“Two horses,” Stevie told Regina, who just looked at her in disbelief.
“Some tracker you are,” said Regina. “I bet you can tell whether they’re left- or right-handed from the way the clips and clops come down the street.”
“Of course not,” said Stevie. “Horses aren’t ‘handed’ the way people are.”
“I wouldn’t have known that,” said Regina, but she clearly wasn’t impressed. In fact, she seemed irritated. “It’s not that you’re horse-crazy that bothers me,” she said. “It’s that you’re horse-silly.”
“Little do you know,” said Stevie, trying to keep the irritation out of her own voice. It wasn’t going to do any good to get into another argument at this point. And besides, the policemen and their horses didn’t seem to be coming to their rescue any better in twos than singly.
When she could no longer hear the hoofbeats, Stevie took off the stethoscope and sat down again on one of the boxes of paper. She leaned back, resting her head against a filing cabinet. She closed her eyes and drifted into an uneasy sleep.
CAROLE SAT BOLT upright in bed. Something was chasing around in her mind. She glanced at the clock. It read 2:13 A.M. She squeezed her eyes shut in an attempt to clear her mind a little. What was it that was chasing around?
Maxi. No, it wasn’t Maxi chasing around, it was Carole chasing Maxi around. As she settled back onto her pillow, she remembered the day she and Lisa had had with Maxi. She sighed. They just had a few more days of Maxi chasing and then she’d be able to rest.
It would be easier if Stevie were here, Carole thought. Stevie always seemed to find ways to make the toughest chore more fun. She’d have thought of all sorts of clever and fun things to do with Maxi. It might not have made the work any easier, but it would have made it more enjoyable.
Things were always more fun when Stevie was around.
Stevie was in New York, though, probably having the time of her life. Carole and Lisa would get a whole bunch of postcards from all the great places she’d been in the city. The postcards would arrive long after Stevie got home and had a chance to tell them all the fun stories about her trip. And all they’d have to tell her was how fast Maxi had run into which stall at which time. They could tell her how much Maxi loved to ride the ponies. Stevie would like that. It wouldn’t surprise her, but she’d like it.
Carole’s eyes drifted closed again. It was silly to think about what Stevie was doing at that moment, because it was obvious that she’d be sleeping. Anybody with any sense would be sleeping at 2:13 in the morning, even in New York where there were so many street noises it must be impossible to sleep. Yes, even Stevie would be asleep then.
Carole’s last thought before she fell back to sleep was of Stevie standing on the top of the Empire State Building, waving at her.
“STEVIE!” A WHISPERING voice penetrated Stevie’s sleep.
“Wha—”
“Stevie!”
Her eyes fluttered open.
“Did you hear that?”
The only thing she’d heard was Regina’s voice. She shook her head.
“Listen!”
They sat quietly, waiting, listening.
Stevie looked at her watch. It was almost a quarter past two. Who was still awake at that hour? And why?
It occurred to Stevie that perhaps the only thing worse than having her mother find out what she’d been up to would be if those men came back and discovered two girls in their secret room. The secret of it was still a mystery, since the only thing they’d found was paper, but the fact that those men didn’t want anyone in the house had come through clear as a bell.
She stood up and flicked the light off. It wouldn’t exactly hide them from those guys, but then it wouldn’t advertise their presence, either. As long as the men didn’t go into the kitchen, where they would come across a large and rather suggestive hole in the floor …
“I guess that won’t make much difference,” said Stevie, sitting back down. Regina shrugged. It didn’t hurt, either—at least until they’d found out what that noise was. Regina took Stevie’s hand and held it tight. They were in this together.
There was a distinct shuffling in the basement. Then a thump, followed by a shush!
And another thump, and another.
Stevie pressed her ear to the door, but all the sounds were muffled. Then she remembered the stethoscope. She slipped that into her ears and tried listening again.
At first all she could discern were footsteps. There was a click that sounded like a light being turned on. She grimaced, looking at Regina. What if it was the two men again? The next thing they would hear would be the sounds of keys going into the locks. How would they ever explain? How could they ever get away?
Stevie held her breath. What she heard next was not a key going into a lock. It was the distinct sound of a sneaker hitting the bottom step of the staircase up to the ground floor.
“Be quiet!” one voice said. It was a familiar voice. It wasn’t gruff and it wasn’t threatening.
“Our moms are going to kill us!” said another voice.
“Well, they’ve got to be here someplace and we have to find them!” said the first.
Liza and Peter. That’s who was speaking.
“Shhhhh!” Stevie suspected that was Ann.
Stevie knocked on the door.
“Hey, guys!” she said.
“Is that you?” Peter asked.
“Who were you expecting?” Regina snapped back.
“Of course it’s us. Get us out of here!”
“How’d you get in there?”
“There’s a slight weakness in the kitchen floor,” Stevie said.
“We fell,” Regina explained.
“Are you okay?” Ann asked.
“We will be as soon as you get us out of here!” said Regina.
“Well, how are we supposed to do that?” Liza asked.
“How should I know?” said Regina. “You’re the ones in charge of rescuing!”
