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stored patio furniture and a lawn mower. But then I remembered the apartment above the garage—the apartment occupied by our aunt.
    “Oh no!” I shouted. “Aunt Trudy!”

FIRED UP
10
JOE
    F RANK AND I CHARGED TOWARD THE BURNING garage. Mom and Dad watched silently, looking very worried as the firefighters worked on the blaze.
    “Mom, Dad,” I said, my voice cracking. “Is Aunt Trudy up there?”
    “We don’t know yet,” Mom said quietly. “One of the firefighters is climbing up to see.”
    Frank turned to me, his mouth a grim line. I didn’t have to read his mind to know he was thinking the same as me: Was this the work of the Scaredevils? Were they such evil psycho creeps they would target not only Frank and me, but our family, too?
    “I knew it,” Dad groaned, cutting into my thoughts. “Allthose smelly candles Trudy loves to burn. I warned her several times!”
    “Warned me about what?” came a voice.
    The four of us spun around. Standing right behind us was—
    “Aunt Trudy!” Frank exclaimed.
    “Where were you?” Dad asked, looking relieved.
    “At the movies, seeing that new action flick,” Aunt Trudy said. She stared at the now-smoldering garage. “But I guess there’s more action going on here!”
    Frank and I traded relieved smiles. Leave it to Aunt Trudy to crack a joke—even when her apartment was about to go up in flames. Luckily, the firefighters were getting the blaze out before it could spread that far.
    Chief Madison, the fire chief, came over to us with the report.
    “The garage has considerable damage,” he told us. “But the apartment upstairs is unscathed.”
    “Great,” Aunt Trudy said, walking toward the garage. “I’m going to catch up on my Dancing with the Stars —”
    “You can watch it in the house, Trudy,” Mom insisted. “Which is where you’ll be staying until we know your apartment is safe.”
    “And no more candles,” Dad said. “Please!”
    Aunt Trudy flapped her hand dismissively.
    “For your info, Fenton, I didn’t burn any candles today,” she insisted. “And if I did, I’d certainly have the brains to snuff it out before going to the movies.”
    “The fire couldn’t have started in Aunt Trudy’s apartment if there was no damage up there,” I said, turning to the fire chief. “Right?”
    “Right,” Chief Madison agreed. “The fire started in the garage, which isn’t uncommon. Lots of oily rags, clutter—”
    “Sabotage,” Frank cut in.
    Chief Madison stared at Frank. “Excuse me?” he asked. “Did you say sabotage?”
    “Someone could have set the fire as a prank,” Frank said.
    “Someone or someones,” I agreed.
    “Do you mean those kids who’ve been pulling pranks all over Bayport?” Mom asked. “You think they set fire to our garage?”
    “They’re not just any kids, Mom,” I said. “They’re a gang who call themselves the Scaredevils.”
    “We’ve heard about them,” Chief Madison said with a frown. “But setting a fire is a lot more serious than throwing eggs down a book drop.”
    “Whoa,” Aunt Trudy said. “Maybe I will stay in the house after all.”
    “We have tests to see where the fire started and how,” Chief Madison said. “But it might take a few days.”
    He walked away to join his ladder company.
    The damage wasn’t too bad, but it was enough to leave the garage unusable.
    “This is serious, guys,” Dad said. “I think you should go to the police first thing tomorrow and tell them what you know.”
    “You mean talk to Chief Olaf?” I grimaced. “I’d rather get a tooth filled.”
    “Dad, we just told Chief Olaf we thought the Scaredevils were targeting us,” Frank complained.
    “We told Olaf who the ringleader was,” I said. “But he didn’t even listen.”
    Mom turned to Dad, a worried look on her face. “Maybe you should go talk to the chief, Fenton,” she said. “Better yet, we both should.”
    “Good idea, Laura,” Dad said.
    Frank and I exchanged frantic looks. If Chief