if she'll let us do it. If she doesn't, we'll have to come up with Plan B. . .whatever that is."

"Plan B," Becky said absently. "Look, let's go to the hospital and ask her. I'd rather know right away, wouldn't you?"

"Yeah, I'd rather know."

The girls clipped a lead rope onto the ponies' halters and led them down the aisle. There was something timelessly comforting in the steady clomp, clomp of the ponies' metal shoes hitting the cement floor. Ginger and Oreo's total focus was food and comfort, with no concerns or worries beyond that. There was a lesson in that.

The girls groomed their ponies then tacked up. Fifteen minutes later, they headed down the lane to Quarry Road.

The German shepherd seemed to be watching for them. As soon as they came into view, she slid under the fence and waited. Once the ponies were free, they followed Mina to their place under the shade trees.

Amy Jo and Becky leaned against the fence. Their faces and brows relaxed as they watched Ginger and Oreo roam within the perimeter of the shade. Mina lay down with her tongue lolling to the side, observing their every move. It was an oasis of peace.

They heard muffled voices behind Mrs. Martin's closed door, so Becky walked to the end of the hall and sat in the waiting area. Amy Jo pressed her ear against the door, shrugged her shoulders, then joined Becky.

Before long, a short roundish woman walked out of Mrs. Martin's room. She waited at the elevator door, tugging at her sweater as she checked information on her clipboard. Frowning, she drew out a pencil tucked in the bun at the back of her head and made a few notes on the paper before stepping into the elevator.

"Must be Social Services," Amy Jo said.

Becky nodded, then followed her friend down the hallway.

Mrs. Martin's face brightened when the girls rounded the corner.

Becky took her place on the side of the bed next to the window. "How are you?"

"I'm going home tomorrow," Mrs. Martin said with a smile.

"Everything must be set up then," Amy Jo said.

"Oh, yes. The lady from Social Services just hired two people."

Becky glanced at Amy Jo with a knowing look. "Who did she get to help you?"

"Well, there's a housekeeper who'll live with me until I'm really on my feet. She'll do the cooking and cleaning, that sort of thing." The older lady frowned before continuing. "I've forgotten her name, but when the lady told me what it was, I remember thinking I'd read a book with that name in it when I was a young girl." Her brows knitted as she struggled to recall the other person. "There's Jack. He'll do the outside work."

Becky cast a hopeful glance at Amy Jo. "What kind of work?"

Mrs. Martin's eyes widened a bit as she considered the question. "Well, I suppose he'll cut the grass and trim the hedges and do some weeding."

"He'll do yard work then," Amy Jo said.

"Well, now that I think about it, maybe I'll ask him to do some odd jobs around the place like repairing and painting. Everything could really use a little sprucing up."

Becky visibly relaxed. "It looks like you're all set."

"Yes, I think I am. I still need physical therapy every day, so the lady from Social Services will call an agency this afternoon to find someone." She grimaced, then added, "The physical therapy sessions are so difficult. I'll be glad when I'm on my feet again."

"How long will you need to have physical therapy?" Becky said.

Mrs. Martin sighed. "A few more weeks, I suspect. I can get out of bed if someone is there to help me, and I can walk a short distance with my walker. But I can't get up and down the steps by myself yet, and I'll need to do that before I give up my therapy."

"It doesn't look like you'll need anybody else," Amy Jo said, trying for an upbeat tone.

Mrs. Martin laid her head back on the pillow. "Yes, I feel like I can relax now."

"Yeah, I know how you feel," Becky said.

The girls chatted aimlessly a few more minutes before leaving. They took the elevator down to the first floor and walked in silence as they left the hospital grounds.

"Mrs. Martin doesn't need her sheds painted or weeds pulled, so what do we do now?"

Amy Jo kicked a pebble with every step she took. "Not a clue. We have to do something, because we don't know anything about Jack and what's-her-name. I know they're coming from an agency, but a lot of money is a huge temptation."

"Once they find out it's stuffed all over the house, who knows what will happen."

"Exactly. Don't worry, something will come up."

And it did, but it wasn't much to their liking.

## Chapter 8

Evelyn Ryan hung up the phone, then reached for her afternoon cup of tea. She put the cup down when she heard Amy Jo park her bike beside the kitchen door and walk in. "How's Mrs. Martin?"

Amy Jo eyed the plate of chocolate chip cookies with a teapot sitting beside it. "Should I make more tea?"

"No. I thought you might be home soon, so I made enough for both of us."

Amy Jo smiled her thanks, then poured milk into her cup before adding tea. "They found a housekeeper and someone to work outside, so she goes home tomorrow. No physical therapist yet." She shrugged her shoulders as she nibbled a cookie. "We don't know these people, so we need to stop by every day to make sure everything's all right."

"You're worried one of them will find the money, so you need a logical reason to be there."

"Exactly! We can't just stop by to see how she's feeling."

"No." Mrs. Ryan took another sip of tea. "Hm, that's interesting."

"What's interesting?"

"Mr. Stephens from the Springfield Sun called. Some of his regular delivery people will be on vacation, so he's looking for people to substitute. Mrs. Martin's street is one of the routes he mentioned."

"Delivering newspapers? As in early in the morning?"

"If you're interested, you'd probably have to get up at six o'clock."

Amy Jo sipped deeply of her tea while she thought. "We'd be at her house every day without having to come up with an excuse."

"Yes. And you'd make some money."

Amy Jo reached for another cookie. "I wonder how Beck will take to it. Sleeping later is something she looks forward to in the summer. So do I."

"You won't know until you ask."

"I'll think it over tonight." Amy Jo paused, then added, "On the other hand, if Mr. Stephens is calling a bunch of kids, I don't want anyone to get Mrs. Martin's route."

"It might be your only opportunity to keep an eye on things."

"I'll call Beck now."

The sun had barely made an appearance Monday morning when the girls crouched over a stack of newspapers at the end of their lane, while Ginger and Oreo looked over their shoulders.

Becky tapped her pencil on the list of customers. "We have forty-two customers, so we're supposed to have forty-two newspapers. Do we have forty-two papers?"

Amy Jo didn't bother to cover a yawn. "No idea. Didn't think about counting them."

Becky glanced at her watch. It was already getting to be a long morning. "Well, don't you think we should count them in case we're short of papers or they gave us too many?"

Amy Jo frowned. "Well, don't you think they know how many to give us?"

"Of course they know how many they should give us. But we won't know if there's exactly forty-two newspapers here unless we count them, will we?"

Amy Jo reached for a stack of the newspapers. "OK, no reason to get testy." She soundlessly counted them out and then looked up. "Twenty-two."

Becky placed her rubber-banded stack in her saddlebag before responding. "I have twenty, so we have the right amount."

"Well, it's a good thing we got that settled."

"Look, you've got to figure that if there are newspapers left over after we deliver all of them, that means we missed somebody on the paper route. You're just not thinking ahead!"

Amy Jo glared at her lifelong best friend. "I'd forgotten just how much you talk early in the morning."

Becky stiffened her back. "Well, it's not that I enjoy talking this much, but this is a new job, and there's a lot to work out. Think what might happen if we hadn't counted out these newspapers. If we knew we started out with forty-two newspapers and had some left over after we thought we'd delivered them to everyone, that would mean we missed some customers and would have to go back to every single house to check. But if we had too few newspapers. . ."

Amy Jo held up her hands. "I totally get the picture! Henceforth, we will count them every morning!"

Becky turned sideways and stared down Quarry Road, then turned back. "Now, as I recall, this was your idea. I'm just trying to get us off to a good start."

"I know, Beck. You're absolutely right," Amy Jo said apologetically. "We have to have a method, or we'll definitely mess up."

"Now we're on the same page."

After the newspapers were loaded inside the saddlebags, Amy Jo revealed her strategy. "We'll stick all the newspapers in the box along the road, but when we get to Mrs. Martin's house, we'll take it to the door and hand it directly to her. We can see what's happening then." She swung herself into the saddle and nudged Ginger toward the road.

"Sounds good me," Becky said.

The girls rode through Bedford on Main Street. At the edge of town, the houses stretched farther apart, with trees and shrubbery giving privacy to each house.

Amy Jo guided Ginger to the opposite side of the road and shoved her first newspaper into the slot. "If we deliver Mrs. Martin's paper last, we can stay a little longer and meet Jack and the new housekeeper."

"Do you have the money Mrs. Martin gave you for safekeeping?"

Amy Jo tapped her pocket. "Right here. I just hope we're not making a big mistake."

"Why?"

Amy Jo guided Ginger across the macadam. "We don't know these people. What if one of them takes it?"

"I know that's a risk. But we'd be embarrassed if she brought it up, and we didn't have the money with us."

"It's just that one hundred dollars is a big temptation."

"We promised to return it as soon as she got home," Becky said. "So we have to give it back today."

"I just hope we don't regret it," Amy Jo said prophetically.

## Chapter 9

It was eight fifteen as they trotted down Mrs. Martin's driveway. "It's a little early to knock on the door," Becky said.

"It's too early for a visit, but we're delivering the newspaper." Amy Jo eyed a truck on the way to the hitching post. "I wonder if that belongs to Jack."

"That's probably Jack over there painting the shed."

The girls guided Ginger and Oreo to the left edge of the driveway to get a closer look, but Jack shifted sideways and continued to paint.

They studied his profile as they moved along, then reined the ponies back toward the house. Fifty feet to the side of the front door, they halted and dismounted.

Becky ran up the right stirrup and looked casually over Oreo's back. "He's not exactly the friendly type."

"He's definitely ignoring us. Let's go see what we can find out."

Jack was tall, thinish and somewhere in his early thirties. The hair that showed below his cap was sandy colored and curly. His mouth was pinched shut and his eyes were fixed squarely on his work.

"Hi. I'm Amy Jo Ryan, and this is my friend, Becky Allison."

Becky smiled. "Hi."

Silence prevailed as Jack dipped his brush into the paint bucket. "Right."

Amy Jo glanced at Becky, who shrugged her shoulders. "Uh, we live back a lane off Quarry Road not far from here. . .in different houses, of course. . .same lane though."

"We deliver the newspaper every morning," Becky added.

Jack wiped the excess paint off the brush and continued to paint. "Never saw you before."

"Well, that makes sense, since this is our first day on the job," said Amy Jo.

Jack tightened the corners of his mouth but refused to take the bait.

Becky signaled with her head to forget it and go to the house.

Amy Jo raised a hand. "So, are you new around Bedford?"

"Yes."

When he didn't comment further, Amy Jo continued, "How are things working out for you? A lot to do, I suppose."

"Enough." Jack's brush hit an unseen nail head. When he reached down to pick up his hammer, a letter fell out of his shirt pocket and floated down to Amy Jo's feet. When she picked it up, he stepped forward and snatched it back. His eyes narrowed as he shoved it back into his shirt pocket and buttoned it securely shut.

Amy Jo stared at him. "I was just trying to help you."

Jack lifted the hammer and drove the offending nail flat against the surface of the shed, then tossed the hammer aside. "Forget it."

Amy Jo drew her brows together. Why did he overreact?

This entire scenario was about to shift into overdrive, so Becky grabbed Amy Jo's arm and turned toward the house. "We'll be seeing you around."

Amy Jo shook her arm free. "What are you doing? He has totally overblown that entire letter thing, and I want to know why."

Becky turned to see if Jack had heard, but he continued to paint without so much as a look in their direction. "Yeah, well, let's not blow our cover on the first day."

Amy Jo studied Jack while she scratched Ginger under the chin. When she reached the mare's sweet spot, Ginger arched her head and tilted her muzzle. "You're probably right." Then a slow smile spread across her face. "Did you see the front of that envelope?"

"You didn't have time to look at it, did you?"

"It was from someone called Angela Ashbury who lives in the state of Virginia."

Becky's eyes grew wide. "You only had it for a second, and you saw all that?"

"Yep, and I just have to wonder who Angela Ashbury is."

"Sounds like she made it up."

Amy Jo snorted. "Phony as all get out."

"I wonder if he's from Virginia, too."

Amy Jo cast a sidelong glance at Jack, who moved his setup around the corner. "Let's check the license plate on his truck."

Becky nearly choked but tagged along as Amy Jo slipped across the driveway behind Jack's beat-up red truck. "Virginia."

"He's a long way from home."

"Maybe the letter is from his mother or sister. Maybe Ashbury is his last name, too."

"Ohh, I doubt it," Amy Jo said.

"What makes you say that?"

"The letter smelled of perfume."

Becky's eyebrows rose. "Perfume? A girlfriend maybe?"

"Might be. Poor thing."

They walked up the steps and Amy Jo rang the doorbell. "I can hardly wait to meet the housekeeper."

Becky peeked through the side window. "Couldn't be any worse than Jack."

The door opened, and there she was. Whatever they'd expected, it hadn't been this.

## Chapter 10

Siren Red. They sold it in a bottle at the drug store. As luck would have it, they had eyebrow pencil to match. Her eyes squinted so ferociously it was impossible to gauge their color. Obviously a frugal person. Her dress also served as a nightgown. Did housekeepers usually wear flip-flops?

The overwhelming color shocked Amy Jo into silence.

Siren Red folded her arms and leaned against the door. "Well?"

Becky cleared her throat, then cleared it again as she elbowed Amy Jo.

"Ah! We deliver the Springfield Sun, and we're here to give this to Mrs. Martin."

Siren Red held out her hand. "I'll give it to her."

"We promised to deliver this directly to her. "It's a. . .it's a rule."

Siren Red lifted her penciled-in eyebrows. "What sort of rule?"

"Well," she began, then turned to Becky. "What sort of rule would you say it is, Beck?"

"Well, uh, it's an executive order." Becky had no idea what it meant, but it resounded of authority.

The frown evolved into a scowl, but she opened the door and let the girls step through. Four rooms fanned out of the hallway with the staircase about twenty feet from the door. A door was built into the side of the stairway, leading down to the basement, where the girls would be trapped in a matter of days.

As they made their way up the steps, Becky looked over her shoulder, noting that the housekeeper had closed every single door. She stumbled on the third step, and only saved herself from falling by grabbing the rail.

"Are you all right?"

Becky nodded, and the girls hurried to the landing at the top of the stairs.

Mrs. Martin's room was on the right at the end of the hall. Siren Red tapped lightly on the door, then walked in. "These two girls insist on bringing the newspaper to you."

Mrs. Martin's face lit up. "It's all right, Alice. Amy Jo and Becky are always welcome."

Alice shrugged her shoulders. "If you say so."

"Help me sit up, would you please?" After Alice expertly shifted the pillows, Mrs. Martin smiled her thanks. "It's all right, Alice. I'll ring the buzzer if I need anything."

Alice stood hesitantly, then turned and left the room.

Amy Jo grinned after the housekeeper left. "Alice in Wonderland?"

"You said you couldn't remember the name of the housekeeper, but it was the name of a book that you'd read as a girl," Becky said.

Mrs. Martin laid her head back on the pillow and chuckled. "You're right, it was Alice in Wonderland."

Amy Jo eyed the open door. "Would you mind if I shut the door?"

Mrs. Martin looked a little taken aback but nodded her head in agreement.

After the door was closed, Amy Jo positioned herself on one side of the bed, Becky on the other.

Mrs. Martin used her bifocals to read the date written on the newspaper. "Monday morning. It's so hard to keep track of the day when you've been in the hospital for a while."

Amy Jo dug into her pocket and brought out one hundred dollars. "I brought your money, Mrs. Martin."

Mrs. Martin's brows drew together. "Money?"

"The day we visited you in the hospital we talked about the money?" Becky said.

"Oh, yes. You told me you'd locked it up for safekeeping until I got home."

Amy Jo glanced at Becky, and they visibly relaxed. She counted the ten-dollar bills on top of the bed. "One hundred dollars."

"Thank you so much for taking care of this. I suppose I was being a silly old woman, but I was worried about it," Mrs. Martin explained, then pointed to her purse on a nearby table. "Would you put it in there, Amy Jo?"

Amy Jo slipped over to the table and returned the money to Mrs. Martin's billfold.

"You see, I take whatever money I think I'm going to need out of my. . .well, out of one of my money boxes every week or so to pay expenses, and I had just put one hundred dollars in my purse. I suppose the whole town of Bedford knows that I don't hold much with banks." Mrs. Martin looked sheepishly at the girls. "I'm afraid I have quite a bit hidden in the house, in fireproof boxes, of course. I never talk about it, because it's not something you. . .well, you tell people, but I guess I need a little help now."

"You mean help from us?" Becky said.

"Well, yes. You see, I've forgotten all the places I hide the money boxes. My father built little hidden recesses all over the house, but I can't get out of bed by myself yet to search for them. I don't know Alice well enough to ask her to help me look. And if I don't find some of the money soon, I won't be able to pay her or Jack their wages or buy anything."

Amy Jo raised an eyebrow and Becky nodded. "Do you remember the day you went to the hospital and Beck and I locked up the house for you?"

Mrs. Martin hesitated before answering. "It's all a muddle, but you mentioned when you visited me in the hospital that you were here that day."

"Well, when we got to the library we found all your books on the floor."

"At first I thought you'd been robbed," Becky said. "Then, Amy Jo decided that you were looking for something."

"We found a hidden door on the side of your fireplace with a box full of money inside."

"Thirty thousand dollars!"

Mrs. Martin stared at the girls and finally nodded. "I remember now. After I took out the money, I suddenly couldn't remember where the other hiding places were. I was frantic." She laid her head back on the pillow and sighed. "But now I'll be all right." She drew a deep breath and sat up straighter in bed. "I still need to know where the other money is."

"Do you want us to look for them?" Amy Jo said.

"Jack and Alice seem all right, but I don't really know them. And I haven't met the physical therapist yet, so I don't know anything about her."

"We understand," said Becky.

The tension of the past week was etched on Mrs. Martin's face. "The problem is Alice and Jack are always around, and this Miss Windle is going to start coming today, but I have no idea when she'll pop up. Sometime in the mornings, I suspect. I just don't know how you're going to look for them without one of them seeing where they're hidden." She drew her hand up to her forehead. "I even worry about you going into the library while one of them is in the house for fear they'll see you. I'm sure everyone is perfectly all right. It's just that. . ."

Amy Jo glanced across the expanse of the bed at Becky, then stroked Mrs. Martin's hand. "Don't worry about anything. Beck and I will come up with a plan."

