Parker grabbed me and dragged me up Jennifer's back steps. He banged on the door till Jennifer lifted a corner of the shade and peeked out the window. In the meantime, King Tut had sunk his teeth in my leg, and Otis was prancing around Parker and me, his toenails clicking on the porch, his whole body wagging.
"Parker," Jennifer mouthed through the glass. "What are you doing here?"
"Let us in," Parker whispered. "It's an emergency."
Jennifer opened the door a crack. "I'm home alone baby-sitting," she said, "And Mom said I couldn't have anyone in the house."
Without another word, Parker pushed right past Jennifer, and we crowded through the door. Otis came too, and so did King Tut, still hanging on to my leg like a leech.
"Lock it!" Parker cried and helped Jennifer slide the deadbolt into place. Then he turned out the light and the three of us dropped to the floor, too scared to move.
"What's going on?" Jennifer whispered. She was staring at the doll.
"We're in big trouble," Parker said.
I had finally pried King Tut off my leg, mainly because he'd gotten interested in something else. He was staring at the kitchen door, growling deep in his throat, his body rigid. At the same moment, Otis forgot about the trashcan he'd been investigating and growled too.
The porch light was on, and I could see the shadow of a man looming up against the window in the door. Luckily the blind was down, so he couldn't see us crouching on the floor.
"Don't open the door, no matter what he says," Parker whispered.
Jennifer shook her head. I knew she wouldn't open that door for anything on earth.
"If Parker Pettengill is in there, please tell him his mother wants him." It was Evans, trying to sound just as nice and polite as he did when the old ladies with blue hair pulled up to his shop.
Jennifer whimpered a little, but she didn't say a word. King Tut and Otis, united by a shared danger, were still barking and growling, and I was making myself as small as possible.
"Parker," Evans said, "come on out. You and Matthew were supposed to be home by ten."
Evans's charming voice made it sound as if this were a simple case of a curfew violation, but no one was fooled. Otis hurled himself at the door so hard it shuddered, and King Tut leaped about hysterically. If only he'd been born a mastiff instead of a little poodle, I thought. With his disposition, he would have torn Evans into pieces and eaten him live.
The doorknob turned then, but the lock protected us. I looked at the window and imagined the glass breaking and Evans's hand coming in to open the door from the inside. And maybe that would have happened, if a car hadn't entered the driveway. As its headlights swept the kitchen, Jennifer whispered, "It's my parents."
At the same moment, we heard Evans run down the steps.
"What should we do?" I asked.
"Hide in the basement," Jennifer said, pushing us toward the stairs. "And keep that dog quiet."
Dragging Otis with us, we ran down the steps, through the recreation room, and into the laundry room. As the three of us crowded into a corner behind the dryer, we heard the back door open and the sound of parental voices asking if Tiffany had gone to bed on time and what was King Tut barking about? Had he upset the trashcan and made that mess all over the floor?
After answering their questions, we heard Jennifer tell her mother she wanted to see the rest of a movie she was watching in the basement. In a few seconds, she joined us in the laundry room.
Before we could explain what was going on, the doorbell chimed. Jennifer crept back up the stairs and peered out. "It's Mr. Evans," she whispered down to us.
As Parker grabbed Otis to keep him quiet, we heard Evans say, "Good evening, Mrs. Irwin. I'm looking for Parker Pettengill and Matthew Armentrout. Are they here?"
"Certainly not," Mr. Irwin said.
"Jennifer isn't allowed to have anyone in the house when we're out," Mrs. Irwin added.
"I'm sorry," Evans said, "but I'm sure I saw Jennifer let the boys in."
"You must be mistaken," Mr. Irwin said.
"Could I just talk to Jennifer then?" Evans persisted. "Parker's mother is so worried about him. He's been threatening to run away and she's just about at her wits' end. You can't imagine what she's gone through with that boy. The lies, the drugs, the sneaking around...." Mr. Evans let his voice trail off suggestively as if there was more, much more he could say about Parker but decency forbade him to go on.
"I'm afraid we can't help," Mr. Irwin said, but at the same moment Mrs. Irwin called Jennifer.
Making a face, Jennifer left Parker and me in our corner, feeling helpless. All we could do now was hope Evans wouldn't trick Jennifer into giving us away.
13
AFTER FIVE MINUTES or so, Jennifer returned. "Is Evans gone?" I whispered.
Jennifer nodded. "He knows you're here, but my parents trust me too much to search the house like he suggested. Finally my father said he'd call the police if Mr. Evans didn't leave."
Suddenly Jennifer turned toward the stairs. "I think Mom's coming," she whispered. "Stay here and keep quiet."
As Jennifer ran into the recreation room, Parker and I crept back behind the dryer. Luckily Otis was sound asleep on a pile of dirty clothes, exhausted, no doubt, by the great hide-and-seek chase.
"Jennifer?" Mrs. Irwin's voice sounded too close for comfort. "Are you sure you haven't seen Parker and Matthew?"
"I'm positive," Jennifer said.
