Nobody's There

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Authors: Joan Lowery Nixon
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information about picking up cell phone numbers?” Abbie asked as Mrs. Merkel ended the conversation and tucked her phone away.
    â€œI told you, I read a lot. There are news stories every once in a while about people driving slow past houses, trying to catch a cell phone in use. They can get the numbers easy and then make a lot of long distance calls using them. So why shouldn’t a crook figure out just what I did, that it would be even easier to just park across from a store that’s doing a booming business in selling cell phones and offering free calls?”
    â€œYou really are good at figuring things out,” Abbie said in wonder. “Did you ever actually work for the police?”
    â€œWork for the police? Ha!” Mrs. Merkel exclaimed.
    Before Mrs. Merkel could launch into a diatribe against the police, Abbie asked, “Did your husband? Did you learn police tactics from him?”
    Mrs. Merkel turned to face Abbie, who imagined she could feel the woman’s glare drilling into her forehead. “What I learned from my husband was to never trust a man—especially one who started out full of sweet talk and flattery and pretty gifts he sent me from foreign ports. The day he walked out on me I was through with him forever, and that includes answering stupid questionsabout him. Never ask me about him again. You hear me?”
    â€œI hear you,” Abbie said, “and I’m sorry I asked. I didn’t know.” Trying to make amends, she said, “I know how rough that must have been on you and your children.”
    â€œWe never had children,” Mrs. Merkel answered. “The only kin I’ve got is a good-for-nothing lazy nephew from his side of the family. Charlie Merkel is almost as worthless as his uncle was. But he does come down from Dallas a couple of times a year to patch up things around my house. He tells me he wants to see how I am and help out if he can, but I know what he’s after.
    â€œLast time he was here he tried to borrow money—as if I’d be stupid enough to let him have any. If he runs up debts, that’s his problem. Charlie will be my heir since he’s the only relative, so he can darned well wait until he inherits my money someday.”
    She cackled and added, “It’ll serve him right if I outlive him—which I intend to do.”
    As a police car entered the parking lot, Mrs. Merkel shouted to Abbie, “Quick! Park in front of the crook! Block him off on this side!”
    â€œWhat if he has a gun?”
    â€œDo what I tell you!”
    No sooner had Abbie driven to face the gray sedan, nearly touching its bumper, than Mrs. Merkel jumped from the car.
    She arrived at the window of the sedan only a few seconds ahead of one of the police officers.
    â€œGotcha, you stupid crook!” Mrs. Merkel yelled at the man in the car.
    The officer glared at her. “Move out of the way, ma’am,” he ordered.
    â€œI want him to know that he wins the Stupid Crook of the Day award,” she shouted back.
    â€œMove,
now
!” the officer commanded as the man in the car yelled obscene threats at Mrs. Merkel.
    The second officer took Mrs. Merkel’s arm and led her back to Abbie’s car. “Pull back,” he said to Abbie. “Get your car away from here. You’re hampering the police.”
    Abbie was only too glad to comply. The threats the man had shouted, and his terrible anger, were scary. Not even waiting for Mrs. Merkel to fasten her seat belt, she drove out of the parking lot and into the street.
    Mrs. Merkel opened her window and stuck her head out. “He’s out of the car,” she reported to Abbie. “He’s leaning against it, his hands on the car. They’re patting him down, looking for weapons.”
    A smug, satisfied smile on her face, Mrs. Merkel sat back against the seat, fastened her seat belt, and rolled up the window. “Three crooks in one day,” she

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