"You'll be all right for now with the hundred dollars in your purse."

"Even though you are both young, somehow I know you'll take care of it." Mrs. Martin turned to Amy Jo. "You're just like your father. . .so good at figuring things out. He was clever even as a young boy. I wasn't surprised when he joined the police force in Springfield. It seemed natural."

Amy Jo swallowed hard and nodded. "Thanks, Mrs. Martin."

"We'd better leave," Becky said, looking at Mrs. Martin's drawn face.

"We'll be back tomorrow morning at the same time, and we'll definitely have thought of something."

Mrs. Martin's head slipped back against the pillow, and she closed her eyes. "I know you'll take care of it."

The girls tiptoed across the room. By mutual agreement, they didn't say a word until they were outside.

Oreo lifted her head and neighed softly as she saw Becky approach, then Ginger chimed in with an even louder complaint.

The girls mounted their ponies and headed toward the driveway. They silently focused their eyes on the ground directly in front of their ponies' hoofs.

As they reached the truck, Amy Jo surveyed the lawn for signs of Jack. When she didn't see him, she said in a low voice, "Let's take another look at Jack's license plate. Maybe we'll find out what county he's from in Virginia."

Becky kept an eye on the lawn while her friend hopped down from her saddle.

Amy Jo squatted in front of the license. "Doesn't give any information at all beyond the license number, not even in small print."

Becky's eyes drifted to the position of the rear wheel in the mulch. "He only missed those marigolds by about three inches. I don't think Mrs. Martin would be too happy if he crushed her flowers with his truck."

"He's not into flowers. Either that, or he's just careless."

When they reached the end of the driveway, they pulled gently on the right rein, guiding their ponies onto Main Street. They rode single file with the only sound being the rustle of Ginger and Oreo's hoofs in the grass beside the macadam.

"What are we going to do?" Becky said.

"Don't have a clue. This case has so many problems."

Now it's a case, Becky thought to herself. "Well, I can see some of them, but give me your list anyway."

Amy Jo stood in her stirrups and stretched up. She didn't see any cars coming in either direction, so she fell back in line with Becky. "First, we have to justify staying in the house once we've delivered the newspaper. It's not going to be difficult to search Mrs. Martin's room, but how do we wander through the rest of the house without Alice wondering what we're up to? Mrs. Martin could pretend to ask us to look for something, but what's to prevent Alice from popping into the room in the middle of our search?"

"Maybe I could talk to Alice in the kitchen while you look."

"We'll use that strategy to get into the fireplace safe when she needs more money. Of course, if Alice runs an errand in town, we'd have more time to pound on the walls and floor, looking for the others." They rode in silence for a moment, then Amy Jo added, "I wonder if Miss Windle will come at the same time every day, because if she doesn't then she could surprise us when we're not expecting her."

"I'll keep a lookout at the front window while you search," Becky said.

"Another problem is that we don't know how many hiding places we're looking for, so we won't know when we've found them all."

Ginger always increased her pace as they neared the lane leading back to the barn, so Amy Jo took a firmer grasp of the reins. As they rode past her house, both girls admired the flower beds dotted throughout the lawn. "I told Mom I'd water the flowers before it gets too hot."

"I told my mom the same thing," Becky said. Then a thought occurred to her. "If we find the money boxes, how are we going to protect Mrs. Martin's money until she's on her feet again?"

"We'll ask your dad."

"Right. Dad will know what to do."

"Except Mrs. Martin didn't mention putting the thirty thousand dollars in the bank, so maybe we shouldn't tell your dad until we've had a chance to talk to her about it. Just like Chief Higgins said, it's Mrs. Martin's business what she does with her money."

"I don't like it." Becky sighed, then added, "Looks like we're on our own until she agrees to put her money in the bank."

Amy Jo dismounted, ran up the stirrups on both sides and loosened the girth. She followed Becky and Oreo into the barn, replaced the bridle with a halter and clipped it to crossties. "We've met Alice and Jack. No great personalities there."

"Miss Windle couldn't possibly be any worse."

But they were wrong about that, too.

## Chapter 11

With her thrusting lower jaw, short neck, and bulging eyes, Miss Windle was a female bulldog. She frequently foamed at the mouth, so a heavy-duty handkerchief was tucked in her belt. A white uniform covered her boxy figure and sturdy shoes concealed her equally sturdy feet. She was somewhere in her late fifties and not much taller than Amy Jo or Becky, but what she lacked in height she made up for in width and sheer bulk.

Miss Windle lumbered out the front door just as the girls arrived. "Too early for visitors!" she barked.

Becky jumped in before Amy Jo delivered a feisty comeback. "We deliver the newspaper along this street."

Miss Windle bared her teeth. "I won't have mindless, silly girls making my patient nervous and tired."

Amy Jo raised an eyebrow. "Do we look like. . ."

Becky cut in. "We are only here to deliver the newspaper."

"Give it to me," Miss Windle growled. "I'll see that she gets it."

Amy Jo thrust the paper behind her back, and with an official-sounding voice said, "Sorry, you're not the customer. Company rules."

"I never heard of a rule like that!"

"Well, you know how it is. Rules are rules," Amy Jo said.

Miss Windle snatched her handkerchief and wiped the corners of her mouth. Elbowing the girls to the side, she plodded down the steps, wagging her hindquarters from side to side as she made her way toward her car.

Amy Jo gave the door a healthy shove, but Becky caught it and shut it quietly. "We don't need more enemies around here."

"She couldn't hate us any more than she does now."

Becky looked through the side window. "Where is her car?"

"Maybe she parked it inside those trees over there."

Miss Windle took out several low-hanging branches as she back out an ancient Dodge. A clear piece of plastic kept in place by lengths of gorilla tape made do for the missing window on the passenger side. The car had rusted through in several spots, and the rear fender was crunched. But the entire thing disappeared as black smoke belched out of the exhaust when Miss Windle shifted into first gear.

"I think I know why she hid it," Amy Jo said.

"I never saw that kind of car before."

"I doubt if they make them anymore."

Alice was nowhere in sight, so the girls tiptoed up the steps and entered the room when they heard the faint sound of Mrs. Martin's voice.

Their friend smiled weakly as the girls approached. "It's my. . . dear papergirls," she mumbled through glazed eyes.

"How are you this morning, Mrs. Martin?" Becky said uncertainly.

Mrs. Martin yawned. "Not too bad, I'd say."

"You look tired," Amy Jo said.

Mrs. Martin blinked her eyes in slow motion. "What did you say, dear?"

Amy Jo tilted her head. "You look tired. Are you feeling all right?"

Mrs. Martin frowned. "Tired? Is that what you just said?"

"Yes."

"I am a little tired." Her eyes slid shut and she drifted into a light sleep.

"Is everything all right?" Becky said.

"Mm."

Amy Jo placed the newspaper on the night stand next to a tray holding bottles filled with pills. Her hand hovered over the largest one, then pulled back as her eyes fell on Mrs. Martin's purse. Looking pointedly at the purse, she turned to Becky.

Sighing, Becky nodded her head.

It was empty. Amy Jo frantically searched the interior of the purse. "It's missing!" she said with a shaky voice.

Becky's face fell. "Now I wish we hadn't. . ."

"I wish, too." Amy Jo cast a quick look at the dresser and raised an eyebrow in Becky's direction.

Becky firmly shook her head and nodded toward the door. But on the other side of the door stood Alice.

Alice carried a glass of water and a bottle of pills. She eyed them suspiciously while the girls eyed the bottle with equal suspicion. "How long have you been here?"

Becky hedged a bit. "Oh, not long."

"We just got here." Amy Jo grabbed Becky's arm. "And now we're leaving." She tried slipping past the housekeeper, but Alice blocked their way.

"I didn't see you come in." Alice was thin, but taller and stronger than the girls.

"Actually. . .we didn't see you either," Amy Jo said, hoping to get away with as little collateral damage as possible.

"Next time don't come up here without telling me you're here," Alice said firmly.

"Right. We'll let you know," Becky said.

Alice looked each girl in the eye before standing aside.

Ginger and Oreo neighed softly as the girls approached. Oreo reached forward, stretching her muzzle in Becky's direction. Absently, Becky stroked the sides of her pony's face, then buried her face in her mare's neck. "Why does she hate us?"

"Well, we don't like her too much either," Amy Jo said, sliding the reins over Ginger's head.

Oreo usually took a deep breath and blew out her stomach when her girth was tightened. She worried that her over-sized middle would get pinched in the process. It was a waiting game. When Oreo let out her breath, Becky slowly tightened the girth so the saddle wouldn't slip sideways.

"Somebody gave Mrs. Martin pills to make her sleepy before we got here," Amy Jo said bitterly.

"If that's true, why was Alice giving her more pills?"

Amy Jo snorted. "If you steal money out of her purse and look for hiding places in her room, you'd better make sure she's asleep first."

"You think Alice is the thief?"

Amy Jo shrugged as she drew her fingers through Ginger's mane. "She's the only one who actually lives here. On the other hand, Miss Windle is here everyday."

"Jack might have slipped inside and taken it."

"While Alice is in the kitchen? It's possible." Amy Jo was quiet as she snapped down the stirrups. "It's much easier if two people work together, but it's tricky when you have to trust somebody you just met. . .unless they knew each other before they got here. "

"Do you think Alice heard us talk about the missing money?"

"If she did, why didn't she say something? An honest person would jump in to defend herself or get to the bottom of it."

"Yesterday, returning the money seemed like the right thing to do," Becky said.

Amy Jo leaned her head against Ginger. "Now it's obvious. But at least we know how everything stands."

"What do you mean?"

Amy Jo slipped her foot into the stirrup and pulled herself onto the saddle, then drew back slightly on her reins to keep Ginger from moving forward. "Before, we worried that somebody might steal from her. Now we know it."

"And possibly two of them are working together."

"You're right, but does Mrs. Martin realize that her money is gone?"

Becky gathered her reins to mount her pony. "What if they hurt her trying to find the money?"

"No. I don't think that will happen."

"Why not!"

"They want to find it without getting caught. If they actually hurt her, somebody will come out and investigate."

Becky settled back in her saddle. "If she's hurt, the other two will call Chief Higgins."

"Right. It's in the thief's best interest to make sure Mrs. Martin stays healthy. If she ends up back in the hospital, all three of them will lose their jobs; then there's no chance of finding the money."

One hundred feet from the hitching post, Jack knelt in the ivy behind the shrubbery, trimming hedges. He hadn't heard their exact words, but it was obvious they were upset and talking in earnest.

The front door opened, and Alice walked down the steps. "Did you see those two girls?"

"Yeah, I saw them. Is something wrong?"

"I don't know yet. They might be a problem. We'll wait and see."

"Don't worry. I'm a good problem-solver."

Alice nodded and returned to the house.

## Chapter 12

It was a quiet ride home except for the steady rhythm of their ponies' hooves. At the beginning of their lane, Ginger and Oreo shifted left then lengthened their stride, which was checked when the girls automatically tightened the reins between their fingers. Their increased pace thwarted, the mares bobbed their heads slightly, knowing that hay, water, and carrots loomed just ahead.

"Now that we know there's a thief, what do we do?" Becky said.

"We'll set a trap."

"A trap? What kind of trap?"

Amy Jo took a deep breath. "Well, the money was stolen within twenty-four hours after we placed it in Mrs. Martin's purse. The thief might think that somehow the money will be replaced and try again."

Becky's expression was doubtful. "Mrs. Martin can barely get out of bed. How could she possibly replace the money?"

"She couldn't, but the thief doesn't know how Mrs. Martin gets her money. If the thief checked her purse once and took the money, why not look again? Maybe a visitor brings her money when she needs it."

Becky shrugged unconvinced. "I guess it's worth a try."

Amy Jo avoided eye contact as she halted Ginger in front of the barn. "Hopefully Mrs. Martin's asleep when we put the money in her purse tomorrow, or she'll wonder what we're doing."

Becky took off her hard hat, then drew her fingers through her dark brown hair, pulling it back into a ponytail. "Where are we going to get the money to use as bait?"

Amy Jo scrambled through her tack box, trying to remember what she was looking for.

"Where are we going to get the money?" Becky repeated, louder.

"We'll borrow from our savings."

"Use our own money as the bait?"

"Temporarily. And only until we catch the thief."

"What if we don't get it back?!"

Amy Jo lifted the saddle off Ginger's back, then looked at her friend in patient amusement. "We will get it back, because once our money is planted in Mrs. Martin's purse, we will stake out her house and watch it like a hawk."

Becky cocked her head and blinked. "Oh, fun. Just how I wanted to spend my free time, hiding across the street from Mrs. Martin's property."

"You can bring one of your five thousand books to read, while I sit with my binoculars, keeping the house under surveillance."

Becky struggled, sighed then caved. "The Cay is on our summer reading list. I'll take that along."

"A summer reading list. Just what I need in my life. I think I'll skip it. You can tell me what happens."

"I don't think so. You'll have to read it yourself."

"How long is it?"

"About one hundred forty pages."

"That's too long. They made a movie of it. I'll watch that."

Becky used a cloth to wipe the sweat off Oreo's saddle area. "They change things in movies, so you can't write a report by watching a DVD."

Amy Jo took another revolving pass through her tack box. "Did you take my brush?"

Becky gave Amy Jo one of her hazel-eyed looks that never required an answer.

"Just asking," Amy Jo said, then continued circulating through the tack box until she found it. "Can't you read The Cay out loud while I keep an eye on Mrs. Martin's house?"

"I'll think about it."

Amy Jo brushed the dust from Ginger's hair. "OK, you think about it."

Becky turned sideways and used her hoof pick for emphasis. "It's supposed to be a good book. Why don't you just read it yourself?"

"Why should I?"

"It's been done."

"Look at it this way. Who makes up these lousy reading lists? Teachers, right? Teachers just love to read, and they think everyone else should love to read, too."

"Look, I am not going to read The Cay to you. You are going to have to do it yourself."

"Fine."

Time to change the subject. "How long are we going to stake out Mrs. Martin's house?" Becky said.

"As long as it takes."

"That doesn't tell me anything. If we plant the money in Mrs. Martin's purse tomorrow and the next day it's gone, how are we going to know who took it?"

Amy Jo looked up from painting Ginger's hoofs with hoof oil. "I was wondering if you'd think of that."

"So, how are we going to find out?"

Amy Jo walked to Oreo's side and slung her arm over her back. "Look, there are serial numbers on paper money. You know, it's always written on the bottom right-hand corner."

"Yeah, I've seen it. There's a series of numbers and letters printed there."

"I'll take a black ink pen and color in all the zeroes so we can identify our money."

Becky widened her eyes. "Is that legal?"

"It's a lot more legal than stealing it. And if we catch the thief, we'll be heroes."

"If our money is taken from Mrs. Martin's purse, how do we find out who took it?"

"That's why both of us need to be there," Amy Jo said. "If somebody leaves while we're staking out the place, one of us will tail that person while the other one keeps the house under surveillance. If the person spends the marked money then that's the thief."

Becky's mouth dropped open. "You mean I'll either have to stake out the house all by myself or tail someone into Bedford all by myself?"

"Right, so take your pick. Doesn't matter to me."

Becky stared at her friend in sheer despair. "Of course it doesn't matter to you! You love this kind of stuff! But I don't want to do either one of those jobs by myself."

Amy Jo shrugged. "OK, so I'll tail the suspect who leaves the house and you take over the surveillance while I'm gone." She studied her friend's reaction to this offer. "What do you say?"

"Let's talk it over with Hank this afternoon."

Amy Jo raised her eyebrows. "Hank? You want to talk this whole thing over with Hank?"

"Yes. If he thinks it's a good idea then I'll do it."

Risky. But it was either discuss the strategy with Hank or face the real possibility of going it alone. "OK. We'll ride into Bedford and talk it over with Hank while we eat our ice cream."

## Chapter 13

At one thirty, the girls mounted their ponies and headed for The Coffee Bean, where Hank would cast his vote.

Amy Jo cast a sidelong glance at Becky. "Now, there's the tiniest possibility that Hank won't think this is a great idea. That doesn't mean we can't go ahead with it though."

Becky leaned forward and patted Oreo's neck.

"Right, Beck? We can still stake out Mrs. Martin's house and tail anyone who leaves it." Amy Jo readjusted her seat in the saddle. "Are you listening?"

"I'm merely thinking."

"Could you think out loud, so I can hear you?"

Becky arched her eyebrow as she turned to Amy Jo. "You're just afraid Hank will think it's a bad idea, so you're trying to squirm your way out of it. That's all"

"I am not squirming. I just think that he may have a. . .different opinion than we do."

"This is not a we thing, this is an Amy Jo thing."

"So, it's my idea. I also think it's the only way we can catch the thief and save Mrs. Martin from losing the rest of her money."

"Let's run it past Hank first. He might come up with something we haven't thought of yet."

Reluctantly, Amy Jo nodded her head. "Fair enough."

Once they settled the ponies in Hank's paddock, the girls marched down Center Street. Ginger and Oreo hung their heads over the top board, neighing softly, but the girls were too absorbed in their thoughts to hear them. The black and white pinto and the chestnut shook their heads and snorted, then ambled over to the shade of the trees.

Amy Jo stuffed her hands inside her jeans pockets, developing a defense strategy in case Hank trashed her idea. Suddenly, she stopped abruptly and Becky ran into her.

"Why'd you stop?" Becky demanded.

Amy Jo's throat tightened as she stared across the street. "It's him."

Becky frowned. "Who?"

"Dad's partner," Amy Jo said in a voice Becky had never heard before.

Becky saw a man in a wheelchair slowly making his way up Main Street. Someone opened the door to the post office and he wheeled himself inside.

Amy Jo had been awakened in the middle of the night to hear that her dad had just been killed by a gunman, but that his partner, Sergeant Paulson, had survived. Seeing the sergeant generated the same reaction as watching the blood-red Brink's truck lumber down Main Street every week. The Brink's robbery had been the cause of the investigation and the source of the ambush. This was the first time she'd actually seen the sergeant since he'd moved back to Bedford. When he lived in Springfield, she could pretend he didn't exist.

"He's been in town for two weeks now, but you still don't want to see him, do you?"

Amy Jo looked in the opposite direction. "No."

"It's a small town," Becky said softly. "You'll have to face him sometime."

