it?”
“The best way is with . . . wire cutters,” Bess said. Then her eyes widened as she waved us away from the car and her dad. “You guys—remember how I told you that my dad’s wire cutters were missing from his toolshed?”
“So the guy who stole the wire cutters also cut Nancy’s brakes?” George asked.
The thought made my skin creep. “We already think someone is after the sisters,” I said. “Why would someone want me?”
“Because you’re a detective?” Bess suggested with a shrug. “And he doesn’t want you to find the sisters?”
“Right,” I said glumly.
We stopped talking as Mr. Marvin came over.
“I can replace the tubing, Nancy,” he said. “I can also get Charlie Adams and his emergency truck to pull the car out of the ditch.”
“Thanks, Mr. Marvin,” I said.
“But if this was an act of vandalism,” he said sternly, “it’s up to you to go to the police right away.”
“We were just about to go to the police,” I said. “We’ll definitely tell them everything.”
“ASAP,” Mr. Marvin reiterated, his face grave.
We watched as Bess’s father walked back to the house for his tools.
“I guess we’ll be taking your car, Bess,” I said, gazing sadly at my poor hybrid. I was happy to be alive, but worried about this stranger in my driveway. Who was he? If he was trying to stop us—me—from finding the sisters, what would he do next?
Once in Bess’s car, we tried to figure out everything we knew so far.
“So a guy wearing a white jacket was creeping around outside your house,” George told me from the backseat. “Who wears a jacket when it’s eighty-seven degrees?”
That was a tough question. Everyone we’d seen in town lately had on sleeveless or short-sleeved shirts. Everyone except . . .
“Mr. Safer!” I said. “He wears a clean white smock every day in his cheese shop.”
“Do you still think Mr. Safer had something to do with the sisters going missing?” Bess asked.
“Even if he was upset with Mandy, Mallory, and Mia,” George said, “why would he want to hurt you?”
“Like we said before—to keep me from finding out the truth,” I said. “Mr. Safer knows I’m a detective too.”
We were almost at the police station when Bess said, “My dad’s tools were stolen before Mr. Safer asked the sisters to be in his play. What reason would he have to do away with them then?”
“Good point,” I said, though I was still pretty suspicious of Mr. Safer’s weird behavior. And his white jacket.
Bess parked in front of the station. We stepped out of the car, and there was Deirdre Shannon coming out of the building. She looked at us, but kept walking.
“Deirdre, where are you going?” I called. “Aren’t we all going to speak to Chief McGinnis?”
“I’ve said everything I need to say,” Deirdre said, brushing past us.
“Okay,” George said when Deirdre was out of earshot. “Can someone tell me what that was all about?”
“It’s just Deirdre being Deirdre.” I sighed. “Come on. We don’t need her in order to speak to Chief McGinnis.”
The air-conditioned police station felt great as we walked inside. An officer behind the front desk told us to go directly into the chief’s office.
“Hello, Chief McGinnis,” I said as we filed in.
“I’ve been expecting you, girls,” Chief McGinnis said in his usual gruff voice. “Have a seat.”
Three chairs were facing the chief’s desk. I sat between Bess and George, eager to talk about the Casabians.
“Deirdre probably told you about Mandy, Mallory, and Mia, Chief McGinnis,” I said. “We suspect foul play. You see, one day when I went to their house, there was carbon—”
“I’d like to ask a few questions first, Nancy,” Chief McGinnis cut in.
“Sure,” I said, surprised at the interruption.
“Shoot,” George said, then quickly added, “I mean—ask away.”
The chief looked down at his notes and said, “Is it true you told Ned Nickerson that if you
“The best way is with . . . wire cutters,” Bess said. Then her eyes widened as she waved us away from the car and her dad. “You guys—remember how I told you that my dad’s wire cutters were missing from his toolshed?”
“So the guy who stole the wire cutters also cut Nancy’s brakes?” George asked.
The thought made my skin creep. “We already think someone is after the sisters,” I said. “Why would someone want me?”
“Because you’re a detective?” Bess suggested with a shrug. “And he doesn’t want you to find the sisters?”
“Right,” I said glumly.
We stopped talking as Mr. Marvin came over.
“I can replace the tubing, Nancy,” he said. “I can also get Charlie Adams and his emergency truck to pull the car out of the ditch.”
“Thanks, Mr. Marvin,” I said.
“But if this was an act of vandalism,” he said sternly, “it’s up to you to go to the police right away.”
“We were just about to go to the police,” I said. “We’ll definitely tell them everything.”
“ASAP,” Mr. Marvin reiterated, his face grave.
We watched as Bess’s father walked back to the house for his tools.
“I guess we’ll be taking your car, Bess,” I said, gazing sadly at my poor hybrid. I was happy to be alive, but worried about this stranger in my driveway. Who was he? If he was trying to stop us—me—from finding the sisters, what would he do next?
Once in Bess’s car, we tried to figure out everything we knew so far.
“So a guy wearing a white jacket was creeping around outside your house,” George told me from the backseat. “Who wears a jacket when it’s eighty-seven degrees?”
That was a tough question. Everyone we’d seen in town lately had on sleeveless or short-sleeved shirts. Everyone except . . .
“Mr. Safer!” I said. “He wears a clean white smock every day in his cheese shop.”
“Do you still think Mr. Safer had something to do with the sisters going missing?” Bess asked.
“Even if he was upset with Mandy, Mallory, and Mia,” George said, “why would he want to hurt you?”
“Like we said before—to keep me from finding out the truth,” I said. “Mr. Safer knows I’m a detective too.”
We were almost at the police station when Bess said, “My dad’s tools were stolen before Mr. Safer asked the sisters to be in his play. What reason would he have to do away with them then?”
“Good point,” I said, though I was still pretty suspicious of Mr. Safer’s weird behavior. And his white jacket.
Bess parked in front of the station. We stepped out of the car, and there was Deirdre Shannon coming out of the building. She looked at us, but kept walking.
“Deirdre, where are you going?” I called. “Aren’t we all going to speak to Chief McGinnis?”
“I’ve said everything I need to say,” Deirdre said, brushing past us.
“Okay,” George said when Deirdre was out of earshot. “Can someone tell me what that was all about?”
“It’s just Deirdre being Deirdre.” I sighed. “Come on. We don’t need her in order to speak to Chief McGinnis.”
The air-conditioned police station felt great as we walked inside. An officer behind the front desk told us to go directly into the chief’s office.
“Hello, Chief McGinnis,” I said as we filed in.
“I’ve been expecting you, girls,” Chief McGinnis said in his usual gruff voice. “Have a seat.”
Three chairs were facing the chief’s desk. I sat between Bess and George, eager to talk about the Casabians.
“Deirdre probably told you about Mandy, Mallory, and Mia, Chief McGinnis,” I said. “We suspect foul play. You see, one day when I went to their house, there was carbon—”
“I’d like to ask a few questions first, Nancy,” Chief McGinnis cut in.
“Sure,” I said, surprised at the interruption.
“Shoot,” George said, then quickly added, “I mean—ask away.”
The chief looked down at his notes and said, “Is it true you told Ned Nickerson that if you
Similar Books
