Read Online The Dead Man in Indian Creek by Mary Downing Hahn - Free Book Online Page A

trash, Parker grabbed his denim jacket. "It's time to go," he said.
    Opening the kitchen door, he stood there a minute, staring at the trees behind his house. The sky was a pure deep black, and the stars shone so brightly and in such numbers, you would have thought you were in a planetarium.
    "Couldn't we just go trick or treating instead?" I asked.
    But Parker was already halfway down his back steps, whistling for Otis. The way that dog acted, he must've known Parker wanted to lock him in the house. Instead of coming, he plunged off into the shadows, barking like a lunatic. Even when Parker banged his food dish up and down on the porch railing, Otis wouldn't come.
    "Darn that dog," Parker said and threw Otis's dish into the backyard.
    Then the two of us ran off in the opposite direction from Otis, hoping to lose him. The last thing we wanted was to have him follow us out to the Olde Mill and start barking like last time.
    Even though it was still early, most of the trick or treaters had come and gone, and the streets had an empty, late-night feeling. A breeze rattled the limbs of the trees and sent the last of the leaves scurrying down the sidewalk behind us. The sound they made had a spooky edge to it, and I found myself looking over my shoulder from time to time, just to make sure it was only leaves following us.
    When somebody shouted Parker's name, I jumped like a startled rabbit before I realized it was Jennifer. With Melissa and Linda flanking her like halfbacks, she ran down Blake Street toward us. The three of them were dressed as hoboes, and their bags bulging with Halloween goodies flapped against their legs. Tiffany and Charity were scurrying along behind them, almost tripping over their long skirts and big bags.
    "How much candy did you get?" Melissa asked breathlessly.
    "They don't have any," Linda said. Her sharp little eyes never missed a thing. "They've probably been soaping car windows."
    Ignoring her friends, Jennifer smiled at Parker and offered him her bag. "Want some?"
    Parker stuck in his hand and pulled out a Hershey bar. "Thanks," he said.
    "Don't give Matthew any," Melissa said. "He might throw up."
    I glared at her, but, before I could think of anything to say, Jennifer thrust her bag at me.
    "Have some, Matt," she said.
    As I searched with my fingers for something as good as Parker's Hershey bar, Jennifer invited us to go trick or treating with her and the others. Obviously displeased, Melissa and Linda started whispering to each other, while Charity and Tiffany urged Jennifer to take them to Appleton Street immediately.
    "Miss Goldberg always has good stuff," Tiffany shrilled.
    "And Mrs. O'Malley gives bubble gum," Charity yelled before turning to me. "But not to boys," she said. "Just to pretty little girls like me and Tiffany."
    I busied myself unwrapping a Baby Ruth bar and tried to ignore Charity. Maybe if we hung around long enough, Jennifer would offer us some more candy or Parker would agree to go trick or treating with her.
    "Thanks for the invitation," I heard Parker tell Jennifer, "but we've got something else to do."
    I opened my mouth to protest, but Parker was already walking toward Windsor Road, so I smiled at Jennifer and shrugged, hoping she'd realize it wasn't my idea to go running off. As I hurried after Parker, I heard Charity yell, "If you soap any cars, I'm telling Daddy!"

11
    W HEN WE GOT THERE, the Olde Mill was dark, and the parking lot was empty. Behind it, the woods were an inky mass of J shadows beneath the starry sky. The last crickets of the year were chirping softly, and from somewhere far away I heard a dog bark. Otherwise it was very quiet.
    Parker ran noiselessly across the gravel and disappeared around the corner of the shop. Reluctantly I followed him about as silently as an elephant on the rampage. Parker would have made a good Indian, I thought. But not me. I was the kind who would have been left at camp to guard the women.
    We tried the doors first, but they