Amy Jo glared in return. "No, I don't. I don't ever have to see him if I don't want to."

Becky waited several seconds, then said, "Let's see Hank."

Hank stood at the window, where he'd witnessed the entire episode. "Hi, girls," he said as he studied Amy Jo.

Becky glanced at her friend before responding. "Hi, Hank."

Amy Jo climbed onto her regular stool but continued to look out the window, while Hank made his way behind the counter.

Hank flipped up the ice cream lids. "Same as usual?"

"Yes, please," Becky said.

Hank leaned over the counter toward his young friend. "A. J.?"

Amy Jo looked over vacantly.

"Do you want butter pecan?"

Amy Jo dropped her eyes to the counter. "Yes," she whispered.

After Hank set Becky's ice cream in front of her, she said, "Do you remember that Mrs. Martin gave us one hundred dollars to keep while she was in the hospital?"

"Sure, I remember."

Becky cast another quick look at Amy Jo. "Well, you'll never believe what happened. We put the money back in her purse yesterday, but this morning it was missing."

"Missing?" Hank said. "Could she have put it somewhere else?"

"No. She still can't get out of bed by herself."

Hank crossed his arms and frowned. "Do you think somebody working for her took it?"

When Amy Jo failed to jump in, Becky continued. "Alice, Jack, or Miss Windle are the only ones who had the opportunity."

"I know Social Services at the hospital hired these people, but just what do they do there?"

"Well, Alice cleans the house and gets Mrs. Martin's meals, Jack does odd jobs outside, and Miss Windle is the physical therapist."

"What do you think about all this, A. J.?" Hank asked. "A. J.?"

Amy Jo looked up. "What?"

"What are you going to do about Mrs. Martin's problem?"

Amy Jo roused herself, looked at her ice cream and took a bite. "Uh, well, I was thinking that Beck and I could pool our money and put it in Mrs. Martin's purse as a trap."

"A trap?"

"Yeah. We could take a black ink pen and mark in all the zeroes of the serial number and place them back in Mrs. Martin's purse."

Hank nodded encouragingly. "How would you know who stole it?"

Amy Jo's face lost some of its pallor. "Beck and I will hide behind the trees and shrubs across the street from Mrs. Martin's house. Then, when somebody leaves, one of us will hop on our pony and tail that person into Bedford—at a safe distance, of course."

"Naturally," Hank agreed. "Nothing worse than getting caught tailing the suspect."

"Exactly. If the person spends the marked money, then we've caught our thief."

Hank nodded his head in admiration, while the cautious side of his mind evaluated pitfalls. "You'll be in a public place if you catch the thief, so there's not much danger there."

"I thought the same thing."

"If you spot the marked money, it would be better to call in Chief Higgins rather than apprehend the criminal yourself."

"Definitely!" Becky said. "No reason to risk getting hurt."

Hank turned sideways, leaned against the counter and crossed his feet. "So, who's going to stay at the scene, and who's going to tail the suspect into town?"

Amy Jo looked at Becky. "I'll tail the suspect and you stay at the scene."

"That's what I'd rather do."

Hank drew in his lips as he continued to think. "My shop is right in the middle of town. You could pop your head around the corner and let me know you're tailing someone, then I could be on stand-by if you need help."

Amy Jo raised her eyebrows. "That's a great idea. Thanks!"

The girls finished their ice cream and slid off their stools while Hank dipped up two cones for the mares waiting for their treats in the paddock.

Hank resumed his stance at the window and watched the girls round the corner onto Center Street. In his heart, he hoped the money hadn't been stolen. Perhaps Alice used it to purchase household needs. Drawing his hand over his head, he evaluated the girls' strategy. It was probably harmless. And it would give Amy Jo something to occupy her mind.

Beyond that, Hank was saddened to see his young friend so bitterly depressed when she spotted the sergeant. To a certain extent, it was understandable. Amy Jo and her father had been very close. They'd created a lab in their basement and talked about detective strategies even before Amy Jo entered first grade. Sighing, he retraced his steps behind the counter.

## Chapter 14

Amy Jo fidgeted with her reins until Becky had reached her limit. "Ginger's probably sick of that. What's the matter?"

Amy Jo heaved a sigh. "Look, Beck, how much cash do you have at home?"

"About sixty dollars."

"So, if I add forty that makes a hundred."

"Did you really think I'd buy that idea? We put in the same amount! I put in fifty; you put in fifty."

"Yeah, well. I was going to buy a saddle pad."

"And I was going to buy some stuff for Oreo, too. So we're even."

Amy Jo winced. "You're right. We'll both put in the same amount," she said, then added, "Are you going to tell your mom and dad about the marked money?"

Becky dismounted and looked at Amy Jo before running up the stirrups and leading Oreo into the barn. She was quiet, and for once, Amy Jo didn't rush her. "They'd probably understand, but you tell your mom everything. My parents are more like. . .well, parents. They're really great, and they don't ask me what I do with my money, but I don't think I'll say anything, especially since this is just a loan."

After the ponies were turned out in the paddock, Amy Jo and Becky quietly went through the barn routine. They picked out the wet straw and fluffed up what was left, then tossed flakes of hay in the back corner of the stall. The dirty water was pitched outside the paddock door and the buckets refilled with fresh water.

The girls leaned on opposite sides of the door leading to the paddock and watched their ponies with unseeing eyes.

"I'll come back later with my share and we can fill in the zeroes," Amy Jo said quietly.

"Around seven or eight?"

"About then." Amy Jo followed Becky onto the gravel driveway that separated the house from the barn. "Don't worry, Beck, we'll catch the thief and get our money back in no time."

Becky dug a hole in the gravel with the toe of her paddock boot. "I hope you're right."

"About getting the money back?" When Becky nodded, Amy Jo said, "Have I ever failed you? Never mind. Don't worry, Beck. We will not lose the money."

Becky sighed. "I should be worrying about Mrs. Martin. She could lose everything."

Amy Jo plowed through the kitchen door. "Mom!"

"I'm in my office," said Evelyn Ryan. When Amy Jo collapsed in the corner chair, she took a break from her client's graphic arts project. "You're out of breath. Is anything wrong?"

"I'll say," Amy Jo said, leaning her elbows on her knees. "You know how Beck and I took the money back to Mrs. Martin's house yesterday?"

"Yes. I took it out of my desk and gave it to you."

"Well, it's gone."

Mrs. Ryan raised her eyebrows. "Are you suggesting that somebody took it?"

"Yes! When Beck and I delivered the paper this morning. . .and I'll tell you something else, Mom, Mrs. Martin could not stay awake."

Mrs. Ryan was accustomed to her daughter completely changing the subject mid-sentence. "How was she yesterday?"

"She wasn't sleepy at all! Today, she couldn't keep her eyes open. Yesterday, she could answer questions. Today, she was completely confused."

"How do you mean?"

Amy Jo drew in her breath. "I had to ask her the same question twice just seconds apart, because she couldn't remember what I said. Stuff like that."

"Sounds like Mrs. Martin was drowsier than she was yesterday."

"A lot more! But it's the missing money that I'm worried about."

Mrs. Ryan crossed her arms, knowing there would be a plan. "What are you going to do?"

"Well, Beck and I are going to use our own money as bait. We'll mark the zeroes with black ink so we can tell ours apart. After we put it in her purse tomorrow, we'll stake out the house across the street. If somebody leaves, I'll follow them into Bedford, and Beck will keep the house under surveillance while I'm gone. If any of the marked money is spent, we'll know that we've caught the thief." Amy Jo sat back and waited for her mother to expose any flaws in her plan.

Mrs. Ryan nodded as she thought of any unforeseen problems that might arise. "OK," she said slowly. "What are you going to do if the person you tail does have the money you marked?"

"Hank said to stop by and let him know that I'm tailing someone. He'll be my backup. Then I'll get Chief Higgins or Officer Allen, and they'll take over. So, don't worry, Mom, I'll be all right." Her mother swung her chair sideways and focused on the picture of Detective Ryan. . .not a good sign. "Mom, Beck is going to pack some food tomorrow, and I'm supposed to bring something to drink. Do we have anything I can take?"

Mrs. Ryan turned around. "There are boxes of fruit juice," she said, then stood and followed her daughter into the kitchen.

Amy Jo put the kettle of water on the stove to boil. "Oh, Mom, you should have seen this Jack character. He's a total piece of work."

Mrs. Ryan took out teacups and saucers from the cupboard. "He's the handyman, right?"

"Yeah. He's one of the suspects in the case."

"What was he like?"

Amy Jo set a small pitcher of milk on the round table located in a bay window overlooking the backyard. "When we tried to talk to him, he wouldn't even look at us!"

"Not a good sign."

Amy Jo continued conspiratorially, "Then this letter fell out of his pocket, and it was from some woman in Virginia."

"Virginia? Did he come all that way just to take this job?"

Amy Jo lifted the lid on the kettle to see if the water was boiling, then turned to grin at her mother. "Not sure yet, but the letter smelled like perfume."

Mrs. Ryan smiled as well. "Sounds like a girlfriend."

"Get this. Her name is Angela Ashbury. Beck says it has a movie star ring to it."

"Maybe Jack needs to make money to impress this girl."

Amy Jo poured boiling water into the teapot. "I never thought of that. So, there's a motive right there, Mom."

"I don't want to accuse an innocent man, but you should keep things like that in mind with all three of these people. Motive is a huge reason for anything, and one of them might need money badly enough to steal. I'm sure the agency checked these people out before they sent them to Edith Martin's house, but they can't know everything about them." She poured milk into both teacups, then added tea. "Just be careful who you ask."

"I'll be careful, Mom, but we have to protect Mrs. Martin until we find her hidden money or until she remembers where it is."

"Do you know the chief's number in case you need to call him from Edith's house?"

"I've known it by heart since I was in third grade."

Mrs. Ryan nibbled on a cookie and sipped tea while she walked through any more potential problems. "If you tail the person too closely, and he sees you, he may just get rid of the money."

"Hank thought of that, too. I'll definitely follow at a distance."

Mrs. Ryan poured a second cup of tea from the teapot. "Make sure there's always someone around. You never know how people will react if they feel trapped and there's nothing to lose."

"Right, I don't want to get caught alone with the thief." Amy Jo took their tea things to the sink and rinsed them out before heading for the stairs to get her cash. Suddenly, she turned around and hugged her mother. "Thanks for everything, Mom."

"You're welcome, dear," Mrs. Ryan said softly, then sighed as she listened to her daughter climb the stairs.

## Chapter 15

Wednesday morning, the old clunker wasn't concealed inside the trees.

"Miss Windle's car isn't here," Becky said

"Maybe she's been here and gone already, or maybe the old Dodge has suffered enough," Amy Jo said. "Either that or she's on her way."

"All the more reason to put the money in her purse and get out of here," Becky said as they dismounted and trotted up the steps. "I think we'd better ring the doorbell today."

"Right."

Alice opened the door about two feet. "Yes?"

Amy Jo and Becky stepped forward, but Alice refused to give way.

"We need to give Mrs. Martin her paper," Amy Jo said.

Alice held out her hand. "I'll give it to her."

The strategy used the first day wouldn't work. "Well. . .we can't do that," Amy Jo said.

Alice raised her eyebrow and cocked her Siren Red head. "And just why not?"

Amy Jo glanced at Becky, who also wondered "why not". Looking Alice square in the eye, she said, "We're collecting money from our customers today and Mrs. Martin doesn't like to be late."

Alice's eyebrow remained arched as she widened the door. "OK, but make it short."

The girls bolted through the door and made their way up the stairs.

Becky gathered the older lady's cold, lifeless hand and rubbed it between her own warmer ones. "How are you today, Mrs. Martin?" But she didn't respond.

"Mrs. Martin, can you hear me?" Amy Jo said, inches from her ear. When there was no response, she placed the money inside the empty wallet. The mystery of the pill bottles still plagued her. As she picked up one, the doorknob silently turned. They raced across the room, then slowed to a walk as Alice opened the door.

"She's asleep," Becky whispered.

"We'll try again tomorrow."

The girls ran quietly down the stairs and across the hallway, then slowed their pace as they neared Ginger and Oreo.

Ginger reached out to Amy Jo as she drew near. Stroking her mare's neck, Amy Jo said, "There's no doubt this time. Somebody's drugged her."

"It must be Alice, because she's with her all the time."

"We can't be sure it's Alice. Miss Windle may have already been here. She was just leaving yesterday morning when we arrived, and Mrs. Martin got sleepier the longer we stayed in her room."

Becky drew the reins over Oreo's head. "Does that make Jack completely innocent?"

Ginger pawed the ground, eager to go home as Amy Jo slipped her foot into the stirrup and pulled herself onto the saddle. "No. He might eat his meals in the house and is probably in and out of the house throughout the day. Unless," Amy Jo said softly to herself.

"Unless what?"

Amy Jo shook her head. "That would be so way over the top."

"Over the top of what?"

"Nobody would do that."

"Do what?!"

Amy Jo jumped and looked over at her friend. "Switch the pills in the bottle for something that would make Mrs. Martin sleepy."

Becky's eyes widened as she sat up straighter in her saddle. "You can't be serious."

"It's just a thought and I have absolutely no proof. Alice is the logical one to make the switch. But maybe somebody else switched the pills Dr. Murphy prescribed and it only looks like Alice is guilty. "

"Maybe Dr. Murphy gave her something that makes her sleepy."

Amy Jo gave her friend a sly look. "She didn't."

"How could you possibly know?"

"Because I asked Dr. Murphy about it yesterday."

Becky's eyebrows shot up. "You called Dr. Murphy just to ask her about Mrs. Martin?"

"Even I wouldn't do that. I saw Dr. Murphy when Mom and I were at the grocery store."

"She told you that she hadn't given Mrs. Martin anything that would make her sleepy?"

"I didn't ask her about Mrs. Martin. I knew she'd never tell me anything about a patient of hers," Amy Jo said. "I just asked her about medication for a person who's had a stroke."

"So, Mrs. Martin shouldn't be sleepy."

"Dr. Murphy said that high blood pressure medication sometimes makes a person sleepy, but medication after a stroke shouldn't do that. Mrs. Martin mentioned one time that she doesn't have high blood pressure. That's why I think somebody gave her something to make her conveniently sleepy."

"So, the house can be searched."

"Right. The question is, which person is doing it?"

"I know," Becky said. "That's the mystery."

Amy Jo lay down on Ginger's neck, giving her pony a comforting hug. She drifted into a light sleep as her faithful mare carried her toward home. Hearing the crunch of gravel as Ginger turned into the lane, she sat up and yawned. "We'll pack our lunches and stake out Mrs. Martin's house the rest of the day."

Becky refrained from drooping her shoulders. A deal was a deal. "All right, but let's do our barn work first, then we'll go."

Amy Jo slowly blinked her eyes and turned to Becky. "Barn work? You think doing barn work is more important than catching Mrs. Martin's thief?"

"No. I don't think it's more important, but nobody is going to burst into Mrs. Martin's room and steal the money in the next hour. If we don't muck out the stalls, clean the water buckets, and sweep the aisles now, when do you think we'll do it?"

Amy Jo winced. "All right. Barn work first. I just hope we're not making a colossal mistake."

## Chapter 16

Amy Jo peered through her binoculars at Mrs. Martin's property. "What's happening in the book?"

"The mother and her son are on a ship sailing back to the United States, because they're afraid there'll be another attack."

"An attack?"

"Yeah. It's World War II, and they're living on an island off the coast of Venezuela. An oil refinery was blown up by a torpedo, so some of the people are leaving the island."

"Venezuela," murmured Amy Jo. "That's on the north coast of South America, right?"

Becky looked up in surprise. "Right."

"That'd be scary. I mean, there you are thinking a submarine might sink your ship with a torpedo. You'd be hanging over the rail every second, looking for a line of ripples in the water. I wonder if they slept in their life jackets."

"It doesn't say," Becky said as she studied Amy Jo. Her friend was an interesting combination of not wanting to read, yet often thought outside the box during book discussions.

Amy Jo drew the binoculars to her eyes again. Some of the property was hidden by trees, but the most important area was the driveway so she could observe people coming and going.

Jack was mowing the side lawn. "I wonder if Jack's been in the house today." He got off the mower long enough to dump the cut grass onto a compost pile. "Can't see him anymore. He's moved behind the house now."

"Doesn't get more exciting than watching Jack cut the grass."

"Being a detective is not about excitement. It's about being patient so we catch the criminal."

"I know. I'm just being testy."

Sighing, Amy Jo plastered her eyes to the binoculars again.

It was the car belching and backfiring that advertised Miss Windle's arrival. The sorry old Dodge jerked, jumped, and nearly stalled as the therapist downshifted to negotiate the turn into Mrs. Martin's driveway.

Becky cackled. "The wicked witch of the west has arrived."

Amy Jo turned slowly around with eyebrows raised. "Why, Beck, I can't believe you'd use such an ugly name for that nice lady."

"Are you serious? I'm being generous."

"She totally deserves Alice and Jack. They all deserve each other. I never met three people so bent on being disliked."

"It's a contest," Becky said.

"Yeah, and everybody's tied for first place." Amy Jo returned to her binoculars. "So what's happening now?"

"The boat got hit with a torpedo."

Amy Jo swung around. "The boat didn't sink, did it?"

"Yep."

"The mother and son didn't drown, did they?"

"Haven't gotten that far yet."

"Maybe there'll be a chunk that breaks off from the ship, and they can float on that until they're rescued. Or maybe they're wearing life preservers and can float until somebody spots them," Amy Jo said. Then another thought occurred to her. "They didn't say anything about sharks, did they?"

"Look. . ."

Amy Jo put up her hands. "OK, I know what you're going to say. I will definitely read the book. . .sometime. And I will not bother you about it anymore."

"Good."

Within minutes of settling in with her binoculars, Amy Jo saw the old Dodge bravely negotiate the turn before heading toward Bedford. "Beck! She's only been there a few minutes and she's leaving already!"

Becky grabbed Ginger's saddle and saddle pad. "You'll never catch up with her! That wreck crawls along, but you've only got Ginger! What if she's just driving through town rather than stopping somewhere?"

Amy Jo slid the bit between Ginger's teeth, drew the bridle over the pony's ears, and buckled both straps. "Maybe it'll break down and she'll be forced to stop."

Becky tightened the girth under Ginger's belly. "I think that falls under the category of wishful thinking. Anyway, what if somebody else leaves?"

