Part 5 (1/2)

Half an hour went by.

”1 guess it was a joke,” I whispered at last. ”Maybe someone thought we'd think the note was funny, or that we wouldn't believe it.” ”Maybe Sam did it,” suggested Kristy glumly.

Just as she finished speaking, I saw a flash of red across the field.

”Look!” I cried softly, pointing.

Kristy's head snapped up.

The two of us jerked to attention. We watched as a boy stepped into Brenner Field. He looked from left to right several times, as if he expected to see something ... or someone. Then he shaded his eyes and stared toward the big rock.

”His hands are empty,” I whispered to Kristy in disappointment. ”He doesn't have Tigger with him.” Kristy made a sad face but didn't say any- thing, since we were supposedly being as quiet as possible.

The boy crept through the field, looking from left to right and behind him.

Suddenly I gasped.

Kristy looked at me around the back of the tree.

”That's the kid I met when I was putting up posters,” I whispered indignantly. ”He's the one who pretended he'd seen Tigger.” Kristy frowned. We returned to our watching.

The boy reached the big rock. He saw the white envelope with the stone on top, brushed the stone away, and pocketed the envelope. He didn't even look inside it. Then he began to walk off.

”Hold it!” someone shouted.

Logan leaped out of the hiding place Kristy had shown him. He ran for the boy, but the boy raced away.

In a flash, we were all after the kid. Logan caught up with him first and grabbed him. Then the rest of us - all six of us - surrounded him.

”Where's Tigger?” I demanded.

”Tigger?” the boy repeated.

”That's right.” ”I don't know what you're talking about.” ”You mean you can't remember those posters you watched me put up?” Kristy, standing next to me, was smiling. I could imagine her saying, ”Way to go, Mary Anne.” I don't usually stand up for myself.

”Oh, um,” stammered the boy, ”yeah, those posters. Now I remember. Tigger is a missing . . . skunk?” ”Kitten,” replied Logan through clenched teeth. ”And where is he?” ”Where is he?” ”Yeah. You've got your envelope,” said Logan fiercely. ”Now give us Tigger.” ”After I see what's in the envelope.” Logan moved as quickly as a striking rattlesnake. One second the envelope was in the boy's hand, the next second it was in Logan's. ”Give us Tigger and I'll give your money back,” he said.

I widened my eyes. All this for Tigger? (And maybe for me?) ”Give me the money and I'll tell you where Tigger is,” countered the boy.

”No way,” said Kristy. ”And remember, it's seven against one.” ”And we can wait around all afternoon. All night, if necessary,” added Jessi.

The boy scowled. ”Okay, okay,” he said.

Ill Goody, I thought. Now comes the part where he tells us where Tigger is.

”I don't have your stupid cat,” the boy went on. ”I just said I did so I could earn some fast money.” ”You little - ”I began, but Dawn put her hand on my arm. I knew she meant, Don't let him know he got to you. I changed course. ”What a stupid thing to do!” I exclaimed. ”It didn't work, did it? You got caught, and now you look like a fool!” ”Whoa,” said Kristy under her breath.

If the boy could have backed up then, I think he would have. But he turned round and saw Mallory blocking his path. No way out. He began to look scared.

”What's your name, kid?” asked Logan.

”I - I'm not telling. I mean, why do you want to know?” ”Do you know that what you did is a felony?” I have no idea whether this is true, since Logan can make things up pretty easily, but it sure sounded good.

”It is?” ”Yes. And in the state of Connecticut, it's punishable by twenty-five to fifty years in the slammer. Even for juvenile offenders.” Now I knew Logan was just talking. He loves to use cop-show words like those.

”We could make a citizens' arrest,” Logan went on. He looked around at us and we nodded as if to say, The seven of us are in agreement on eyen/thing.

”Are you going to?” asked the boy. ”Arrest me, I mean?” Logan looked at us girls. Then just at me.

I shook my head. ”Nope. He's not worth it.” (The boy let out a breath he must have been holding for at least five minutes. That's how deep it sounded.) ”So let go of him and show him the money,” I said. ”Let him see what he's missing.” Logan grinned. ”Sure thing.” He opened the envelope and pulled out the Monopoly bills.

”That's all you'd have gotten away with anyway,” I told the kid.

”That? Fake money?” he cried.

”Well, it just goes to show,” spoke up Claudia. ”Crime really doesn't pay.” She grinned.

Everyone laughed except the boy, who looked disgusted. We moved aside and let him escape. He ran through the field the way he had come, and disappeared. The rest of us walked back to my neighborhood.

Our adventure was over. But where was Tigger?

Chapter 13.

That was a horrible thought, but Claudia certainly wasn't the only one to think it. I'd thought of it the very first night Tigger was gone, and it had been hanging over me like a dark cloud ever since. You can't help but wonder about the worst possibilities, yet you tell yourself all along that they could never happen. Anyway, Claudia's notebook entry didn't surprise or offend me.

It was Wednesday, the day after our rendezvous with the jerky kid in Brenner Field. My friends and I were trying to get back on normal schedules. I wanted to search for Tigger, but I had a feeling it would be pointless. I would just have to keep my eyes and ears open and let the posters do their work. So I was baby-sitting for Kerry and Hunter Bruno again, and Claudia was at the Perkinses'.

Myriah and Gabbie are really great kids. This is the truth. I knew it from the very first time I baby-sat for them. They adore Laura, their baby sister, they love to sing and dance, and they're very imaginative. Most kids just play house. You should see the games they invent. The afternoon that Claudia was there they played detective games.

When Claudia arrived, Mrs. Perkins re- minded her where the emergency numbers were posted. Then she gave Claud a few instructions, and she and Laura left. Claudia sat down at the kitchen table, where the girls were having a snack. Her first thought as she sat down was one I always have when I'm at the Perkinses': How weird to think that this used to be Kristy's house. It doesn't look the same from the inside, and it doesn't even feel the same. I guess that's good. It would be too weird if it looked and felt the same as ever.

Claudia watched Myriah and Gabbie, who were dunking Oreos in gla.s.ses of milk. ”What do you want to do today, you guys?” she asked.

”Gosh,” replied Myriah, ”there are so many things.” Claudia smiled. She wouldn't mind being five again. ”Like what?” she asked.

”Like dancing or singing or making up a play.” ”Sounds like fun. Which do you want to do, Gabbers?” ”Mm, let me think.” Gabbie put down her gla.s.s of milk. ”I would like to sing, Claudee Kis.h.i.+,” she replied. (Gabbie calls most people by their full names.) ”I would like to sing Christmas songs.” ”Christmas songs!” exclaimed Claudia. ”But Christmas is months away.” ”That doesn't matter,” Myriah spoke up.

”I guess not,” said Claudia.

Myriah and Gabbie jumped up from the table. ”We know 'White Christmas,' ” said Myriah. ”And I'll Be Home for Christmas” Claudia was surprised. They did? What about the simple songs like ”Jingle Bells” or ”Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer?” But the Per-kins girls know a lot of long, grown-up songs. And sure enough, they knew both of these, word for word. They performed them with hand motions and everything.

Claudia was impressed. ”Hurray!” she cried, clapping her hands. ”Hurray!” The girls took bows. ”Thank you, thank you,” they said.

”And now,” Myriah went on, as if she and Gabbie were putting on a show, ”we will perform that oldy but goody, 'Blue Suede Shoes,' by Mr. Elvis Presley.” Claudia was even more impressed. Apparently, Myriah and Gabbie knew an entire rock and roll song - and she didn't. Furthermore, for years Claudia had thought the singer's name was Elbow Presley.