It was funny and it made Stevie smile, but it didn’t solve the problem. She had an idea, though. “I think I saw a ladder upstairs,” she told them. “In the parlor, by the stairs going up to the next floor.”
“Well, how are we going to get it to you?” Liza asked.
“Through the ceiling!” Regina snapped. She was clearly annoyed with the rescuers’ inability to rescue them.
Stevie knew that they’d figure it out and that the most difficult part was going to be walking on the kitchen floor with the ladder. If it collapsed with the two girls there alone, how would it behave with more kids and a ladder?
Stevie took a deep breath and thought of what Lisa would do. Logically, she understood that the weak floor was a problem, that Peter, Ann, and Liza would know it was a problem, and that they would solve it.
They did.
A few minutes later Peter had laid the ladder across the weakened kitchen floor and was crawling along it to the edge of the hole, testing the strength of the floor as he went. When he neared the hole the girls had fallen through a mere four hours earlier, he was especially cautious. He obviously knew he had to be sure that the floor would hold him, the ladder, and one of the girls. Fortunately there was a beam right there. He could stand securely on the part of the floor right over the beam. Carefully he lifted the long wooden ladder and slid it down into the room where Stevie and Regina were trapped.
One at a time, the girls climbed up the ladder and then walked along the floor over the beam to the safety of the dining room, where they found Liza and Ann waiting for them with hugs.
Peter left the ladder in the hole. There was no point in bothering to pretend they hadn’t been there.
Stevie found herself overwhelmed with relief as she stood embracing her rescuers. She’d really thought they were going to be in there a lot longer and that their rescuers were going to be much more angry than relieved.
“How did you know we were stuck?” Stevie said.
“Regina’s mother called
,” said Ann.
“Oh, she must be going out of her gourd!” said Regina.
“Give us some credit,” said Ann. “She thinks you’re sleeping over at our place.”
“How’d you swing that?” Stevie asked.
“When you didn’t show up at ten, I guess your mom got worried. It was about eleven when she called. Our mother answered the phone. She knew a bunch of us had come in earlier, including Liza, and I think she just figured we were all together. I heard her on the phone. It was perfect. ‘Oh, no problem,’ she said. ‘The kids are all upstairs. They’re so quiet, they must be asleep. I’ll send them home in the morning.’ And that was it.”
“Mom didn’t want to bawl me out?” Regina asked.
“I guess not. I guess she figured as long as you guys were at our house, it was okay.”
“But you knew we weren’t,” Stevie said.
“Right. And we also knew you wouldn’t want your mother or anyone else to know that.”
“Weren’t you worried about us?” Regina asked. Stevie thought she must be wondering the same thing she was: Why had it taken them so long to come to the rescue?
“Of course we were,” said Ann. “Like crazy. But we couldn’t come over here until our parents were asleep. We sort of figured you two had gotten back to ghost stories and lost track of the time.”
“For four hours?” Regina asked.
Liza shrugged. “We’re here now. You’re safe. Want to complain about something else?”
“Thanks for coming back to get us,” Stevie said.
“No problem,” said Liza. “We were glad to be of service, at risk of life and limb—”
“Lots of problems, actually,” said Stevie. “So thanks. Say, does anybody want to get a good night’s sleep?”
She didn’t have to ask the question twice. As fast as they could, the five kids all returned to the basement, squeezed back through the window, and began the journey home. Stevie was the last one out. She looked behind her into the darkness, realizing they’d left the light on in the secret room. It didn’t matter. The contractor would certainly know that someone had been there. She didn’t think he’d ever be able to figure out who it was. She whispered good-bye into the shadows behind her. If there was one thing of which she was certain, it was that she would never return to that house again. Ever.
MAXI WAS CRYING and Stevie could hear her. She wasn’t far away, but she wasn’t close, either. The sound she made was a long moaning wail that cut into the night. It faded for a second and then came back, louder, more insistent.
“I’m coming!” Stevie called back, trying to reassure the child. Where was Carole? Where was Lisa? She had no idea. She was only aware of herself and the crying child. She couldn’t find Maxi. All she could do was hear her.
She reached out in the darkness. Her hand hit something. It was a lamp and it crashed loudly to the floor.
“What’s that?”
Stevie squinted in the dim light and realized it was Regina who had spoken.
“Someone was crying,” Stevie said, now sitting up in bed.
“What? I don’t hear any crying. What time is it? What’s going on?”
Stevie could only answer one of those questions, so she did. “It’s three-oh-four,” she said. She reached over and picked up the bedside lamp she’d so unceremoniously knocked to the floor. She tried the switch. It turned on. “What’s that sound?” she asked.
“Oh, that,” said Regina. “It’s a siren.”
Of course it was a siren. They had sirens in Willow Creek. Stevie heard them occasionally, but usually not late at night and never so close—except for the time the Ziegler twins had decided to have a barbecue in their fireplace without opening the flue. That had been pretty big excitement on the street where Stevie lived. But it had happened in the middle of a Saturday afternoon, not at 3:04 in the morning.
Regina lay back down on the pillow. She closed her eyes. “Let’s go back to sleep,” she said.