"I'll be back as soon as I can. Hand me the empty bucket and I'll get more water for the ponies before I come back."

After a quick leg up, Becky ran ahead and held back a sagging tree branch. "Good luck."

"Thanks," Amy Jo said, then ducked her head as Ginger trotted out of the hideout. As soon as the mare hit the grassy side of the street, Amy Jo nudged her pony into a canter for the quarter mile into town. She drew back to a walk as she spotted Miss Windle's car parked outside The Coffee Bean. This was an unbelievable piece of luck. On the other hand, maybe her old Dodge died and it just happened in front of Hank's shop. Amy Jo reined Ginger left onto Center Street. Instead of untacking her pony and shoving her into the paddock, Amy Jo drew Ginger into the shade, placed a halter over her bridle, attached a lead rope and tied the other end to the fence. She flew down Center Street, slowing to a casual walk as she came level with The Coffee Bean's window. She strolled into the coffee shop and spotted Miss Windle in the second booth, rooting around in her purse's interior.

Amy Jo bit her lip as she stared at the back of Miss Windle's head. She walked partway past her booth, then casually turned her head. "Oh, Miss Windle, having a cup of coffee?" she asked, looking deliberately at the opposite empty booth seat.

Miss Windle snapped her purse shut, moved it to the inside of the booth, then covered it with her napkin. "No!" she barked, then cleared her throat. "Well, yes."

What a performance. Amy Jo avoided eyeing the purse by steadying her gaze on Miss Windle's face. "Come here often?" she asked, looking again at the empty seat.

"No," Miss Windle said stiffly, then turned her attention to the menu.

Amy Jo had been dismissed. Pivoting on her heel, she headed for the counter and her usual seat. It was eleven o'clock, so the lunch crowd hadn't arrived yet. She waited until Hank came out of the back carrying a bag of coffee beans. "Hi, Hank!" she called.

Hank looked at his young friend, glanced at the clock and raised his eyebrows. Something was up. He walked quickly to the counter. "What is it?"

"We staked out the house, and that old geezer in the second booth is Miss Windle. She should have been at Mrs. Martin's house for an hour, but she left after a few minutes. Now we're wondering if she found the money and took off."

Hank allowed his eyes to drift subtly around the room, taking in the customer in the second booth. "Yeah, I see her. So you put the marked money in Edith's purse this morning?"

"Right."

"Miss Windle is the first to leave the property since you did that?"

"Well, we can't be absolutely sure. We had to go home and do our barn work, so there was about an hour that someone could have taken it and left before we got back."

Hank nodded. "You want me to keep an eye on her?"

"I need to get back, but if she pays with marked money, will you let me know?"

"I'll let you know." Hank filled a mug with coffee, but added in a low voice, "Even if she took the marked money, she may not use it to pay for her coffee."

Amy Jo grimaced. "You're right. Well, thanks for your help."

Hank waved with his free hand as Amy Jo left his shop, then sighed as he watched her round the corner. Maybe A. J. was right about the money being stolen. Shaking his head, he delivered the coffee to his customer, then approached Miss Windle to take her order.

## Chapter 17

Amy Jo ambled along the sidewalk until she rounded the corner, then barreled down Center Street, skidding to a stop a dozen feet from Ginger.

With a flick of her wrist, she untied Ginger's lead and led her to the water trough, where the mare drank deeply. Her thirst quenched, the pony stared longingly at the grass under the tree. But as soon as Amy Jo replenished the water in the bucket, she balanced it on the corner of the trough, mounted, grabbed the bucket and left the paddock.

Amy Jo guided Ginger through the brush, then reined her in next to Oreo. The ponies touched noses and neighed softly. Dismounting with a partially filled bucket of water was not easy. "Grab this, Beck."

Oreo stretched toward the water bucket, making the effort of lugging it worth the struggle.

"What happened?"

"Ha!" Amy Jo shook out her tired arm, then slid to the ground. She debated whether to untack completely or just loosen the girth. Even in the shade, sweat seeped underneath Ginger's saddle pad, so the saddle had to come off. "Miss Windle stopped at Hank's shop for coffee, so I didn't have far to go."

"Find out anything?"

"Nothing as in nada. I practically invited myself to sit across from her, but she didn't take the bait. I'll tell you what though. She acted guilty as sin."

Becky raised her eyebrows.

"She rooted around in her purse, looking for something until she saw me. Then she whipped it to the other side of the booth and covered it with a napkin."

Becky laughed. "Covered it with her napkin? As if that's going to hide anything. How will we know whether she uses the marked money?"

"Hank is on the lookout."

"Nothing happened while you were gone," Becky said. "Jack's painting again."

"Don't worry, Beck: we will catch this thief and get every penny of our money back, and Mrs. Martin's money, too."

"I know. I'm being totally selfish, and there's Mrs. Martin worried about losing every cent she has in the world. I just wonder how long we're going to have to sit here."

"Dad used to say stake-outs were a combination of total boredom when nothing was happening and absolute terror if something bad came down."

"We've got the 'total boredom' covered," Becky said. "Absolute fear? You don't think one of them might hurt us, do you?"

"What would they gain by beating up a couple of kids?"

"I guess you're right."

Amy Jo picked up the binoculars. "Why don't you read your book, and I'll keep a look out for a while." She scanned the entire yard before rolling over on her back. Drawing her ankle over her knee, she unzipped her paddock boot, yawned then unzipped the other one. The leaves overhead swayed slightly in the breeze, but the air was dead where she lay. Two squirrels fussed overhead. One leaped to the next tree, closely followed by the second one. They scrambled around the tree, climbing higher and higher. She smiled lazily at how fearlessly they raced to the top. She blinked her eyes slowly as the squirrels jumped to yet another tree.

"Amy Jo!"

Amy Jo jolted to a sitting position and looked wide-eyed at Becky. "What?"

"Shh!"

"What's the matter?"

Becky crept over to her friend's side. "Somebody's walking along the side of the road."

Amy Jo pushed aside the low-hanging branches. "It's Alice. Why is she walking into town?"

"Probably doesn't have a car."

"Well, there's no rush to get Ginger ready," Amy Jo yawned as she rose to her feet.

Becky smoothed down the saddle pad over Ginger's back, then cast a quick glance at her friend. "How are you going to keep her from seeing you?"

"I'll be careful. Even if she sees me, she'll think I'm just running an errand for Mom."

They walked Ginger to the edge of the overhanging branches and peered through. Alice was well ahead of them now.

Becky gave Amy Jo a leg up, then looked up searchingly. "Be careful."

Amy Jo regretted repeating her dad's comments about stake-outs. "Don't worry, Beck. This is a total piece of cake."

Nodding, Becky gave Ginger a final pat. "I'll see you later."

Amy Jo held Ginger to a walk until she saw Alice walk into Diana's Dress Shop. Signaling Ginger to trot, she rounded Center Street and drew to a halt at the gate. This time, she took off the saddle and bridle and led Ginger into the paddock.

Ginger's ears came forward as she looked around. She pressed against the fence, thrusting her head over the top, and peered both ways down Center Street. She'd never stayed in this paddock by herself before and neighed softly several times before ramping up the volume.

Amy Jo ran back to the fence, hopped onto the bottom rung, and spoke soothingly while she untangled Ginger's unruly mane. "Oreo couldn't come this time. You're going to be alone for a little while, but you'll be all right. Now, just walk over to the tree and eat some nice grass, and I'll be back soon."

When Amy Jo disappeared around the corner, Ginger flashed her ears back and forth several times and cast one more look down Center Street before turning toward the trees.

Amy Jo bolted into The Coffee Bean and ran up to the cash register where Hank was ringing up a customer. Her eyes flicked up to the clock. It was three already. She stepped to the window, where she focused on the front window of the shop door.

After the customer left, Amy Jo said, "Alice is in Diana's Dress Shop, so I'm heading there right now."

"Right. I'll keep an eye on you from here."

"Thanks." When Amy Jo reached the door, she turned back. "Did Miss Windle use any of the marked money?"

Hank frowned sympathetically. "No."

"Rats!" Amy Jo crashed through the door and ran across the street. She eased up to the edge of the store window and cupped both hands against the glass to peer inside. Diana was hanging dresses on a circular rack, but Alice was nowhere in sight. Where was she? When Diana disappeared into the back, Amy Jo soundlessly opened the front door and slipped inside, then relaxed when she heard the two women talking.

Diana's Dress Shop was small but elegant. Racks of dresses and women's sportswear lined both sides of the wall, with several circular racks arranged in the middle. Dressing rooms were in the back. Standing on either side of the hallway leading back to the dressing rooms were two sets of three-way mirrors.

Evelyn Ryan shopped here, and occasionally Amy Jo tagged along. But Diana didn't carry kids' clothes, so what excuse could she offer for being here? Should she hide? Maybe she should wait outside. Suddenly, she heard the dressing room door open and two sets of footsteps coming down the hallway. Diana murmured encouraging words as they walked closer to the front of the store.

Amy Jo did not want Alice connecting any dots that would suggest her being anything but a horsey girl delivering newspapers. In three seconds, Alice and Diana would see her. She gave the door a quick glance, but it was too late to make a run for it even if she wanted to escape.

## Chapter 18

Amy Jo's search ended at the circular dress rack. She stepped inside, pulling the dresses together behind her. It was safe here. Except she'd have to remain until the shop was empty or feel like a complete idiot stammering out an explanation. A three-year-old could get away with it, but at twelve it just wasn't done.

"The color brings out the highlights in your hair," Diana said as the two women made their way down the hall.

The dress must be fire-engine red then, Amy Jo thought. I wonder if it brings out the highlights in her siren-red eyebrows as well.

Alice studied her reflection in the mirror. "Yes, I see what you mean."

Amy Jo peered between two dresses. It was the housekeeper's voice all right, but this new improved version of Alice was nearly unrecognizable. The color of her hair didn't explode as much. The eyebrows were still a challenge.

"How much is it?" Alice said.

"It's on sale for fifty dollars."

"Well, that's a little more than I can afford."

"I have some sale items you can try on."

Amy Jo held her breath as Diana fingered dresses two feet from her hiding place. Mercifully, she changed her mind and grabbed several from a nearby rack.

When Alice returned to the front of the three-way mirror, she tilted her head and looked at the lines of the dress from the front, then smoothed down the dress with both hands, pivoted, and caught the effect from the back. She leaned in and studied her reflection in the mirror. Folding her lips inward, she took her ring finger and brushed away a flake of lipstick clinging to the edge of her mouth.

Amy Jo studied Alice from the tiny hole inside the circular rack. She's not bad-looking without that scowl. But why is she so nice to Diana and a complete witch with Beck and me?

Diana stepped out from behind the counter. "What do you think?"

"How much is this one?"

"That one is thirty dollars."

"OK, I'll take it."

"Good choice."

As Alice retreated to the dressing room, Amy Jo's mind raced. How could she witness the exchange of money and still maintain her cover? The circular rack was next to the check-out counter, but Alice would stand between Amy Jo and the cash register when the transaction was rung up. Why hadn't she waited outside until now? She should have stood at the window then popped through the door at just the right minute as if she were making a friendly call on Diana. Of course, she'd never visited Diana before, so it would definitely look weird.

Beads of sweat trickled down the sides of Amy Jo's face as Alice dug out her billfold. If she stood on the bottom bar of the rack, she could peer over her shoulder. Would she be able to see whether the zeroes had been inked in? What other options did she have? In sixty seconds, Alice would pay for that dress and leave, and her opportunity would be lost.

Amy Jo slid her foot onto the rung. She soundlessly scooted dresses aside, placed her hands on the top bar, then drew up her second foot, still keeping her head below Diana's field of vision. She peered over Alice's shoulder as she handed Diana the money, but Alice's thumb covered the serial numbers! There would only be a fraction of a second from the time Alice released the money until it ended up in the cash register. She stretched up then leaned forward. Diana took hold of the money and placed it into the cash register. In seconds, the cash register would close. When Amy Jo pressed against the bar, the law of nature prevailed and the entire rack tipped over and crashed down four feet from Alice's feet.

Alice gasped and stepped back.

Amy Jo lay absolutely still, hoping Diana would finish her business with Alice first. Pressing duties would take Diana out of the room long enough for Amy Jo to exit before the store owner knew she'd had anything to do with this disaster.

But no. At that very second, Diana's heels clipped on the tile floor as she came around the corner, glaring at one particularly large heap. "Amy Jo," she said calmly, flicking back her blond hair with a toss of her head. "I'm sure you have a very good explanation. You usually do."

"Well, I did make sort of a mess here, didn't I?" Amy Jo said, looking at the jumble of dresses scattered around her.

Diana placed her hands on her slender hips. "Oh, it's a mess, all right."

Amy Jo hopped up and stepped over to the counter. "Nice dress," she said to Alice.

Alice stared at the young girl fingering the dress.

"Yep, that's a good color for your, uh. . .hair and all," Amy Jo said, transferring her gaze to the open cash register.

"Thanks," Alice said, connecting the unfortunate dots. "Aren't you the papergirl?"

"Papergirl?" Amy Jo looked over her shoulder at the door. "Am I the papergirl? Well, actually I am."

And at that exact second, Diana stepped behind the counter and gave the cash register drawer a little shove. And in slow motion it closed. . .and locked.

Amy Jo shut her eyes and her head sank.

Diana brought out a bag and tissue paper, neatly folded the dress and placed it inside the bag while pointedly ignoring Amy Jo. She smiled and thanked Alice, then escorted her to the door. "I apologize for the disturbance, but I know you'll love wearing the dress."

"Yes, I really like it. Thanks for your help."

Diana turned on her heels, surveyed the mass of dresses on the floor, and stifled a laugh. She fashioned her face into some semblance of a scowl, then walked back to the counter. Folding her arms in front of her, she said, "OK, let's hear it."

Amy Jo rotated her eyes to the left side of their sockets. "Well, it's Mom's birthday soon, you see. Well, it's pretty soon anyway."

Diana cut her off. "I'm not having it."

"You're not?"

"No."

Amy Jo paused, then looked up to meet Diana's golden eyes. "Beck and I are working on a case."

Diana's gaze shot back and forth between Amy Jo's eyes. "Is that the truth? You're working on a case?"

Amy Jo looked steadily at Diana. "Yes. It's absolutely the truth. We're working on a case, and that's why I'm here."

"Involving the woman who just left?"

"Well, I can't really say anything about the case yet."

Diana continued to stare at Amy Jo. "All right. I believe you. I have work to do in the back, so you clean up this mess while I'm gone."

"Yes, ma'am." After the door closed, Amy Jo leaped around the counter and dug at the edges of the cash register, but the door refused to budge. The face of the cash register was a mass of numbers and words fixed on small keys. Pressing one might open it. . .or set off an alarm. Gritting her teeth, she turned away and tackled the pile she'd created. All was in place when she heard the clip-clop of Diana's heels walking toward the front.

Diana nodded, then used the tips of her fingers to adjust a few of the dresses. "I suppose I'll hear all about this case at some point."

"I promise to tell you when it's over." Amy Jo cast a hopeful glance at the cash register. Maybe Diana would allow a quick peek. However, leaks occur when too many people know the details of a case. Diana was not a gossip. But Mrs. Martin's problem was on a need-to-know basis, and Diana didn't need to know at this point. "Is it all right if I leave now?"

"Yes. Run along." Diana walked to the door and held it open. "Good luck with your case. And try to stay out of trouble."

Partway out the door, Amy Jo looked up with a half-smile. "Thanks, Diana." She leaned against the brick wall outside the shop, then looked across the street at Hank peering through his window. After she shrugged her shoulders and gave him the thumbs-down signal, Hank nodded and stepped away to wait on a customer.

Amy Jo strolled aimlessly until instinct brought her to the Bedford Police Station.

## Chapter 19

Chief Higgins sat at the front desk, jabbing at the keyboard with his index fingers. He stopped, grimaced, and hit the delete button several times.

Amy Jo hopped up on the side of the desk, swinging her legs over the edge. "Need any help?"

Chief Higgins adjusted his glasses before glancing at Amy Jo. "This has to go out today and Maggie is sick."

"Yeah, I know how you feel," Amy Jo sighed deeply.

The chief shifted his position and studied the daughter of his deceased friend. "A little down in the dumps today?"

"Beck and I are working on a case, and we're having a problem right now."

Chief Higgins turned decidedly away from the computer. "What's wrong?"

"Just before the ambulance took Mrs. Martin to the hospital, she gave us one hundred dollars from her purse to keep until she got home."

"I'm listening, go on."

"She was worried about something, but she couldn't remember what it was."

"That happens a lot with stroke victims."

"Now she remembers."

"Is it something I should know?"

"Mrs. Decker was right. All Mrs. Martin's money is hidden throughout her house, but she can't remember where any of the hiding places are."

Chief Higgins pulled his mouth into a thin line. "I've warned her about that for years. I worried something like this might happen."

Amy Jo looked at the chief in surprised amusement. He knew about Mrs. Martin's money the entire time he spoke with Mrs. Decker and never said a word.

"Anything else?"

Amy Jo placed her hands on the desk and leaned forward. "Beck and I found one of the hiding places."

The chief's eyebrows shot up. "You found one of them?"

"She'd shoved library books all over the floor. I saw a little piece of wood sticking out on the fireplace mantle. When I pushed it back in place, a hidden door on the side popped open." Amy Jo hesitated for effect. "Inside was a metal box with thirty thousand dollars!"

Chief Higgins' mouth dropped open. "Why did you wait so long to tell me?"

Amy Jo squirmed a bit under his gaze. "Well. . .well, I don't know. I mean it wasn't a crime or anything. We just put it back where we found it and locked up the house."

Chief Higgins drummed the desk with his fingers. "All right. Her memory may still come back to her in bits and pieces. I know you and Becky see her every day, so keep watching and listening. Report back to me if there's something I ought to know."

"Oh! So you know we deliver the Springfield Sun to her?"

Chief Higgins smiled. "Knew it the first day."

Amy Jo chewed her lip while the chief patiently waited. "Actually, there's another thing that's even more worrisome. I told you about the hundred dollars Mrs. Martin asked me to keep. The day after she came home from the hospital, Beck and I put it back in her purse, but the very next day I checked her purse, and it was gone."

"Did you ask her about it? Maybe Edith gave somebody the money to buy something."

