Bait for a Burglar (5 page)

“Everything's okay now, Aunt Marsha. Calm down,” Holly said. She introduced Brian and Mark and told her aunt what had happened and how she'd gone all through the house with Detective Kerry.

“How did the burglar get in?” Marsha asked.

Holly looked surprised, but Brian had done the same kind of investigating that Detective Kerry had. They had both noted the scratches around the back-door lock.

Brian showed them to Marsha and Holly and pointed out, “You don't have deadbolts. Almost anyone could open a lock like this one.”

“That settles it. We're having deadbolts installed today, if possible,” Marsha insisted. “Here and at my house, too.”

As Marsha drove Holly and Mark back to the television studio, Holly shouted out the car window, “Same place tomorrow afternoon at four-thirty!”

Brian walked toward home, but when he turned the corner he saw a police cruiser and a few neighbors in a cluster at the end of the Robinsons' driveway.

Sean suddenly broke from the group and ran to meet Brian.

“The Robinsons' house was hit by a burglar!” he yelled. “Mrs. Clooney was collecting the mail and watering the Robinsons' plants while they're on vacation, and she noticed that the back door was open!”

“What was taken?” Brian asked.

“Mrs. Clooney saw that their computer and printer and VCR were missing, but she doesn't know what else.” Sean lowered his voice. “Do you think it was the High-Tech Burglar?”

“I think so,” Brian said. He told Sean what had happened at Holly's house and added, “I'd better call Detective Kerry and tell him about the van I saw in the Robinsons' driveway.”

Brian left a message, but it wasn't until nine o'clock that Kerry returned his call.

“We traced the van's license plates and a clear shot of the man's face that Mark got on film, and we came up with a positive I.D.,” Detective Kerry said. “His name is Zeke Cunningham. He has a long record of burglaries, and he's now out of prison on probation. In the past he's operated out of San Francisco.”

“Then that's where he's probably selling the stolen stuff,” Brian said.

“That's what we think,” Detective Kerry said.

“Does Zeke have any relatives or friends in Redoaks?” Brian asked.

“We're checking,” Kerry answered. “But we haven't come up with anything. His only known relative is a sister named Barbara Cunningham. The address we have for her is in Ohio. We've asked the Cincinnati police to contact her.”

“But Zeke must have some kind of connection here in Redoaks.”

“Right,” Kerry said. “Someone who knows which people are out of town and when they'll return.”

Like Mrs. Martinez? Brian thought. He knew he should tell his suspicions to Detective Kerry, but he couldn't. If Brian were responsible for Mrs. Martinez being arrested, it would mean the end of his friendship with Estella.

Withholding information would be wrong, Brian knew. But he didn't have real, factual information. It was still only guesswork.

Brian gulped and said, “Thanks for your help, Detective Kerry. I hope you catch Zeke soon.”

T
HE TELEPHONE RANG AS
soon as Brian's call with Detective Kerry had ended. Brian was surprised to find it was Jack. “I—uh—I've got to talk to you,” Jack said. “Have you got a minute?”

“Sure,” Brian said.

“It's…well, it's about my camera. I'm telling you, Brian, because you stood up for me when Holly…” He sighed and said, “I made a mistake getting so mad at Holly that I didn't…well, tell the truth.”

Brian gripped the phone. “What are you talking about, Jack?”

“My camera,” Jack said. “I shouldn't have brought it to the station, but I did because I was so proud of it.”

“But you said you hadn't told the truth,” Brian said. “What did you mean by that?”

“Oh. I told Holly I bought the camera myself, and I didn't. Just between you and me, Brian, my grandparents gave me the camera as a reward for staying out of trouble. I couldn't tell Holly that. I'd never hear the end of it.”

Brian gave a huge sigh of relief. “It's okay, Jack,” he said, and chuckled. “Holly doesn't have to know everything.”

“Speaking of Holly, I heard that her house almost got robbed and you guys saw the robber,” Jack said.

“How'd you hear that?” Brian asked. “We were supposed to keep quiet about it.”

“She didn't tell me it was a secret,” Jack said.

“She? Who's
she
? Holly?”

“No, Estella,” Jack said. “But Holly may have told her.”

“Yeah,” Brian said. That lump was coming back in his stomach. He managed to say goodbye to Jack, then leaned against the wall, trying to think. It might not have been Holly who told Estella. It might have been…to Brian's surprise, the facts were beginning to add up to another possible answer.

Sean stopped in front of Brian. “What's the matter with you, Bri? You look weird.”

“We've got to talk,” Brian told him. “I learned a couple of things tonight that you should know, too. The Casebusters have got to get busy.”

Brian told Sean about the phone conversations with Detective Kerry and with Jack.

Then he took a deep breath and said, “I don't have to film until four-thirty, so right after school you and I are going to the Martinez Travel Agency. There's one very important question we have to ask.”

Sean looked puzzled. “Ask who?”