It seemed like an awfully good idea. They hadn’t been in bed very long at all. As soon as they’d left the old house, the kids had scurried back to their own homes and gotten into bed as fast as possible. Both girls were grateful that the garden door to the Evanses’ house had been unlocked. Otherwise they would’ve had to climb the fire escape to Regina’s window on the third floor, and frankly they’d had enough adventure for one night.
Now, though, there seemed to be more adventure going on. The sirens were getting louder and more insistent.
“They’re stopping!” said Regina.
“That’s good,” said Stevie.
“No it isn’t,” Regina replied.
“Why not?” Stevie asked. Although there were sirens in Willow Creek, they were much more common in New York, and Stevie recognized that Regina was going to be more of an expert on them than she was, especially in her sleepy state.
Regina explained patiently. “What you want with sirens is to have them fade away as the emergency vehicles pass by. These just got louder and stopped. Whatever they’re doing, it’s nearby. In fact, it’s on this block. C’mon.”
She slipped out of bed, grabbed a bathrobe, and slid her feet into slippers. Stevie followed her into the hall.
They went down a flight of stairs into the front room on the second floor. They pulled the curtains aside and lifted the shades. The whole street, narrow to begin with, was filled with police cars and emergency vehicles. There was a fire department rescue truck and two ambulances. All of them were clustered at the end of the block, right next to the building that had so recently been Stevie and Regina’s prison.
Stevie’s voice stuck in her throat before she could ask the question that Regina sputtered out.
“Did—Did the fire come back?”
The girls opened the window as wide as they could and hung out to get a better look. One glance answered that question. There were no fire trucks, just other emergency vehicles. Whatever the problem was, it wasn’t fire.
Stevie thought about sighing with relief, but the fact that the place was filled with emergency vehicles right after they’d been stuck in it suggested to her that perhaps all this activity might have something to do with them.
“What’s going on, girls?”
It was Mrs. Evans, standing behind them, also wearing her bathrobe and slippers.
“Beats me,” said Regina.
Stevie thought that was a good answer.
“Elisa?” Stevie recognized her own mother’s voice. “Oh, Stevie,” her mother said. “Well, good morning, ladies. Some wake-up system you have in this city!”
The mothers laughed. Stevie and Regina weren’t quite so sure a laugh was in order.
“Gee, what are you girls doing here?” Mrs. Evans asked. “I thought you were over at Peter’s house.”
In the confusion of the escape and their overwhelming desire to be someplace safe and familiar, both girls had completely forgotten that Peter’s mother had told Mrs. Evans they were staying over there. Regina, ever fast on her feet, came up with an answer. “Stevie got homesick,” she said.
That earned Stevie a strange look from her mother, who knew perfectly well that Stevie never got homesick, but there was so much else going on at that moment that she didn’t inquire any further. Stevie hoped she never would.
“Well, come on,” said Mrs. Evans, mercifully changing the subject. “We’re not going to learn anything standing here. Let’s join the rest of our neighbors on the street and see what’s really going on.”
For the first time Stevie noticed that a crowd was collecting on the corner. She smiled as she watched them. There was a large cluster of people, most of them in pajamas and bathrobes, some in quickly assembled outfits, all trying to determine what was going on.
Mrs. Evans tucked a set of house keys into her bathrobe pocket and led the way down the stairs and out into the street.
If a lot of that evening had already been surreal to Stevie, standing out on the street that night might have been
the most surreal. Nobody had any idea what was going on, but Stevie and Regina, who did have an idea of what was going on, were most confused of all. Or at least Stevie suspected they had an idea.
“Do you think we set off some kind of alarm?” Regina asked.
“Probably not,” said Stevie. “If there was an alarm system, we would have tripped it ages ago—like the first time we were in there.”
“Okay, so what’s going on?”
“The contractor came back and saw that the place had been broken into?” Stevie suggested. That seemed like a very real possibility.
“At three o’clock in the morning?” Regina asked.
Maybe it wasn’t such a real possibility after all.
Nearby, Mrs. Evans was greeting neighbors. The big question on everybody’s lips was “What’s going on?”
“I heard there was a homeless person living in there,” one person said. “Maybe they’re just evicting him.”
“At three o’clock in the morning?” Regina whispered to Stevie. They exchanged smiles.
“Oh, no,” said another neighbor. “It’s the Perseys—they’re the ones who own the place. I think they’re moving in this week.”
“At three o’clock in the morning?” Stevie whispered to Regina.
It was funny that the two of them had some pretty dumb ideas about what was going on, but it seemed the adults’ ideas were even dumber!
“It must be bad, whatever it is,” said another neighbor. “Otherwise we wouldn’t need all these rescue trucks.”
That made sense.
By the time Stevie, Regina, and their mothers had arrived on the scene, all the emergency vehicles were parked and empty, so it was clear that the emergency rescue people had already gone in. They began coming out, emptyhanded.
“I guess there’s nobody to rescue,” Stevie observed quietly.
“We already knew that,” said Regina.
But the trucks didn’t leave. In fact, more police cars and detectives arrived. And then a large van pulled up and four men went into the house. They were in there a long time.
“I guess they found a body,” said the neighbor who had been convinced the Perseys were moving in that night.
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