"She was fine the first day when I returned the money. The next day we told her the money was gone, but she was so groggy she couldn't stay awake. So, we couldn't ask her."

"Wide awake the first day, groggy the second," he said softly. "All right. I hear what you're saying. Is there actual proof someone is giving her medication the doctor didn't prescribe?"

Amy Jo squirmed. "Well. . .not yet."

Chief Higgins leaned back in his chair and crossed his arms.

"Anyway, we think somebody stole the money, so I took a pen and filled in the zeroes of the serial numbers on one hundred dollars. We put the marked money inside Mrs. Martin's purse this morning and have staked out her house across the street since ten o'clock. Two people left the house since then, and I've tailed both of them."

Chief Higgins' eyebrows rose. "What happened?"

"Miss Windle is usually at Mrs. Martin's house for an entire hour. Today, she was only there twenty minutes, then went to The Coffee Bean. Hank said that even if she took the marked money, she didn't spend any of it to pay for her coffee." Amy Jo's head dropped discouragingly. "I tailed another suspect, and I don't know about her either."

"Tell me about the second person."

"It's Alice. She bought a dress at Diana's Dress Shop, but the money ended up in her cash register before I could check it." Amy Jo looked hopefully at the chief. "If we could peek inside the register, we'd know if Alice took the marked money."

The chief drew his mouth inward as he looked at Amy Jo. "You ought to know I can't do that without just cause."

"I know," Amy Jo said softly. "I just thought I'd ask anyway."

Chief Higgins came around from behind the desk. "Now, don't get discouraged," he said, awkwardly patting her shoulder as he walked her to the door. "Somebody's got to do the day-to-day legwork of keeping an eye on Edith until she gets her memory back. And it looks like you and Becky are best equipped to do that. Now, it's not that I don't believe your story; we just need some hard evidence. You keep doing what you're doing and let me know how things go. I'll be the judge of when to jump in and take over. Agreed?"

Amy Jo smiled halfheartedly. "We'll let you know what we find out."

"Good." Chief Higgins pressed his mouth between his thumb and index finger, calculating the possibility that something very wrong might be happening at Edith Martin's house. The chief brought Officer Allen up to date, then strolled across the street to find out what Hank knew.

## Chapter 20

Amy Jo rode down Main Street with loose reins. When they reached the stake-out, Ginger angled her steps through the trees.

The mares nosed each other affectionately while Amy Jo removed the saddle. When the bridle came off, Ginger snorted and shook her head. She massaged Ginger's back while the pony nuzzled the girl's shoulder. Finally, Amy Jo joined Becky and drew the binoculars to her eyes.

Becky raised her eyebrows. "So?"

"So, what?" Amy Jo said, continuing to scan the Martin property.

"So, what?! So, what happened the entire time you've been gone? That's so what!"

"Not much."

Becky pressed her mouth together. "I've been alone forty-five minutes waiting for you to come back, and all you can say is 'not much'?"

"I followed Alice to Diana's Dress Shop."

"You followed Alice to Diana's Dress Shop?"

"Right."

"Did she spend any of the marked money?"

"Not sure."

Becky counted to five. "You're not sure?"

"That's right, I'm not sure."

There was dead silence in the confines of the stakeout as Amy Jo remained steadfastly glued to the binoculars.

From a lifetime of Amy Jo experiences, Becky realized that the entirety of what happened would either drift out in bits and pieces or in the form of an avalanche, and there was no rushing the process. With that in mind, she returned to her cozy little corner and picked up The Cay.

After the shops closed, the girls gathered their empty wrappers and headed home.

Ginger and Oreo shuffled back the lane with their heads hung low. It had been a hot, airless day and they were tired, too. They glanced at each other once or twice in shared misery, both looking forward to the cool, open shade of their paddock.

Amy Jo's feet dangled outside the stirrups as she condensed her ideas. "Number one. The marked money might still be in Mrs. Martin's purse."

"It might be."

"Number two. Somebody took the money and hasn't spent it yet. Number three. It may still be at Diana's Dress Shop, because I couldn't see the money Alice used before the cash register closed."

The avalanche, thought Becky. "She bought something."

"She used three ten-dollar bills to pay for a dress." Amy Jo slipped her feet back onto the stirrup pads. "There's only one way to prove it was the marked money."

"There is? What?"

Amy Jo was short on tack. "We could ask your dad to check Diana's deposit tomorrow morning for marked money."

"We can't do that!"

Amy Jo scowled between Ginger's ears. "I knew it wouldn't fly the minute I said it. It's probably against the law or something anyway."

"I don't know if it is or not, but I couldn't ask my dad to do that no matter what. Word would get out that we suspect a thief is living with Mrs. Martin, and that person would go into hiding. Then we'd never find out who it is."

Amy Jo drew a tired hand across her eyes. "Good thinking, Beck. I should have thought of that myself. We'll find out if the money is still in her purse, then go from there."

Becky rested her head on Oreo's neck and closed her eyes. "We'll find out tomorrow." When the forward motion stopped, she slid to the ground and ran up the stirrups while her mind leaped to an unpleasant conclusion. "If the money isn't there, we may never get it back."

"Don't worry, Beck. We'll get it back and Mrs. Martin's hundred dollars, too."

"You're right. This is about Mrs. Martin and what might happen to her if we don't find the thief. I just have to keep reminding myself of that."

The Springfield News carrier was late in delivering their bundle of newspapers Thursday morning, so it was eight forty-five when the girls met Miss Windle lumbering out the front door.

"Oh, it's you two, is it?" Miss Windle snarled.

Amy Jo kept it short. "We're here to deliver the morning paper."

"Your visits are upsetting my patient!" Miss Windle glared at them through her thick glasses. "And I will not have it!"

Amy Jo's eyes closed, then popped open again. "We are not upsetting. . ."

"Furthermore, I've given strict orders that Mrs. Martin is to receive no visitors, as in none. She is not to have any contact with you girls until I see marked improvement in her health!"

"I don't understand what you mean," Becky began. "Mrs. Martin enjoys seeing us."

"She is nice to you, but you create a strain on her nerves." Miss Windle drew herself up to her entire five-feet-two-inch height. "No visitors," she repeated then raised her arms together in front and parted the girls to the side on her way down the steps.

Amy Jo's mouth closed in a tight line as she watched Miss Windle jerk the car door open and heft herself inside. "We'll just sit tight until the old bag rounds the corner in her car."

Becky's head snapped around. "But she just said. . ."

"Well, she's not here now, is she?" said Amy Jo slyly. The door stood invitingly ajar, and she motioned her friend to follow her into the house.

"Aren't we supposed to let Alice know when we come into the house? I mean, we can't just walk in like this."

Amy Jo stepped over the threshold of the door. "Well, I just did, didn't I? Anyway, if we don't, we'll never find out if the money is still in Mrs. Martin's purse or if somebody took it."

Becky checked the breadth of the lawn for signs of Jack before following her friend toward the stairs leading to the second floor. She carefully tiptoed up the first two steps, then tripped on the third one as she heard a noise coming from the library.

The library door creaked opened, and Alice stepped through. She looked at one girl, then at the other. Her eyebrow lifted as she folded her arms.

"Couldn't find you," Amy Jo said. "We thought you might be upstairs, so we were just going up to let you know we were here."

Alice cocked her head to one side. "Why didn't you ring the doorbell?"

"The doorbell?" Amy Jo said, turning to Becky. "Why didn't we ring the doorbell?"

Becky's eyes turned from side to side before answering. "Because the door was already open."

"Exactly! Miss Windle just left and the door was already open."

"Mrs. Martin is not to have visitors for a while."

"She'll see us, because we're not really visitors. We deliver her newspaper."

"Anyway, we're here to collect," Becky said. "We couldn't collect money for the newspaper yesterday, so we thought we'd do it today."

Alice held out her hand. "No exceptions."

Amy Jo searched her memory banks for excuses she'd used in the past, but came up blank. "All right." Reluctantly, she handed over the only excuse they had for checking Mrs. Martin's purse.

As the girls stood on the front steps, the dew on the lawn danced magically against the morning sun, but they were too preoccupied to appreciate it. The sound of cans rattling together drew their attention to the right.

Jack came out of the shed with his paint gear in tow. He glanced at them then disappeared around the corner. They'd encountered all the suspects that morning and not one of them displayed an ounce of guilt.

Amy Jo shook her head. "I never met three people in my entire life so bent on being hated."

"All I can say is they've succeeded beyond their wildest dreams."

Ginger and Oreo snorted impatiently as they eyed the girls walking toward them.

Becky scratched under her mare's chin. "Jack must love parking under that tree over there."

"Why do you say that?"

"He parked at the very same place yesterday."

Amy Jo scanned the lawn for Jack's presence. "Let's take a closer look at it."

They walked their ponies across the driveway, but not before Amy Jo checked all the front windows. There were no imprints in the mulch to indicate that the truck had been moved. The rear wheel was still positioned three inches from the flowerbed.

"You're right, Beck. It's in the exact same place."

"Maybe he walks back and forth from where he stays in Bedford."

"Why would he do that? You know, we just assumed Jack was staying somewhere in town. What if he's staying here at night?"

"So, he had as much opportunity to take the money as the others did," Becky said.

"And just as much opportunity to look for the hidden money boxes."

## Chapter 21

It didn't escape Becky's notice that Amy Jo wore her plotting face the entire ride to the barn. "I don't want to spend the rest of the week staking out Mrs. Martin's house."

"I don't either. Especially when we're not sure anybody took it."

"Exactly! But if we're not allowed to see Mrs. Martin, how are we going to find out if the money's still there?"

Amy Jo fastened the crossties to Ginger's halter, then hung her hard hat on a nearby hook. "I've been thinking about it."

"And?"

Amy Jo wiped the sweat from Ginger's face as her next piece of strategy took shape. "Look, we can't move in any direction until we know for sure if the money's been stolen."

"Yes, but they won't let us into the house."

"Do you remember that big old tree outside Mrs. Martin's bedroom window?"

"I remember that big old tree. Why?"

"We used to climb it sometimes. . .you know the one I mean."

Becky stopped grooming Oreo and faced her friend. "I know exactly the tree you're talking about, but what's that got to do with anything?"

"That tree angles right past Mrs. Martin's bedroom window." She picked out Ginger's hooves and allowed Becky's imagination to fill in the pieces.

"You can't be serious."

"Why not?"

"A person could get killed falling from that tree."

"The key is not to fall."

Becky rested her arm on Oreo's back as the entire scenario played out in her mind. "If you recall, you were the tree climber. I stood on the ground and watched."

Amy Jo scooped up the grooming equipment and dumped them into the tack box. "So I'm the tree climber. I'll just have to climb a little higher this time."

"A lot higher."

"Don't worry, Beck. I'll be careful."

Becky poured a scoop of grain into Oreo's feed bucket, then sat on her tack box. "What if the window's locked?"

"If the window's locked, we'll think of another plan."

"The room might be empty when you climb through the window, but Alice or Jack might walk in while you're there."

"Yep, thought of that, too."

"What are you going to do if any of those things happen?!"

"It won't happen. Because you'll be at the front door, keeping them occupied while I climb the tree."

Becky sputtered. "Not in a million years am I going to do that! First of all, I. . .no, that's second. The first thing is that I would feel like an utter idiot knocking on their door."

"What's the second thing?"

"What would I say?! Did you ever think of that? I'd just stand there staring at them until they slammed the door in my face."

"I thought about that."

"Oh, good, so what am I going to say to those people?"

"You can pretend to sell them something."

"Wonderful! I am now a twelve-year-old professional salesperson. Do I look like a professional salesperson?"

Amy Jo laughed as she reached through the bars to scratch Ginger's forehead.

"I repeat. Do I look like a professional salesperson? The way I see it, climbing that tree is a piece of cake compared to keeping the suspects busy at the front door."

"I know, and I'll gladly switch jobs with you if you want to tackle climbing that tree."

Becky sighed deeply. "I don't want to do that either. Let's think of another way."

"We can't disguise ourselves or break into the house while they're away. Look, I spent the entire ride home thinking about it, and selling something is the best strategy."

"So, what do I sell?"

"Pretend you're a Girl Scout selling cookies?"

Becky wagged her head back and forth. "Possibly. Except I don't know anything about being a Girl Scout."

"I doubt if they care enough to ask," Amy said, then added, "You'll need an official-looking order form to stall them at the door."

"Where am I supposed to get that?"

"Easy. We'll create one on your computer and print it out."

Becky crossed her arms, sighing repeatedly. Finally, she caved. "Cookies. Well, there's chocolate chip, lemon-filled, peanut butter; what else?"

"Butter cookies, snicker doodles, butterscotch. That should be enough."

Having finished their barn work, they washed their hands, got something to eat, and headed up the stairs, where Becky kept her computer. An hour later they'd printed out something that could conceivably pass for a Girl Scout order form.

Amy Jo eyed the form critically. "We need to show this to someone else before we go over there tonight."

"Tonight? As in after dark?"

"The tree can be seen from the road, so I have to climb it when no one can see me."

Becky stalled. "We'll show it to Hank when we get ice cream. He'll tell us if it looks official enough."

"Good idea."

The girls ate their ice cream while Hank studied the order form. "Not bad." He frowned as he focused on the right side of the form.

"What's wrong with it?" Amy Jo said.

Hank looked up. "There aren't any prices on it. People like to know how much it's going to cost before they order something."

"We should have thought of that," Becky said. "We'll add prices and print it out again."

"Are you going to have samples?" Hank said.

Amy Jo twisted her mouth to the side. "We hadn't thought of that either."

"Do you think we should?" Becky asked.

"I don't know. I never had a Girl Scout ask me to order cookies before, so I don't know if they bring samples along."

"What if they ask for a sample?" Becky said.

"You'll have to say you ran out of samples, because there's no way we can come up with anything that looks like Girl Scout cookies," Amy Jo said.

Hank looked skeptically at Amy Jo, who was surprisingly evasive about how this form was to be used. "Girl Scout cookies. Neither one of you are Girl Scouts, are you?"

Amy Jo focused on her ice cream dish. "Ahh, no. We don't have time for that sort of thing."

Hank switched his attention to Becky, who immediately dropped her eyes as well. "Why do I suddenly feel uncomfortable?"

Amy Jo stirred her ice cream. "Well, uh, hm, I don't know."

"You're not Girl Scouts, yet you've created this order form. I can't help but think it must be tied to Edith Martin."

Becky looked up. "The problem is Miss Windle won't let us see Mrs. Martin, so we can't check whether the marked money is still in her purse."

"So, here's what we decided. Beck will keep everybody busy at the front door, while I sneak around back and check Mrs. Martin's purse."

Hank nodded as he gazed over their heads. The plan was a bit far-fetched, but an important step in determining if there really was a thief in the household. Even if the girls got caught, he couldn't imagine any harm coming to them. "Do either of you have a cell phone?"

They both shook their heads.

"You're doing this today?"

They both nodded.

Hank reached into his pocket for his cell phone. "Do you know how to use this?"

"Yeah," they both said.

Hank looked at them with deep worry lines surrounding his face. "I want you to take this along, and if there's any sign of trouble, call me or the chief. You got that?"

Amy Jo swallowed as she took the cell phone from his hand. "Yes, Hank. I got it. And thanks."

"We'll bring it back tomorrow," Becky said. "We promise."

Hank sighed as he looked over their heads again. "I know."

## Chapter 22

A quarter moon shone in a partly cloudy sky as the girls rode their ponies down Main Street. The echo of the mares' metal horseshoes clattered against the shadowed buildings. Only the Bedford Police Department had lights burning, but no one was visible through the front windows. Whoever was on duty must be in the back.

"What are you going to say when they come to the door?" Amy Jo said.

Becky straightened her shoulders. "You'll just criticize my little speech, so I'd rather practice it on my own."

"I'm not going to give you a hard time. Come on, it'll do you good to go over it before we get there."

"You are never quite happy with how I do things, so I will just save my speech for Jack and Alice."

Amy Jo turned to stare at Becky. "What do you mean I'm never happy with how you do things? You do things just fine most of the time."

Becky jabbed her index finger toward Amy Jo. "See? That's what I mean. I only do things 'just fine most of the time', so why should I rehearse my little speech when all you're going to do is tell me how I could say it better?"

"I was only offering to help, but if you'd rather bumble through it on your own, that's entirely up to you."

Becky glared at her friend through narrowed slits. "I do not intend to bumble through this. The only problem we have in this totally ridiculous venture is the real possibility of you falling out of that tree and ending up in the hospital."

Amy Jo returned Becky's glare. "I climb trees. I come down from trees. I do not fall out of trees."

"I'll make a deal with you. I will not tell you how to climb that tree, and you will not tell me how to sell the cookies."

Amy Jo squared off her hat and adjusted her chin strap. "You take care of your end of the deal, and I'll take care of mine!"

"Fine!"

They rode in silence, then led their ponies through the copse of trees to the stake-out. After leaning their saddles against a tree, they traded bridles for halters and tied the lead ropes near a grassy spot. Ginger and Oreo sniffed the girls' hair and pockets before dropping their heads to the ground.

Amy Jo scanned the area with the binoculars. "I don't see anybody moving around outside."

"There are lights on in the house."

Amy Jo redirected her binoculars. "There's one light in the hallway and a dim light coming from Mrs. Martin's bedroom upstairs."

"I hope nobody's in her room. Maybe it's just a night light."

"Maybe. I'll check the room before I climb through the window," Amy Jo said. "Hm."

"What?"

"One of them might be away for the evening."

Becky drew in her lips. "I need to find out if they're both in the house, because one of them could slip up to Mrs. Martin's bedroom while I'm talking to the other one at the door."

"Maybe you could just say. . ."

"I can do this without you telling me what to say."

"All right, all right. It's not going to be easy. We'll just do the best we can," Amy Jo said, then looked at Becky. "You ready?"

Becky took a deep breath and stood up. "Yes."

"Look, I might need help getting to the first branch of the tree."

"I'll give you a leg up before I knock on the door."

The girls waited until a small cloud covered the quarter moon, then raced across the road to the shadow of the house.

Amy Jo's eyes scaled the height of the tree until her neck stretched back as far as it would go. Somehow, it appeared infinitely higher than the last time she climbed it. In fact, she'd never climbed to the second story. So, this was a first—and in the dark.

