Read Online Claudia and the Phantom Phone Calls by Ann M. Martin - Free Book Online Page B

creak, squish.
    In the dark, Charlotte’s hand found Stacey’s. She held on tight.
    Creak, squish, creak, squish.
    â€œSomething’s coming up the stairs!” cried Charlotte softly.
    â€œShhh,” was all Stacey said, but she told me later that what she was thinking was, Ohmigosh! It’s the Phantom. He turned off the electricity to distract us, and now he’s sneaking into the Johanssens’ house through the basement!
    Creak, squish.
The sound was closer. It had almost reached the top of the stairs.
    Stacey was just about to tell Charlotte to start heading for the back door when the creaking stopped. It was followed by a
woof!
    Stacey jumped about a foot, but Charlotte exclaimed, “Carrot! Oh, it’s just Carrot! He must have come in through the basement again. There’s a broken window down there.”
    â€œWho’s Carrot?”
    â€œOur schnauzer. He must be sopping. I’ll try to find a towel so we can dry him off.”
    And at that moment, the lights came back on. Stacey and Charlotte looked at each other and began to giggle. Then they did dry off the poor,rain-drenched Carrot, and they even watched some more of
Spook Theatre.
    Outside the storm died down, and the rest of the evening was peaceful. The phone didn’t ring once while Stacey was at the Johanssens’.

Saturday, October 25
    This evening I baby-sat for David Michael. The rest of the Thomases went out for dinner with Watson and Karen and Andrew, but David Michael had to stay at home in bed because he’s got a cold. I like baby-sitting for David Michael. He’s almost like my brother. I’ve known him since he was born. And he’s usually pretty good. But tonight, since he’s sick, he fell asleep very early, and I felt all alone. I couldn’t think of anything except prowlers and weird phone calls and especially the Phantom. The weatherwas fine—a little breezy but not stormy—and there were lots of funny shows on TV, but I was still spooked….
    Spooked isn’t the word. Mary Anne was practically out of her mind. She was just sitting quietly on the couch, watching an old
I Love Lucy
episode, when suddenly she got goose pimples all along her arms. She jumped up, turned down the volume on the TV, and listened. Nothing. Not a thing. Even so, she dashed upstairs to check on David Michael. He was lying on his side, breathing noisily, a box of Kleenex next to him. Mary Anne left the hall light on and went back downstairs.
    She closed every open closet door and turned on two more lights. Then she closed off the laundry room, in case someone was hiding in there. Finally, she pulled down the venetian blinds in the den. But still she didn’t feel safe, even though Louie, the Thomases’ dog, was in the house with her.
    What if someone sneaks inside while I’m watching TV? she thought. That was when she decided to rig up the burglar alarms. All three of them.
    Now, the thing about Mary Anne Spier is that she may be quiet, and she may be shy, but she
does
have a good sense of humor and a good imagination. You’d have to, to think up the alarms that Mary Anne rigged in the Thomases’ house.
    Well, actually, the first one wasn’t much in terms of imagination. It was the alarm Mary Anne had described at our emergency club meeting the week before: a big stack of pots, pans, and cans from the kitchen built up against the inside of the door into the garage. If anyone tried to get in from the garage, the door would push the stack over and it would crash down, alerting Mary Anne, who would be able to escape out another door and call the police. The burglar might even be so startled that he’d turn around and leave.
    Mary Anne finished her alarm, sat down in front of the TV again, and immediately decided she ought to rig up the front door, too. She was pretty sure a prowler wouldn’t come right through the front door, but you can never tell with prowlers. She