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his head. “Not that I saw.”
    Something rang a bell in my mind. The flyer that came in the mail. The Civil War exhibition reopening at the town hall!
    â€œThe Civil War exhibition!” I gasped. “We got a flyer in the mail! It’s been reopened in the town hall. All the stuff went away to be cleaned and restored.”
    â€œYeah, but the town hall is right outside the police station,” said Joe doubtfully. “He wouldn’t be that stupid.”
    I shook my head. “I think that’s where the Phantom is going to strike. At eleven o’clock tonight.”
    â€¢Â Â â€¢Â Â â€¢
    At nine o’clock, Joe and I were sitting in our car a few houses down from Trethaway’s place.
    This time we had a plan. We still weren’t sure if the Phantom was Trethaway or Kruger or someone else entirely. My money was on Trethaway, but Joe was still stuck on Kruger.
    We had split into two groups. Amber and Chet had staked out Kruger’s workplace and followed him home. They were watching his house, while Joe and I took Trethaway’s. All of us had video cameras. This time our aim was to get solid evidence of the theft.
    Joe checked the battery in his video camera and switched it to night-vision mode. “Want to place a bet?” he asked.
    â€œOn?”
    â€œOn whether it’s Trethaway or Kruger.”
    â€œSure. Ten bucks?”
    â€œCome on. Put your money where your mouth is, bro. Twenty.”
    I held out my hand. “Deal.”
    About an hour later we saw Trethaway’s door open, and the man himself stepped outside. I leaned forward, and Joe focused the camera on him.
    He was wearing dark clothes—perfect for breaking and entering. He looked both ways down the street, then jogged to his car, slid behind the wheel, and drove off with a little spin of his tires.
    â€œHe’s in a hurry,” I pointed out, checking the rearview mirror before setting off after him. “Looks like you might owe me twenty bucks.”
    I kept my distance as we tailed Trethaway through the city streets. There was enough late-night traffic that even if he had looked in his mirrors, he wouldn’t have noticed we were following him.
    Still filming, Joe picked up the two-way radio we were using to stay in touch with Chet and Amber.
    â€œGuys? Any movement on your side?”
    There was a hiss and crackle, and then Chet’s tinny voice echoed through the car. “Delta One, remember?”
    â€œHuh?” said Joe.
    â€œUse the proper code names. Delta One and Delta Two. Come on. You gotta do this properly.”
    Joe rolled his eyes at me. “Fine. Delta Two to Delta One. Come in, Delta One.”
    â€œDelta One here. No movement in target’s house. Everything dark.”
    I frowned. “Everything dark? Not even a single light?”
    â€œNo, no lights on at all. Looks like nobody’s at home.”
    That was a bit worrisome. Why would Kruger be out at this time? Unless he was asleep already?
    I gestured for Joe to hand over the radio as I eased to a stop at a traffic light. Trethaway had made it through before the light turned red, but I could still see him up ahead.
    â€œGuys, do me a favor and go knock on his door. Make it loud. We need to know if he’s in there or not.”
    Amber’s voice came over the speaker. “Sure. Give us a couple of minutes.”
    I handed the radio back. The light had turned green, so I hit the gas and headed off to find our target.
    Only problem was, he had disappeared.
    I slowed down, searching the road ahead, checking the cars parked along the sidewalk. Joe was staring out the passenger window, trying to see if he had pulled off onto any side streets.
    â€œYou think he saw us?” he asked.
    â€œNah. We weren’t tailing him too closely.”
    â€œYeah, but what if he’s paranoid?” Joe said. “He was in prison for a while.”
    I hadn’t thought of that. Up