Becky's eyes rested at the top of the branches. "It's bigger than I remember."

"Yeah, everything looks bigger and scarier at night." Amy Jo stepped to the side to get a better look. "The limb in front of her window looks pretty sturdy." Her eyes marked each foothold all the way to the window, then she answered with more confidence than she felt, "I can do it."

Becky's trembling hands patted her side pocket and heard the crinkle of the order form. Glancing at her watch, she said, "How much lead time do you think you'll need?"

Amy Jo rechecked each projected foothold. "Ten minutes." She faced her friend and took out the cell phone. "You take this. Hank put his home number on speed dial, so all you have to do is hit number '1'."

Becky nodded and placed the phone in the pocket opposite the order form.

"You won't have to say anything. Hank'll see that we're calling and come right away or get Chief Higgins."

"Right. They're less than five minutes away."

"Don't be afraid to call Hank if you run into trouble." Amy Jo let her breath out slowly as she continued to think. "When you come back to this tree, if I'm not down here in five minutes or so, then you'd better call him."

Becky stared at Amy Jo, unable to say a word.

"Anyway, nothing bad is going to happen. They're not going to beat up two girls or anything like that. It would be too risky for them."

Becky visibly pulled herself together. "No. It would definitely blow their cover."

"Lock your fingers together, and I'll use that to get to my first foothold." But the pressure of Amy Jo's weight on Becky's clasped hands was too great. "Why don't you kneel down, and I'll put my foot on your shoulder instead."

"Your boots will hurt."

"I'll take it off and you can toss it up to me once I'm in the tree."

"All right." Becky winced at the weight on that shoulder, but it worked. She looked up as Amy Jo wiggled herself around to face her friend. "You ready to catch this?"

"I'm ready."

Becky gave the paddock boot a couple of practice swings, but finally let go of it.

Amy Jo caught it midair. Slowly, she leaned down and slipped her foot inside the paddock boot, then zipped it up. "See you back here in fifteen minutes."

"Don't slip."

"No slips."

Becky stared through the branches of the tree, then brought the order form out of her pocket. She glanced at the stake-out where the ponies were hidden before moving slowly away from the tree.

## Chapter 23

Becky rehearsed her speech, continually stumbling over the same phrases. Starting from the beginning, she mouthed the words until she came to the bottom of the front steps. What if she couldn't get both of them to the door? What if Amy Jo was wrong? Maybe they would hurt someone who stood between them and that much money. What if they invited her in then wouldn't let her go? She drew out the cell phone and squeezed it tightly, gaining a measure of comfort knowing that Hank was only a speed dial away. Quickly, she walked up the steps before any other menacing thoughts distracted her.

Becky's finger was poised an inch from the doorbell when she drew it back. She stared at the hitching post where the ponies always stood, then looked down at the crumpled order form and pressed it smooth against the door frame. Even in the dim moonlight, she saw that the columns didn't line up. Everything was a bit wiggly. After they added the prices, everything shifted. Why hadn't they checked it when they printed it out? She closed her eyes for a second. She'd forgotten a pencil. She took another sustaining breath and pressed the doorbell, then stood back and waited.

Heavy footsteps crossed the hallway. Jack opened the door, but failed to turn on the outside light, so all Becky saw was the dark outline of his body backlit against the inside light of the hallway. His features were blurred against the darkness. He didn't speak; he just stood there, staring at her.

Becky opened her mouth, cleared her throat and tried again. "Hi," she croaked, clearing her throat a second time. "Uh, I'm taking orders for Girl Scout cookies, and I was wondering if you'd like to buy some. I have the order form right here if you'd like to see it." Her hand trembled as she shifted the paper toward him, but he made no attempt to take it. "Well, I'll just tell you about it then." She tilted the paper toward the light from the hallway.

Jack leaned against the door frame and crossed his arms. "I don't like cookies."

Becky jumped at the sound of his voice, but she was prepared for this defense. "You probably know people who do though. You could buy some for Alice. She likes cookies, doesn't she?"

Jack slowly began to roll up his left shirt sleeve. "Maybe."

Becky's eyes focused on the slow motion of his hand as he continued to roll up his sleeve. In the movies, men always rolled up their sleeves when they intended to punch someone. "Alice could b-b-buy the cookies for herself. She probably l-l-loves cookies; nearly everyone does."

"Wouldn't know."

Becky forced her eyes to look in the direction of his face. "Well, uh, is Alice here? We could ask her, and, uh, then we'd know, right?"

Jack said nothing as he rolled up his right sleeve.

Becky clutched the sides of the order form as she brought it up to her eyes. She strained to read the words. "We have peanut butter cookies," she began, then glanced past Jack into the hallway. "I never really liked peanut butter cookies myself, but a lot of people do, you know. Then we have butterscotch, snicker doodles, and chocolate chip. Chocolate chip is my favorite. It's Amy Jo's favorite, too. You remember Amy Jo, don't you? We deliver the Springfield Sun. . .to Mrs. Martin. . .here at the house. You met her the first day we stopped by to introduce ourselves." Where was Alice?!. "I don't remember whether you said Alice was home or not."

"I didn't."

"Oh! Well, she might really like chocolate chip cookies or. . .one of the other flavors."

Jack sighed loudly. "Don't know."

Becky swallowed. "Well, if she's here, we could just ask her." When he didn't make any comment, she rephrased the question. "Is Alice home tonight?"

"Yeah."

"Oh! That's good. If you call her to the door, we'll find out if she wants to order anything."

Jack sighed over Becky's head, then swung his head toward the hallway. "Alice!" he called. "Come here a minute."

The order form felt damp in Becky's hand, so she repositioned her fingers before the paper began to tear. The smile completely left her face as she heard Alice's footsteps cross the hall.

"What is it?" she asked, first looking at Jack, then at Becky. She, too, crossed her arms and leaned against the door frame opposite Jack. "What do you want?"

Carefully rehearsed lines were completely forgotten. "Do you like chocolate chip cookies?"

Alice raised both eyebrows. "Do I like chocolate chip cookies?"

"I, uh, I'm selling cookies, and I was wondering if you'd like to buy some."

Before Alice could answer, they heard the sound of a car chugging up the driveway. It was Miss Windle's clunker grinding to a halt in front of the door.

Alice shifted her eyes over Becky's head. "I wonder what she wants?" she asked, then turned to Becky. "Look, you'll have to come back another time. Actually, don't come back. We're not interested in buying cookies."

Becky looked anxiously from Alice to Jack. "Oh, but. . ." She glanced over her shoulder at Miss Windle, then stumbled down the steps and slipped into the shadows.

"Well, I can't find my stopwatch. I think I left it in Mrs. Martin's bedroom," barked Miss Windle. "I need it to time how long patients do their exercises."

Becky gasped, but no one seemed to hear her.

Alice and Miss Windle spoke in low voices as they made their way up the stairs toward Mrs. Martin's bedroom. Jack shut the door, while Becky stood outside wondering what to do.

Becky shot across the length of the house and raced around the corner. Placing her hands on the tree, she looked upward, but Amy Jo was nowhere in sight. "Amy Jo!" she called in a loud whisper. "Amy Jo!" Maybe the terrace doors were open. She leaped onto the terrace and tried the first door. It was locked. A short sob escaped her lips as she moved on to the second and third doors. They were all locked. She paced the length of the terrace then ran back to the tree, but Amy Jo still wasn't there. She leaned her head against the trunk of the tree, then turned around and slid to the ground.

## Chapter 24

The intertwining branches prevented any breeze from slipping through the density of the leaves. Rivulets of sweat trickled down Amy Jo's face and back as she continued to climb. The moonlight was much dimmer in the heart of the tree, so she groped and tested each limb before placing her full weight on it.

Halfway up, Amy Jo made the mistake of looking down. Her lips folded determinedly inward. Taking a deep breath, she reached for the next overhead branch. When part of her weight yielded a small cracking sound, she pulled back and steadied herself, then tested the surrounding limbs until she came to rest on something more solid. She increased the pressure until she felt secure enough to push off onto the next foothold.

Finally, her chin was level with the window sill, and she peered into the bedroom. She drew back sharply as she spied Alice placing a glass of water on the nightstand. Alice gently straightened Mrs. Martin's sheet and blanket, then picked up a stack of freshly laundered night clothes and walked over to the chest of drawers. Suddenly, Alice stopped and turned her head. Placing the night clothes into the chest of drawers, she stepped into the hallway, closing the door softly behind her.

Amy Jo pushed upward on the window, but it held fast. She stretched up to see if the lock of the window was fastened. It wasn't, so the window was just stuck. She took a deep breath, placed her hands on the sides and pushed harder. It gave way. She opened the window wider and slid into the room.

She pressed her ear against the door and heard muffled voices coming from downstairs. Whatever method Becky had devised was working.

Mrs. Martin's breathing was shallow but steady. Amy Jo gently shook her shoulder, but still she slept. Turning aside, she walked to the nearby table and reached for Mrs. Martin's purse. She opened it then reached inside for the billfold. Suddenly, there was the sound of people talking in the upstairs hallway, and they were heading toward the bedroom. Quickly, she replaced the billfold, shut the purse and ran to the window. Placing her leg over the edge, she reached for a sturdy limb, but all she felt was air. There was no time to look for a safe foothold. She positioned herself behind the drapes and pressed her paddock boots back against the wall. As the doorknob turned, Amy Jo realized that she hadn't closed the window. Desperately, she reached around to pull it down, but it was too late. The door was already opening. She arranged the drapes in natural folds and covered her mouth with her hand.

Miss Windle walked in followed by Alice. When she whispered something to Alice, the housekeeper nodded and left the room. Miss Windle waited a second, then softly closed the door. She leaned briefly over Mrs. Martin, then dropped soundlessly to the floor and looked under the bed. Reaching back as far as possible, she tapped lightly on the floor, tilting her head to one side, listening for hollow sounds. She walked around to the other side of the bed and repeated the process. She opened each drawer of both nightstands before moving over to the chest of drawers. Methodically, she searched each drawer, moving articles to the side then replacing them. Next, she looked behind all the pictures hanging on the walls.

Amy Jo's eyes widened as Miss Windle took the edge of the Persian carpet and pulled it aside. She struggled to get down on her hands and knees, then softly tapped the surrounding area on the floor. Using her fingernails, she tested the line where the slats of wood came together, then scooted forward a couple of feet and repeated the process. Miss Windle's head jerked up as footsteps made their way toward the door. She shot up with surprising speed, straightened the carpet, then reached in her purse and drew out a stopwatch.

When Alice walked through the door, Miss Windle held up the stopwatch. "I found it beside the nightstand on the other side of the bed," she whispered.

Alice nodded and checked to see that Mrs. Martin was asleep before escorting Miss Windle down the stairs. This time, she didn't close the door.

Amy Jo stared at the open door, not sure what to do. She could hear voices drifting up from the hallway. As long as they were still talking, she could make her move. She stepped outside the security of the drapes and hurried toward the purse. Halfway there, the voices stopped and the door was shut. Amy Jo froze. Once again, there were footsteps on the stairs, and she rushed back to her hiding place.

Alice walked to the table and took the billfold out of the purse. Drawing out all the money, she silently counted the cash and stuffed it into her pocket, then spun on her heel and walked toward the door.

In the dimness of the hallway stood a shadowy figure. Alice looked up, nodded her head, and patted her side pocket. She glanced at Mrs. Martin before closing the door.

Amy Jo sank to the floor and rested her forehead on her knees. They were all guilty, every stinking one of them. Alice and Jack stole the money out of Mrs. Martin's purse, and Miss Windle was searching the room for the hidden fortune. Suddenly she lifted her head. "I've got to get out of here."

Before leaving the safety of the drapes, she listened for voices or footsteps. The house was silent. They were probably in the kitchen, plotting how they were going to search the house for the rest of the money. Sighing, she felt for a limb that would hold her weight. When she was safely on the outside, she stood for a moment, looking sadly through the window at her old friend. Slowly, she sat down with her arms securely locked on an adjacent limb, then tapped the air until she made contact with something secure. Then, limb by tedious limb, she made her way to the ground.

## Chapter 25

Becky jumped to her feet as soon as she heard the window slide shut. "Amy Jo!" she called softly.

"I'll be down in a minute."

"Are you all right? Was the money there?"

"I can't talk right now."

Becky looked intently through the limbs, then walked restlessly around the tree, looking up through the branches from time to time to measure her friend's progress.

Amy Jo jumped the final four feet, then tilted her head back, her eyes widening. "Don't think I'll try that again real soon."

"How about you'll never try it again as long as you live?"

Amy Jo sunk to the ground and leaned back against the tree. "An even better idea."

Becky laid her head on her crossed arms and allowed layers of tension to ease from her shoulders. "So, what happened?"

"I need to think about everything for a while." Amy Jo was strangely quiet for a moment. "You didn't seem to have much trouble getting Jack and Alice to come to the door."

"Jack answered the door, but all he gave me were two-word answers. Oh, and did you know he doesn't even like cookies? He's probably the only person in the entire universe who doesn't. I finally convinced him to call Alice so I could ask her. He probably thought it was a colossal waste of time, since she undoubtedly doesn't like them either."

Amy Jo stared into space. "I saw her leave the room, so I figured whatever you did worked."

"As soon as Miss Windle got there, Alice told me to leave and not come back."

Amy Jo studied her hands. "I doubt if we can go into the house while they're still here, so it doesn't matter anymore."

"It doesn't matter anymore? Whatever happened must have been pretty bad." When Amy Jo didn't respond, Becky continued. "Miss Windle said something about losing her stopwatch. They headed toward Mrs. Martin's bedroom, so I had to warn you. I tried all the terrace doors but they were locked," she complained bitterly.

Amy Jo's head dropped back and she stared overhead at Mrs. Martin's window.

Deep inside the stake-out, Ginger and Oreo neighed softly.

"We've got to leave." Amy Jo walked with her head down as she relived the last fifteen minutes. "We were wrong. They're all in on it. . .all three of them. They're all trying to steal her money."

"They're all working together?"

Amy Jo shook her head. "No, nothing like that. I wasn't in Mrs. Martin's room more than a few seconds when Miss Windle came in. She got rid of Alice and searched the room."

Becky's head snapped around. "She knows about the money boxes!"

Amy Jo returned her friend's look and nodded. "She tapped on the floor underneath the bed. She searched the nightstands and dresser. She looked behind all the pictures. The most unbelievable thing was, she pulled the carpet back to see if any of the floorboards were loose."

"You're kidding?!"

"Who knows where else she may have looked if Alice hadn't come back. As soon as she heard Alice, she jumped up and pulled the stopwatch out of her purse."

"The stopwatch was never lost to begin with."

"Nope. It was just a big, fat excuse to search the room."

"Why did she come back tonight when she could have searched any morning she was here?"

"I thought of that, too. Maybe Alice is in and out of the room during the therapy sessions and doesn't give her a chance to look around."

Ginger and Oreo neighed louder as the girls came into sight. They stepped forward as far as their lead ropes would reach. They were thirsty and wanted to go home. The girls hugged their ponies and the ponies angled their heads around and pulled the girls into a tight hug. It was a comforting moment for everyone. The mares stood still while the girls tacked up and mounted, needing the barest nudge to move through the trees onto the berm of the road.

"You said all three of them were involved, so what about Alice and Jack?"

"Huh! Alice and Jack! Well, after Miss Windle left, I came out from my hiding place. When I opened Mrs. Martin's purse, I heard Alice coming back, so I hid again." She looked at Becky with half a smile. "This is even creepier than Miss Windle's stopwatch."

"What happened?"

"Alice took all the money out of Mrs. Martin's purse."

"She what?!"

"Yep, and stuffed it into her pocket. When she walked back to the door, Jack was standing there like it was all part of the plan." Amy Jo hesitated as she reviewed the scene. "I couldn't actually see Jack, but she was talking to someone right outside the door."

"There was nobody else there."

Amy Jo frowned. "I saw somebody, and I just assumed it was Jack." She reviewed the scene again. "It had to be Jack."

Once the mares turned into their lane, the crunch of gravel under their hoofs was familiar and reassuring for all of them.

The girls shifted their gaze to the right as they neared Amy Jo's house. A light was still burning in Evelyn Allison's study.

"Your mom's working late."

"She has a deadline in three days for one of her projects."

"Are you going to tell her what happened tonight? You always do."

Amy Jo thought for a moment. "I'd better wait until she finishes the project. I don't want to distract her."

When the ponies halted in front of the barn door, the girls dismounted and walked them inside. Amy Jo and Becky slowly went through the routine of taking the tack off and wiping it down. They brushed their ponies and picked the dirt and gravel out of the mares' hooves. When Ginger and Oreo were back in their stalls, they stood at their feed buckets, waiting for the carrots that signaled their reward and the end of the day.

After dumping the grooming supplies into her tack box, Amy Jo closed the lid, sat on top of it and leaned against the wall.

"What are we going to do now?" Becky said.

"We'll run the whole evening past Hank when we return his cell phone."

"He'll want to know what happened anyway."

"Then we'll go to the police station and talk to Chief Higgins."

Becky sighed. "What do you think he'll do?"

"Nobody saw what happened except me, so it's just their word against that of a twelve-year-old kid."

"I know. The chief will believe you, but he won't be able to do anything."

"Oh, he'll be able to do something. I just don't know what it will be yet."

"I doubt if he arrests and hauls them off to jail," Becky said

"One of them has to slip up in a way that can be proven before he can make an arrest."

"And it has to happen before they find her money and leave town," Becky said. "Which means we'll be spending the next day or two at the stake-out."

"No choice. Somebody has to look out for Mrs. Martin."

## Chapter 26

Hank crossed his arms and legs, then leaned sideways against the ice cream freezer. "It could have been worse. Neither of you got hurt, and you learned something about what's going on there."

"They're all a bunch of crooks trying to steal Mrs. Martin's money!" Amy Jo said.

Hank nodded. "At least it looks that way from what you saw."

"What do you mean it 'looks that way'?" Becky said.

Hank drew his lips inward as he considered how to explain what he meant. "Their behavior is definitely suspicious, and they may all be guilty. But the old saying that looks can be deceiving could play into this situation."

"But what about Miss Windle? She lied to get into Mrs. Martin's room, then searched the place until Alice came back," Amy Jo said.

"You're right. She did."