“I've got to think about it some more,” Brian answered. “Okay?”

“Sure, okay,” Sean said. He studied Brian. “It has to do with Estella, doesn't it?”

“I told you,” Brian said, “that I've got to do some more thinking.” He felt a cold chill run up and down his backbone as he wondered if he was right and if his idea would really work.

The next afternoon Brian and Sean set off on their bikes for town.

“C'mon this way,” Brian said. “Let's take the side streets. We'll get to the travel agency faster than if we have to deal with the traffic on the boulevard.”

“Are you sure this will work?” Sean asked.

“All we can do is try,” Brian said.

“Bri,” Sean said.

“I mean, a lot depends on the answer, but—”

“Bri,” Sean tried again.

“If she—”

“Listen to me!” Sean interrupted. “There's a white van back there. It turned off when we did. I think he's following us.”

“White van?” Brian turned around, trying to catch a look at the driver.

The van speeded up, heading straight for Brian and Sean.

“Help!” Sean yelled, but no one was around to hear or see what was happening.

“He's going to run us down!” Sean shouted.

“On the sidewalk! Quick!” Brian yelled.

He and Sean jumped the curb and cut across the yard of the house on the corner. They heard the smack of tires as the van leaped the curb and came after them.

“The trees!” Brian called to Sean. “Make for the trees!”

As they shot between two trees they heard the screech of the van's brakes. Its wheels ground up chunks of lawn and mud as it backed up.

A woman ran out of the house, screaming at the driver of the van. Someone in a big station wagon drove up and honked at him. A couple of neighbors appeared.

The van bounced onto the street, did a U-turn, and sped away.

“Are you boys all right?” the woman called to Brian and Sean. “He could have killed you!”

“We're okay, thanks,” Brian said.

“But awfully scared,” Sean whispered.

“I got his license number,” the woman said, “and the name of the house painting company on the side of his van. I'll call the police.”

The driver of the station wagon held up a cellular phone. “I already called them.”

A police car arrived within a few minutes, and Brian and Sean told the officer that the van had sped up, heading for them, and they had escaped by riding through a cluster of trees.

The neighbors verified the story and added information of their own. After writing down names and addresses and taking some photos of the torn-up lawn, the police officer left.

“Should we go home?” Sean asked Brian as they headed down the street.

“No,” Brian said. “The High-Tech Burglar will try to stay out of sight to avoid the police who'll come looking for him. What we need to do most is catch him. That's why we have to visit the travel agency.”

As they entered the agency Brian and Sean could see that both Mrs. Martinez and Miss Garrett were busy with customers. Mrs. Martinez looked up and gave them a smile, but Miss Garrett was giggling with her customer about something funny that had happened in a restaurant in Mexico City.

Brian and Sean began looking through a stack of travel brochures near Miss Garrett's desk. But gradually and quietly, Brian began moving behind the desk. Suddenly he said loudly, “Barbara Cunningham?”

Miss Garrett half turned and answered, “Yes?”

Her mouth dropped open. She managed to pull herself together and said, “I'm not—”

“Yes, you are,” Brian told her. “You're Zeke Cunningham's sister. You've been helping him to steal from empty homes in Redoaks by letting him know who is going out of town and how long they'll be away from home.”

“What?” Mrs. Martinez dropped her pencil and stood up.

Miss Garrett's customer gave a little shriek. “That can't be true!” she said. “Dana's the most helpful, most friendly travel agent I've ever met.”

“Is it friendliness or nosiness?” Brian asked. “I've heard Miss Garrett with her customers. She finds out all sorts of things, like if they have an alarm system, if they own a dog, and if it will be boarded. She gets all the information she needs to pass on to her brother, Zeke Cunningham.”

Brian motioned to Sean. “Use one of those phones over there to call Detective Kerry.”

“Now, wait a minute,” Miss Garrett said. She tried to rise, but Mrs. Martinez stepped up behind her and firmly pushed her back into her chair.

“Please stay here until the police come, Dana,” Mrs. Martinez said.

Miss Cunningham squirmed, trying to break loose from Mrs. Martinez's grip. “Are you going to pay any attention to these boys?” Miss Cunningham complained. “They're nothing but a couple of kids.”

“Correction,” Sean said. “We're a couple of kids who help our dad and the police solve crimes. We're the Casebusters.”

“And TV reporters, too,” Brian added. He thought about Estella and how happy she'd be with his story. He couldn't help grinning with relief.

“As soon as Detective Kerry gets here, I'll call the news desk at Channel Two,” Brian said. “There's plenty of time for the story about the capture of the High-Tech Burglars to make the evening news.”

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This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, businesses, companies, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

Text © 1997 by Joan Lowery Nixon

cover design by Omar Olivera & Andrea C. Uva

978-1-4532-8284-7

This edition published in 2012 by Open Road Integrated Media

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New York, NY 10014

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