Her mother sighed. "I've always liked George Evans, but he made me very uncomfortable tonight. All that talk about Parker and Matthew getting into drugs. I just don't believe things like that happen in Woodcroft."
"Parker doesn't do drugs and neither does Matthew. Mr. Evans must be crazy or something," Jennifer said.
"He did act awfully strange," Mrs. Irwin said. "Why was he so sure the boys were here?"
"We went trick or treating earlier," Jennifer said. "Maybe Mr. Evans saw us walking home together and thought they came inside with me."
"I guess that explains it," Mrs. Irwin said, but she didn't sound totally convinced. Halfway up the stairs, she paused. "Be sure and go to bed as soon as the movie's over, Jennifer. We have a big day tomorrow."
Mrs. Irwin took a few more steps and stopped again. "Don't forget you promised to take Tiffany to the costume parade at eleven."
As soon as her mother was gone, Jennifer poked her head around the corner and beckoned us to join her in front of the television. Turning up the volume to drown out our voices, she looked at Parker and me expectantly.
"What's going on?" she asked.
Without answering her, Parker pulled a chair under one of the little basement windows and climbed up on it. Twitching back a corner of the curtain, he peered through the glass.
"Are they out there?" I whispered.
Parker shook his head. "I don't see the van." Then his back stiffened. "Evans is still there. He's standing in the shadows on the other side of the street." Jumping down from the chair, he slumped on the couch between Jennifer and me.
"Where do you think Flynn is?" I couldn't believe he'd go away. After all, he knew perfectly well where we were.
"He's taken Pam somewhere," Parker whispered.
"What are you talking about?" Jennifer asked. "Why is Evans after you?"
Parker and I looked at each other. "We have to tell her," I said. "She's in this with us now."
"What?" Jennifer leaned toward me, her eyes wide. "What am I in?"
"Lots of trouble," I said. "More trouble than you've ever been in in your whole entire life." I paused for a moment and tried to figure out a way to explain the situation we'd dragged poor Jennifer into.
While I was thinking, Parker took over. "It all started when we found the body," he said. "I saw Evans on the bridge that morning. We thought he killed the guy and dumped him in the creek, so we started watching the shop, trying to get proof. Tonight we found out what's going on."
He picked up the doll and showed it to Jennifer. "Th
ese things have hollow heads," he said. "Pam and Evans fill them with cocaine and then this other guy, Flynn, takes the dolls and sells them somewhere."
"A drug ring in Woodcroft? You must be kidding." Jennifer took the doll from Parker and stared at its sleeping face. "I don't believe you."
Impatiently, Parker grabbed the doll. Gripping its hair, he pulled the wig off and showed her the hole in the top of its head. Inside the cavity were two small bags of white powder.
We stared at each other, stunned by the sight of the cocaine. I could just see Flynn behind the counter of an antique store somewhere, selling the dolls to his customers. They wouldn't be little old ladies looking for dry sinks and settees and oak dressers. They wouldn't be mean guys on motorcycles looking for something to do in the woods, either. They'd be the kind of people you read about in news magazines-men in expensive suits, ladies in classy clothes.
"But why did Evans kill the guy you found in Indian Creek?" Jennifer whispered after a while. She was sitting close to Parker, her knees drawn tightly against her chest, her body tense.
"I don't think Evans killed him," Parker said. "He was just doing Flynn a favor. You know, dumping the body."
I cleared my throat, hoping to get a little of Jennifer's attention. "The dead man cheated Flynn," I said. "And now he thinks Pam and Evans are cheating him, too."
Parker swallowed hard and threw the doll across the room. It hit the wall and slid down in a heap of legs and arms. "I should've listened to you, Armentrout," he said. "None of this would've happened if I hadn't taken that damn thing."
"Don't worry about it now," I said. "Just figure out a way to get it to the police."
Without answering, Parker climbed back up on the chair and looked outside. "The van's back," he said. "It's parked half a block down the street."
"Let's call 911," Jennifer said. She jumped up as if she were about to run to the phone. "I bet the police would be here in five minutes."
"What's Flynn going to do if he sees a cop car pull up in front of your house?" Parker said. "Who knows where he's got Pam? He could kidnap her or kill her or anything."
"That's right," I said. "As long as Flynn doesn't think we've gone to the police, maybe he won't hurt Pam."
The three of us looked at each other. For once in his life, even Parker seemed stumped.
"I've got an idea," Jennifer said after a while. "I'm going to the costume parade with Tiffany tomorrow. Suppose I put the doll in her toy carriage? You know how crowded it gets during the Fall Festival. She could push her carriage right down Main Street to the police station. There'll be so many people, they couldn't possibly take the doll away from her. Even if they knew where it was."
Parker nodded hopefully, but I knew Tiffany a lot better than he did. She was just about as trustworthy as a baby copperhead. There was absolutely no telling what she'd do with the doll if she got her grubby little hands on it.
"I'll write a note explaining everything, and fasten it to the doll," Parker said. "When the cops find the cocaine they'll believe me."
Jennifer and Parker smiled at each other as if they'd solved everything, but I said, "What about us? How are we going to get out of here?"