"Why would Alice take the money from Mrs. Martin's purse unless she was stealing it?" Becky asked.

Hank put up both hands in surrender. "There's plenty of evidence to prove they're guilty. All I'm saying is that all of them could come up with a logical reason for their behavior and slip through any charges laid against them."

"I wonder if the chief will feel the same way you do," Becky said.

Hank rinsed out their ice cream dish before answering. "I think he probably will. It doesn't mean he won't take what you say seriously. But he'll need concrete proof before he can approach any of them."

"I know he'll believe us," Amy Jo said. "And I know he'll look into it. But by the time he comes up with enough proof, they may have found the money and left town."

They fell into a worrisome silence until Becky reached into her pocket and returned Hank's cell phone. "Thanks for letting us borrow this."

Hank looked at it but didn't pick it up. "You're welcome to keep it another day or two if you need to."

"No, we'll be all right. It made us feel better just having it with us though," Becky said.

Hank looked out the front window as the girls crossed the street to the Bedford Police Station. The weight of the phone weighed heavily in his pocket. Maybe he should have insisted the girls keep it until this case was solved.

The police officer at the front desk looked at a light lit on her phone. "The chief is on the phone right now," Maggie said. "Do you want to have a seat and wait for him?"

"Sure," Amy Jo said, pacing back and forth in front of the desk.

Becky sat down and stared out the front window.

With every lap, Amy Jo checked the light on Maggie's phone. Finally, the light blinked off. "He's off the phone, right?"

Maggie put up her hand as she lifted the receiver and punched in a number. "Chief? Amy Jo and Becky are out here to see you. Right. I'll send them back."

Before the phone hit the cradle, Amy Jo was back in the hallway with Becky hard on her heels. She opened the door, nearly hitting the chief in the face with it.

"Whoa!" he said, adjusting his glasses. "We're in a bit of a hurry, aren't we?" Chief Higgins walked back to his desk and sat down. He leaned back in his chair and braced himself for the storm that was sure to break.

"Chief, we've got more information to give you," Amy Jo said.

"About Edith Martin, right?"

"Right." Amy Jo looked over the chief's head as she gathered her jumbled thoughts. "You know about the stake-out and Miss Windle and Alice spending money that we're not sure is our marked bills."

Chief Higgins nodded. "You told me about that."

"Well, Beck and I absolutely had to know if the money we planted was still in Mrs. Martin's purse," she said, looking pointedly at the chief. "You see what I mean?"

"Perfectly."

"The problem was, Alice wouldn't let us into the house. So, Beck kept Alice and Jack busy at the front door last night, while I ran around to the side of the house."

"How did you keep them occupied at the front door?" Chief Higgins said.

Becky's face flushed as she considered in what light she should cast her Girl-Scout-cookie story. "Um, I was talking to them about cookies, so I just stood at the front door and. . . talked about it for a while."

The chief knew there was a tad more to it than that, but he turned back to Amy Jo. "Go on."

"Well, this is where it gets a bit sticky, because getting into Mrs. Martin's room was going to be a serious problem."

"But you found a way to do it," the chief said with full confidence.

"Actually, I did. I climbed up the tree outside her room, then I opened her window and slipped inside."

The chief leaned forward and placed both elbows on the desk. "You did what?"

"I've climbed that tree a zillion times, so it was no sweat, really. I mean no sweat at all."

Chief's Higgins eyes searched Amy Jo's face. "All the way to the second floor?"

"Well, yes, but it was worth it, because of what I saw."

"Does your mother know you climbed that tree to the second floor?"

"Actually, I haven't discussed it with Mom yet. In fact, I was seriously considering skipping that part. So, if you wouldn't mind. . ."

Chief Higgins sighed, but didn't commit himself to a promise. "What did you see while you were in Edith's room?"

"First, Miss Windle came into the room and searched it. I mean as in under the bed and checking all the drawers on the night stand and dresser. She looked behind the pictures, then pulled back the carpet to see if there were any loose floorboards."

Chief Higgins was silent for several seconds. "Where was everyone else?"

"Downstairs. When Miss Windle heard Alice coming, she straightened the carpet and pulled out her stopwatch."

"Her stopwatch?"

Becky stepped forward. "When I was at the front door, Miss Windle drove up and pretended she left her stopwatch in Mrs. Martin's room."

"That became her excuse for gaining access to Edith's room."

"Exactly!" agreed Amy Jo, glancing at Becky with hope. "But that's not all I saw."

"Go on."

"After Miss Windle left, Alice came back and took all the money out of Mrs. Martin's purse. Jack saw her do it, so he's in on it, too."

Chief Higgins frowned. "Where were you hiding?"

"Behind the curtain."

The chief leaned back in his chair and stared at the desk. "I'll stop and see Edith this afternoon," he said quietly, "see how she's doing."

"So, are you going to. . ." Amy Jo began, but loud voices marching down the hallway stopped her.

The door burst open and Myrtle Decker strode in with Maggie tight on her heels.

Maggie looked around Mrs. Decker's ample shoulders. "Chief, I told Mrs. Decker you were busy."

"Don't worry about it," Chief Higgins said with a tired voice.

"Henry!" Mrs. Decker screeched, pushing the girls aside with both arms. "Now, I am having a very serious problem with my mother, and you need to get out from behind that desk of yours and come along with me this very minute. I'm depending on you, Henry, to do right by my mother."

The girls edged toward the door as they saw Chief Higgins drum the top of his desk with his fingers.

"Look, Myrtle, I am not a doctor. You need to talk to Dr. Murphy about whatever is wrong with your mother."

Mrs. Decker drew herself up to her full height and readjusted her hat. "I be-lieve that I can tell the difference between needing a doctor and needing the po-lice, and this is most definitely a police matter. Now, you just roll yourself out from behind that desk and come with me."

"Myrtle, just who's the police chief around here? I've got an appointment in exactly fifteen minutes, and I'm not leaving to go anywhere right now."

"Reschedule it, Henry."

"Myrtle, I do not intend. . ."

Becky closed the door softly, then walked quickly down the hallway. They gave the officer at the desk a sympathetic look on their way out the door. "That's done. Let's go home."

Amy Jo nodded toward E. E. Hardware Store. "Look."

"It's Alice and Jack."

Amy Jo's mind whirled. "They could be here in town for a while."

Becky looked at her friend suspiciously. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"We could talk to Mrs. Martin while Jack and Alice are here. It may be our only chance."

Becky opened her mouth to respond, but Amy Jo was halfway across the street. "Do you really think that's a good idea?' she called ahead, struggling to catch up.

"Have you got a better one?"

The mares waited at the gate for their ice cream, but their ears sagged as they eyed the girls' empty hands. That wasn't the worst of it. After a hasty tack up, the ponies automatically shifted right toward home, but the girls guided them left toward Main Street. They were pressed to a trot down the length of Main Street and signaled to canter at the edge of town.

Amy Jo reined in Ginger halfway down the driveway. "We'd better hide the ponies behind a shed in case they come home and we need to leave through the back door."

"Right," Becky said with a sigh.

After settling the ponies, the girls raced across the lawn, praying that the front door wasn't locked. Thankfully, the door swung open and they slipped inside.

Becky peered through the side window of the front door, while Amy Jo opened each door off the hallway and took a quick peek inside.

Amy Jo headed for the stairway. "Let's go."

On the third step, Becky tripped again.

"What is it with you and that step?" Amy Jo said, then stopped suddenly and stared.

Becky widened the small opening she'd created when her foot caught hold of the carpet. "There's something in here."

"It must be another hiding place."

But as they struggled to heave the metal box out of its space, the door leading to the basement eased open.

## Chapter 27

"The carpet sticks out almost an inch. We should have seen how uneven it is," Amy Jo said. She opened the lid, then slid her fingers along piles of cash. "There aren't any gold coins, so it's not as heavy as the other one."

"I wonder how much money there is?"

"Maybe a few thousand."

"Oh, I hope there's more than that," barked a voice nearby. "A lot more!"

The girls whirled around and stared at Miss Windle. They stood close together, forming a barrier between her and the money box.

"Don't bother trying to hide it." Miss Windle bared her teeth. "You've obviously found another box somewhere and I want to know where it is."

Amy Jo focused straight ahead. "I don't know what you're talking about. We didn't say anything about another box." She nudged Becky to back her up.

"No! We don't know anything about another box."

Miss Windle reached out with red, roughened hands. "Give me the box."

Amy Jo intertwined her arm with Becky and stood firm. "You can't have it."

A slow smile spread across Miss Windle's broad face. "We can do this the easy way, or we can do it the hard way. It's entirely up to you."

Becky's eyes widened, but she remained firm. "We may be smaller than you, but there are still two of us against one of you."

Miss Windle chuckled softly. "There might be two of you, but I have an edge over you."

The girls' faces were drawn as they stared at the woman's purse. It wasn't large, but dangerous weapons could be concealed in small places.

Amy Jo closed her eyes and thought, then cupped her hands around Becky's ear. "Grab the box, lock yourself in Mrs. Martin's room then call the chief. I'll lunge at her purse and keep her busy. When I say 'now', we'll make our move."

Becky shook her head. She couldn't leave her friend to face Miss Windle alone.

Amy Jo mouthed the words, "It's our only chance."

When Becky nodded, Amy Jo released her arm and screamed, "Now!" She leaped off the third step toward Miss Windle's right arm.

The instant Amy Jo's feet left the step, Miss Windle leaped aside, shoving Amy Jo flat to the floor, knocking the wind out her. Next, she charged forward and overtook Becky halfway up the stairway. She whirled the girl around and tore the box out of her hands. With a backward slice of her hand, Becky was sprawled on the steps with her eyes half closed. She slid down two steps before grabbing hold of one of the banister rungs.

Stunned, both girls lay where they were long enough for Miss Windle to place the box on the side table. She hauled Amy Jo to her feet and marched her along the hallway to the door underneath the stairwell.

"Let go of me," Amy Jo mumbled through a fog. She balanced herself on one foot and made a futile attempt to kick the woman, but Miss Windle swung free of the girl's foot and jerked her forward.

Miss Windle shoved her against the wall, unlocked the basement door, then howled as Amy Jo made good on her second attempt. Flinging open the door, she propelled Amy Jo inside, then locked it.

Becky used the banister to painfully pull herself to her feet. She hobbled down the stairs and staggered after her friend in a feeble rescue attempt, but backed off when she saw that Amy Jo was trapped on the other side of the door.

Miss Windle turned and locked eyes with Becky. She was in no hurry. She'd already won and Becky knew it.

Becky's only advantage was speed. She plunged down the hallway, whimpering as she reached the front door and turned the handle.

Before the door fully opened, Miss Windle slammed her body against it, the door closing with a resounding crash. She grabbed Becky's arm and dragged her along the hallway.

Becky dug in her heels at every step. "You can't do this!"

"There's nothing you can do to stop me! "

"The chief will find out and arrest you!"

"I'll be long gone before he finds out." Miss Windle unlocked the door and threw Becky in beside Amy Jo. Now, the door locked for the final time.

The girls sat in a heap, slowly recovering from being knocked down. Even though they were stuck behind the door, at least they were safe from Miss Windle's grasp. They heard the scrape of metal against wood as Miss Windle picked up the money box. Her feet clomping on the hallway floor lessened as she neared the front door. Then there was complete silence.

"I should have known Alice and Jack wouldn't leave Mrs. Martin alone," Amy Jo said.

Becky closed her eyes and wailed. "She's so fast! I didn't know anybody that big could move as fast as she does!"

Amy Jo slowly got to her feet, using the door handle for balance. When she could trust her voice, she said, "She was right. She had an edge. I don't know what it was, but she had an edge. At least she wasn't out to really hurt us, because she obviously could have."

"What do you mean she didn't hurt us? I hurt all over!"

Amy Jo rested her head in the bend of her elbow. "Yeah, me too."

Becky rubbed her shoulder where Miss Windle hit her on the stairs, then switched to her back where she hit the step when she fell. "Maybe she studied judo or karate or something."

"That's probably it. One of these days I'm going to learn karate myself." Amy Jo ran her hand over the walls. Finally, she found the light switch and flipped it on.

Suddenly, the area was flooded with light. They looked around and gasped as they stared down a steep set of stairs leading to the basement.

"If she'd pushed any harder, we'd have gone right to the bottom."

Amy Jo nodded. "Like I said, I don't think she really meant to hurt us, because she knew about the steps."

"We've been coming here all our lives and didn't know it was here."

"Obviously she found out that it's the only door on the first floor that has a lock on it."

"And now we're trapped."

Amy Jo squatted down and looked through the keyhole. "Good news," she muttered.

"What do you mean?"

"When I look through this keyhole, I can't see a thing."

"The fact that you can't see anything through the keyhole is just what I wanted to hear."

Amy Jo hobbled down the basement steps. "You don't get it."

Becky stumbled after her friend. "You're right, so reassure me. How could the fact that you can't see through the keyhole be good news?"

"I just happened to notice that the key in the door is a skeleton key." Amy Jo stepped to the middle of the room and pulled on a string.

"What does that have to do with anything?"

Amy Jo gathered some newspapers from the corner and walked to the workbench. "A skeleton key can lock and unlock a door from either side," she said, then pulled a roll of masking tape off a hook.

Becky's face brightened, then fell. "Well, that's just great, but unless one of us can figure out how to slide underneath the door and get the key, I don't see that we're any farther ahead."

Amy Jo gave her friend a withering look before kneeling on the floor to tape the pieces of newspaper together. "You have utterly no imagination at all. I mean as in none."

"Well, I'll just tell you what, Amy Jo Ryan. I've had about enough of your sneaking around and getting us into trouble to last me for fifty years!"

"This is no time to start an argument. I only meant. . ."

"I know exactly what you meant!" Becky snapped. "And we're up to our eyeballs in trouble right now. First, we're both hurt. Well, we're a little bit hurt anyway. Then, we're locked in this stupid basement, and we're going to be embarrassed as all get out when somebody finally has to rescue us! I can't even imagine how we're going to explain this to Hank, or the chief. . .or my mom and dad!" At that, she sat on the bottom of the basement steps and leaned against the wall.

Amy Jo sat down beside her. "I'm sorry, Beck. I don't blame you for being upset. Anybody else would be twice as mad at me for getting us into this mess."

"They would?"

Amy Jo leaned her elbows on her knees. "Oh, sure." She allowed a moment for her friend to wallow in self-pity before continuing. "Now, let me explain what I hope will happen. I'm going to shove this newspaper underneath the door. If I can find a narrow screwdriver, I'm going to poke it through the keyhole and try to knock the key onto the paper."

Suddenly, Becky sat up. "Then you'll pull the newspaper back toward you and unlock the door!"

"Exactly!"

"I'll look for a screwdriver while you tape the sections of newspaper together."

The girls ran upstairs and slowly slid the newspaper under the door.

"Now, I think I've pushed the newspaper far enough through the door, but if you punch the key out too hard, it might land beyond the newspaper. Then we're really stuck," Amy Jo warned her friend. "If you push it too softly, it might just hang on the tip of the lock, out of reach."

Becky nodded firmly before leveling the small screwdriver into the keyhole.

## Chapter 28

Amy Jo eased the newspaper under the bottom of the door. When the key appeared, they collapsed against the wall in relief. But halfway down the hallway, the front door opened and Miss Windle stepped through. The girls stopped dead in their tracks and stared at her.

What they failed to see was the handcuff attached to her wrist. When Chief Higgins followed, he wore the other half of the handcuffs.

It was over. They stumbled to the stairs and sat down on the first step.

Chief Higgins removed his portion of the handcuff and attached it to the library doorknob. "Why am I not surprised to see you here?" He shoved his cap back as he looked down at the girls. "You two all right?"

"We're all right," Amy Jo said with a shaky voice.

"Not as all right as we were fifteen minutes ago," Becky said, looking at Miss Windle.

Miss Windle raised a haughty eyebrow as her defense unfolded. "You can judge whether to believe a professional therapist or these two silly girls. Had my patient believing all sorts of things, so I stopped their visits. Their accusations are merely an act of vengeance."

"So why did you sedate her?" Amy Jo said softly. "I'll tell you why. You couldn't search for the money unless you did"

"That's an outrageous lie!" Miss Windle screamed, then collected herself. "No honest medical person would do such a thing. I'm sure you know that, Chief."

"Absolutely not," Chief Higgins said. "No honest medical person would sedate a patient to prevent her from talking about things that were inconvenient for other people to know."

Miss Windle glared at the girls triumphantly.

"But we're talking about an honest medical person, which is different from discussing you."

The haughty expression eroded. "Just what are you suggesting?"

"I'm suggesting that you're not who you pretend to be. I'm suggesting that you would use any means at your disposal to accomplish your goal."

Miss Windle dropped her eyes. "I don't know what you mean. I have not built a fine reputation by hurting old people and little girls."

"I'll make one last suggestion," the chief said icily. "You don't have a reputation in the medical field."

The girls looked from the chief to Miss Windle.

Miss Windle's defense collapsed and she stammered, "I h-haven't the vaguest idea what you're implying."

"What are you talking about, Chief?" Amy Jo said. "Are you saying she's not a physical therapist?"

"I can't say anything more about it now. You'll find out soon enough."

"What about the money box?" Becky said. "Did you get it?"

"Oh, yes. It's locked in my police car."

Amy Jo had been half asleep and suddenly jolted awake. "What made you come here?"

Chief Higgins looked at his young friend with amusement. "You're not the only one who knows how to conduct an investigation."

Becky tilted her head. "Come on, Chief. What happened?"

"Well. . ." the chief began, but then the door opened and Alice and Jack walked through.

Slowly, they placed their packages on a side table and stepped farther into the hallway.

Jack stared at the handcuffs and the girls standing beside the chief. "What's going on here?"

"I'm Chief Higgins of the Bedford Police and I've placed Miss Windle under arrest. When my female officer arrives from the station, we'll escort the prisoner downtown."

Alice looked at each person in turn. "Prisoner? But she's Mrs. Martin's physical therapist."

"Did you ever witness Miss Windle giving Edith Martin treatments?" the chief asked.

Alice frowned slightly. "Well, I was in and out of the room, but I never stayed the whole time."

Chief Higgins nodded. "I'm afraid there's more going on here than you realize."

Alice folded her arms and looked at Jack.

"Well," Jack began slowly. "We'd like to hear about it."

"I can't give you much information yet, but preliminary investigations convinced me that I've got a solid case."

Alice shook her head as her eyes drifted beyond the girls to the third step. "What's that?"

"Oh, that," Amy Jo said. "That's a place where Mrs. Martin hid some of her money."

Alice's eyebrows shot up. "She hid money in the house?"

"Lots of it," Becky said.

"How long has she done that?" Jack said.

"Forever," Amy Jo said. "She's never put her money in the bank."

Jack drew his hand over the back of his hair. "That's a bit risky."

"It is," agreed the chief. "But I think she'll listen to reason now."

"So, where's the money now?" Alice said.

Becky pointed her finger at Miss Windle. "She took it."

Miss Windle grasped an opportunity. "I heard strange noises while I was working with Mrs. Martin. So I came downstairs and saw these two girls sitting on that step, counting the money. I was taking the box to the police station when. . ."

Amy Jo interrupted her. "Then why did you lock us in the basement?"

Miss Windle's eyes shifted back and forth. "Well. . .well, I had to make sure you didn't escape. I couldn't let you get away with robbing Mrs. Martin of her life savings!"

"You know, Chief," Jack said, "I don't really think Miss Windle is the one you should be looking at."

Alice turned to the chief. "That's right. We've done our own little investigation, and we think we know who the guilty ones are."

Chief Higgins' eyebrows slowly rose as he stared at Alice and Jack. "And who would that be?"

Alice pointed her finger at Amy Jo and Becky. "Those two."

## Chapter 29

Chief Higgins twinkled at the girls, but realigned his expression as he shifted back to Alice and Jack. "Why are you accusing Amy Jo and Becky of attempted theft?"

"There's no attempted about it," Jack said.

"We practically caught them red-handed stealing money from Mrs. Martin's purse," Alice said, with a firm voice.

"Us?!" cried Amy Jo.

Becky sputtered. "You are the ones who took money from Mrs. Martin's purse."

Chief Higgins held up his hands. "Now, let's just go about this in an orderly fashion." He directed his first question to Alice and Jack. "Why do you accuse Amy Jo and Becky of stealing money from Edith Martin?"

Jack turned to Alice. "You were suspicious first, so why don't you begin."

"Well, I needed supplies for the kitchen, so Mrs. Martin told me there was money in her purse and to take what I needed and bring back the receipt."

"When was that?" asked the chief.

Alice thought a second before answering. "About two o'clock Monday afternoon."

"How much did you take, and how much was left?"

"I took out forty dollars, but there was still sixty dollars left in her purse. I was distracted when I got back, so I didn't remember to put the change back until two days later."

"That would be Wednesday afternoon?"

"Right. When I opened her billfold, the rest of the money was gone. Mrs. Martin can't get out of bed without a lot of help, so I knew someone had taken it. The only people in her room were Miss Windle and these two girls."

Chief Higgins nodded. "But how did you decide it was Amy Jo and Becky who took the rest of the money rather than Miss Windle?"

Jack spoke up. "We set a trap."

The chief's eyebrows rose again. "A trap? What kind of trap?"

"Alice told me what happened, so we pooled our money and put it in Mrs. Martin's billfold. Then, Miss Windle made it easy for us, because she wouldn't let the girls back in the room the next day. Since the money was still there after Miss Windle left, we knew the girls took it."

All the pieces fell into place. "The money Alice took out of Mrs. Martin's purse last night was the money they'd put in to set the trap," Amy Jo said to Becky.

Becky shook her head. "That's what Hank meant when he said things aren't always what they appear."

"Yeah, that's what he meant."

Alice and Jack frowned in bewilderment, but Chief Higgins urged them to continue. "After you set the trap, what happened?"

Alice picked up the thread of the story. "Miss Windle stopped by last night to look for her stopwatch in Mrs. Martin's room. I left the room to give her another opportunity to take it, but she didn't. I checked after she left and the money was still there."

"Then, you took the money, put it in your pocket, and left the room," Amy Jo said.

Alice stared at Amy Jo with her mouth open. "How did you know that?"

"I was in the room and I saw you."

The chief stood back while the girls presented their defence.

"When Mrs. Martin went to the hospital, she gave us one hundred dollars to keep for her until she came back, right, Beck?"

"Yes. We put it back in her purse the first day we delivered the newspaper, which was Monday morning. On that day, Mrs. Martin could talk to us and wasn't sleepy."

"When we came back Tuesday morning, the money was gone! And Mrs. Martin could barely keep her eyes open, let alone answer any questions about it. Then, we didn't know whether you two took the money or Miss Windle."

Jack turned to Alice. "Us?! They thought we took it!"

Alice shook her head as she looked at the girls. "Your story still doesn't prove you didn't take it. After all, the money was gone after you were in Mrs. Martin's room. But after you no longer had access to her room, no more money was stolen. And, like I said, Miss Windle was in her room last night for at least five minutes and didn't take the money."

Miss Windle nodded furiously at the chief. "See, what did I tell you?"

Amy Jo shook her head. "All three of us visited Mrs. Martin's room Tuesday morning when the sixty dollars disappeared. But on that morning, Miss Windle was just leaving when we got there. She was there first, and when we looked into Mrs. Martin's purse the money was gone. On Wednesday morning, Beck and I set a trap by placing one hundred dollars in Mrs. Martin's billfold. On that day, Miss Windle came after we left and took it."

"Yeah, she just used the stopwatch as an excuse to get into Mrs. Martin's room," said Becky.

"But she was too busy looking for a hidden money box to bother about stealing the money you'd planted in the purse."

Miss Windle lifted her chin. "That's a pack of lies!"

Alice stared at Amy Jo. "You were not in the room when I took out the money, so how can you be so sure what happened?"

"I was there, all right. I hid behind the drapes and saw everything, including Miss Windle searching the bedroom for the money box and you taking money out of Mrs. Martin's purse."

With that final statement, Miss Windle allowed her head to drop to her chest, and Alice and Jack fell silent as they processed what the two girls had said.

Chief Higgins looked from one group to the other. "Well, it looks like we're done for the time being." He heard a car approach and strode over to the window. "Maggie's here." He unlocked the handcuff attached to the doorknob and escorted Miss Windle to the door, then turned to the group with one last directive. "I'll need official statements from all four of you. Stop by sometime tomorrow morning, and we'll write it up for you to sign. Is everyone clear on that?"

All four individuals nodded, then the chief walked Miss Windle out to the waiting officer.

After Chief Higgins left, everyone's eyes shifted about the room. Amy Jo hooked her arm around the banister, while Becky leaned against the opposite wall. Jack and Alice looked at their hands, then at their watches.

Alice cleared her throat. "I'd better put these things away in the kitchen."

Jack turned to his own pile of supplies. "Right. I'll take these paint cans out to the workshop."

Amy Jo slowly pulled herself to a standing position. "Let's run upstairs and see Mrs. Martin."

Becky winced as she stretched her arms. "She might be able to talk to us if Miss Windle didn't give her any medication today."

The girls knocked softly on the door and walked through when they heard the sound of Mrs. Martin's voice.

Their friend smiled weakly. "It seems like a long time since I've seen you."

Amy Jo smiled and caught Becky's eye. "Yeah, a long time."

"How are you feeling?"

Mrs. Martin thought a second. "Better I think. I feel a little more awake today."

"I'll bet you do," Amy Jo said.

"Has Miss Windle been here yet this morning?"

Mrs. Martin frowned before she spoke. "You know, I don't remember. It seems like she should have been, doesn't it? But I've been in a fog so much of the time lately."

"Well, the fog is going to disappear now," Becky said.

"I don't even know what day it is," Mrs. Martin said.

"We'll get a calendar for your night stand," Amy Jo said. "But that's not why we came to see you."

Mrs. Martin looked at each girl in turn. "So, this is more than just a friendly visit?"

"Oh, it's definitely a friendly visit," Becky said. "But we wanted to tell you that we found another money box."

Mrs. Martin's eyes widened. "You did? Where was it?"

"Beck kept tripping over the third step on your stairway."

Mrs. Martin closed her eyes and chuckled softly. "That's right. I put it there the day before I went to the hospital. I remember now. You know, there are quite a few little hiding places my father built over the years. He said it was safer to rotate them from one place to the other, so I do the same thing. I just forgot where all those places were."

"Well, you know, Mrs. Martin, my dad is the manager of the bank," Becky said gently.

Mrs. Martin nodded her head. "Enough said. It's time I had a little talk with your father. Will you ask him to come here when he has a few minutes to spare?"

"Sure, Mrs. Martin. I'll tell him tonight."

"I can't tell you how much I appreciate your help," Mrs. Martin said, then laid her head back on the pillow and drifted off to sleep.

As the girls reached the bottom of the steps, Alice came out of the kitchen, carrying a stack of items for Mrs. Martin's room. The three stood awkwardly in the middle of the hallway, then Alice blinked one eye shut for a few seconds.

"Got something in your eye?" Amy Jo said.

Alice blinked several more times. "Oh, no, it's these new contacts."

"Is that why you frowned at us so much in the beginning?" Becky said.

Alice looked startled. "Did I frown at you?"

"We thought you hated us," Amy Jo said.

Alice's mouth dropped open. "How could I hate you when I'd never met you before? I just couldn't see very well, and it was frustrating for me. I'm sorry if I gave that impression," Alice said. "I will admit that I wasn't sure if you were good for Mrs. Martin. At first, I worried that you'd excite her too much and tire her out. Then there was the. . .problem with the money."

"Right. We understand now," Amy Jo said.

Becky nodded. "We might have felt the same way."

"I can see that you saved Mrs. Martin from, well, from something tragic. She could have lost everything." Alice stood for a moment longer before walking up the stairs.

The girls crossed the lawn to the back of the small outbuilding where Ginger and Oreo waited patiently in the shade. As they rounded the corner, they saw Jack talking to the ponies and giving them little pats.

He stepped back sheepishly at the sound of their footsteps. "I was just. . ."

"Do you like horses?" Becky said.

Jack stood sideways from the girls and continued to stroke Ginger's side. "I like animals. Look, girls, we didn't mean you any harm. It's not that we had it in for you or anything."

Amy Jo swallowed the first words that came to mind. "It felt like that in the beginning. And we thought you were guilty, too. We were all trying to help Mrs. Martin."

"Yes, we were just trying to help," Becky said.

Amy Jo hesitated. "We got off to a bad start when I picked up that letter of yours."

Jack's face pinked a little as he edged closer to the ponies. "Aw, that was nothing. My old girlfriend broke up with me."

Becky tilted her head. "Alice is good-looking."

Jack rotated a little farther away from the girls. "Hadn't noticed."

"She's nice, too," Amy Jo said.

"Yeah, I suppose so." Now, Jack had his entire back to them as he gave a final pat to each pony. "Well, I've got to get back to work," he said, then retreated to the workshop.

Becky cocked her head to the side as she watched Jack flee the scene. "Hm, something's brewing here, I think."

"Yeah, looks like it."

As their ponies walked slowly down the driveway, Becky posed a question. "Do you think the chief will interview us together or one at a time?"

"I don't know, but I suspect it will be separate."

"We have to remember all the details so that our stories match."

"They'll match. Only people who tell whopping lies have to keep reviewing their stories, because they can't draw from the memories of what really happened. Just relax and think before you answer his questions."

"Speaking of whopping lies, I wonder what story Miss Windle will give."

"More than that, I wonder what Chief Higgins found out that made him show up here today?"

Becky looked over at her friend. "I suppose we'll find out tomorrow."

## Chapter 30

Chief Higgins leaned back in his chair as he stared across his desk at Amy Jo and Becky. "I wanted to see you together for a few minutes, so I won't have to repeat myself. It'll all be in the newspaper tomorrow anyway. . .almost everything."

Amy Jo opened her mouth to ask a question, but the chief held up his hand.

"I'll do all the talking first, then if there's something I haven't covered, you can ask afterward," Chief Higgins said, then began his story. "I never doubted that something worrisome was happening at Edith Martin's house; I just wasn't sure that it was a police matter. There wasn't enough evidence to begin an investigation, and that's what concerned me. You see, it was easy to explain the money missing from Edith's purse."

Amy Jo nodded. "It might have been used to buy groceries or something."

"Exactly. And I didn't want to upset Edith by asking her a lot of questions when she was just out of the hospital. I decided to wait for something else to come to light before I took any obvious action." The chief shifted his gaze to Amy Jo and added, "And I knew that if there was a shred of evidence to find, you'd find it."

Amy Jo smiled. "And we did."

The chief smiled back. "Never doubted it. Now, I didn't just sit here doing nothing. I figured you'd be talking to Hank, so the two of us put our heads together a couple of times. We were watching you a lot closer than you think."

Amy Jo and Becky exchanged curious glances.

"Don't ask," Chief Higgins ordered. "The big break came when Myrtle Decker stopped by the same day you girls were here."

Becky's eyes widened. "Mrs. Decker?"

"Oh, yes," the chief assured her. "Miss Windle was visiting her mother every day, too."

"She was visiting Mrs. Decker's mother?" Amy Jo said, then turned to Becky. "She said she needed someone to replace her mother's nurse who would be gone for a while?"

"Yes, but I never made the connection."

The chief continued with his story. "Myrtle was upset, because she was sure that cash was missing from a drawer in the desk. The first day or two, Myrtle thought she'd spent money and just forgotten about it. But she felt uneasy about the whole thing. So, she counted out a specific amount of money, wrote it down and placed the cash in the drawer. She deliberately sat in the backyard while her mother was being tended to, then looked in the drawer as soon as Miss Windle left. She took just enough so Myrtle would see cash when she opened the drawer and think she'd miscalculated on how much she'd put in there originally. When she knew definitely that money had been taken, she came to me."

"It's a good thing Miss Windle had more than one patient, or she might have gotten away with Mrs. Martin's money box," Amy Jo said.

"Well, you can't really use the word 'patient'."

"What do you mean?" Becky said.

Chief Higgins chuckled to himself. "I made some phone calls as soon as Myrtle left. Miss Windle is not a physical therapist."

"She's not?" said Becky.

"Well, what is she?" Amy Jo demanded.

"She's the roommate of a physical therapist. And her roommate was out of town for two weeks. They'd gone to school together when they were younger to study physical therapy. Miss Windle dropped out but her roommate finished."

Amy Jo sat back in her chair and folded her arms. "So, Miss Windle knew some of the jargon of a physical therapist and how to do certain things."

"Right, but there's something else that's an unbelievable coincidence. Miss Windle talked to someone who overheard Myrtle complaining about the hidden money the day all four of us were at The Coffee Bean."

Becky murmured to herself, "The day Mrs. Martin went to the hospital."

"And there's Mrs. Decker squawking at the top of her lungs about it."

Chief Higgins drew his hand over his mouth, then cleared his throat before continuing. "Well, Miss Windle actually called the hospital and pretended to be her roommate. She said she was available if Mrs. Martin needed a physical therapist."

"Miss Windle figured she was safe, because her roommate wasn't there to answer the call from the hospital," Amy Jo said.

"And that's exactly what happened. After Social Services checked out the roommate's references, she called, and Miss Windle answered the phone and then reported to Edith's house."

Amy Jo tilted her head. "But wouldn't the roommate's name be different from Miss Windle's name?"

Chief Higgins shook his head. "This is the sad part. Miss Windle's roommate is her sister, so they both have the same last name."

Becky leaned back in her chair. "That is sad. I wonder what her sister will think about this when she gets back from vacation?"

Everyone was silent as they envisioned how the sister would react at having the family name splattered all over the newspapers.

"Was she the one giving Mrs. Martin something to make her sleepy?" Becky asked.

"Yes. She switched some medication in the bottle for something that would make Edith drowsy. It didn't really hurt her from what Dr. Murphy tells me, but Edith would be too groggy to notice what was going on."

"And Alice and Jack are who they appear to be?" Becky asked.

"Yes. I checked on both of them, and their backgrounds add up, so they're fine. In fact, they're feeling pretty guilty about what happened right under their noses."

"Well, most people don't suspect everybody they come in contact with."

Becky grinned at her friend. "Most people don't."

Amy Jo opened her mouth for a comeback, but the chief began to laugh. She turned to him with her arms on her hips, but leaned back in her chair and grinned. "So I see things from a different angle from other people."

Well, you get it pretty honest," Chief Higgins said quietly.

"Yeah, I'm like my dad."

Chief Higgins slid a piece of paper out of the drawer. "All right, why don't I take a statement from Amy Jo first, then I'll call you back when she's done, Becky."

Later in the day, Amy Jo grabbed her notebook and slipped into her mother's study. She flipped through to a clean sheet and began to write.

Mrs. Ryan looked up from her computer and watched her daughter jot down some final notes. Amy Jo had entitled the entire affair, "The Case of the Missing Money".

"Amy Jo."

"Yes, Mom?"

"He moved in some time ago, you know."

Amy Jo put down her pencil and met her mother's gaze. "Detective Paulson. Yes, I know."

"We can't just ignore this," Mrs. Ryan said, pushing her hair back. "Why don't we drive by and see where he lives." When Amy Jo looked away, she continued, "Would you be willing to do that?"

Amy Jo looked back. "Sure, Mom. When do you want to go?"

"If we're going to do this, I think we should go now and not put it off."

As they walked to the car, Amy Jo took her mother's hand.

Mrs. Ryan looked at her daughter and smiled.

Five minutes later, Mrs. Ryan pulled over to the curb under a tree. They sat looking across the street at a small, single-storied brick house.

Amy Jo swallowed hard. "I suppose he needs to live on one floor because of the wheelchair."

"Yes, I'm sure you're right. It must be very hard for him not to be able to walk."

Amy Jo turned away from the house and looked through the front windshield. "At least he's still alive."

Mrs. Ryan gazed at her daughter. "Yes, but I wonder if he thinks he's the lucky one."

Amy Jo slowly turned to her mother. "I never thought of that."

"I hadn't either for a long time. He doesn't remember anything about that night. He doesn't remember driving there with your father or who shot them. He only remembers waking up in the hospital."

"That's the other thing. If he'd just remember something about it, maybe they could catch the creep."

They sat in silence for a while, then Mrs. Ryan asked, "Do you think we should knock on the door and see if he's home?"

Amy Jo looked at her mother, then dropped her head. "Not yet, Mom," she decided. "Sometime. . .sometime, but not yet."

~The End~