"Oh, no," Jennifer said, "I didn't think about you two."
"Not to mention Otis," I said, as a snore from the laundry room reminded me of his presence.
"I've got it!" Jennifer cried. "Costumes! I'll fix you up so nobody will recognize you!"
While Parker and I watched, Jennifer ran to a closet and started pulling things out. She flung a slinky black dress at Parker and a pair of high heels. "You can be Vampira," she said. "I've got green makeup and a wig upstairs."
Then Jennifer tilted her head to one side and stared at me through narrowed eyes. Turning back to the closet, she rummaged around and tossed a bundle of gaudy clothes at me. "Here's my dad's old clown costume. With a few pillows stuffed in it, and makeup on your face, nobody will recognize you."
Parker held his dress up. "Are you sure this will fit?" he asked.
Jennifer nodded. "I'll pad the top," she said, "and make you look beautiful."
Parker laughed kind of nervously, but I could tell he was going along with the idea.
While Jennifer adjusted Parker's dress, I looked at the costume she'd given me. It was big and baggy and covered with garish polka dots. There was a curly multicolored wig to go with it. Unlike Parker, I was certainly not going to be eligible for any beauty prizes.
"But, Jennifer," I said. "What's your mother going to say when she sees us in the morning?"
Jennifer frowned and wrapped a long strand of hair around her little finger. She twisted it, thinking hard. Finally she grinned. "We'll get up early, and I'll pretend Parker's Linda Greene and you're Melissa Woltzman, and you came over to go to the festival with us."
"Melissa Woltzman?" I stared at Jennifer. "I hate Melissa. Why do I have to be her?"
"Well, Armentrout, you and Melissa have one thing in common," Parker said. "She's kind of plump." He poked my side and started laughing.
I glared at him. Here we were in a life-and-death situation and he was making fun of me. But before I could think of a good comeback, I heard Mrs. Irwin calling Jennifer.
"Isn't that movie over yet?" she yelled down the stairs in the sort of voice my mother uses when she's had just about enough of me.
"I'll be right up, Mom," Jennifer shouted. Turning to Parker and me, she said, "You can sleep on the couch. It pulls out into a bed. I'll come down early in the morning and help you with your costumes."
With Jennifer gone, the house seemed very quiet. Parker and I got the couch ready and found a blanket in the closet. Before he climbed into bed, Parker looked out the window again.
"The van's still there," he whispered.
"Do you see Flynn and Evans?" I asked.
"No. They must be inside." He crossed the room and lay down beside me. "Where do you think Pam is?"
"Maybe they let her go home," I said, realizing as I spoke they'd never do that.
"Flynn's got her somewhere," Parker said. "To keep her from going to the police."
"He won't hurt her," I whispered.
"I hope not." Parker's voice shook a little.
"He wouldn't dare." I tried to sound convincing, but I knew what Flynn had done to Dawson, and so did Parker. Now Flynn was suspicious of Pam and Evans. A lot of money was involved-thousands, maybe even millions of dollars. Flynn hadn't struck me as the sort of person who'd worry too much about killing anyone who got in his way, women and children included.
Upstairs a clock chimed twice. "We better go to sleep," I muttered. "Remember what Jennifer's mother said–tomorrow's a big day."
Parker sat up suddenly and stared down at me. "No matter what happens, you're my best friend, Matthew. I want you to know that."
Although his hair hid his eyes, Parker's face was dead white in the moonlight, and I realized he was as scared as I was. My heart started going thunkety-thunkety like it does when Pm watching a horror movie. What had we gotten ourselves into?
"Nothing's going to happen," I said, "but if it does or it doesn't, you're my best friend, too."
Parker flopped back down. He didn't say anything else and neither did I. After a while, Otis climbed up and made himself comfortable between us. For once, I didn't mind if he breathed in my face. He was our protection, I thought, at least for now.
14
AT NINE THIRTY the next morning, Parker and I were sitting at the Irwins' kitchen table, trying to act like Linda and Melissa. So far, Mr. and Mrs. Irwin had been too busy getting ready for the festival to pay much attention to us. Obviously they were used to Jennifer's friends showing up at odd hours, and they weren't surprised to see us when they came downstairs.
Despite the green makeup and purple lipstick, Parker really did look beautiful. In his dress and long black wig, nobody would have suspected he was a boy. His only problem was his voice. To explain its huskiness, Jennifer kept asking him about his cold.
<
br /> While everyone fussed over Parker, I slumped on a chair beside him. In a clown costume stuffed with two pillows, I felt fat and ridiculous. Jennifer had covered my face with white goop, stuck a round red ball on my nose, and topped me off with the rainbow-colored wig.
While she was transforming me, Jennifer and Parker had laughed themselves silly, but frankly I didn't see anything humorous about it. For one thing, the red ball hurt my nose and, for another, I wasn't allowed to eat because I might ruin my makeup. Then, of course, there was the van parked about a block down the street. With Flynn and Evans out there waiting for us, I couldn't even smile, let alone laugh out loud.
"I've never seen you girls so quiet," Mrs. Irwin said to Parker and me.
"Neither have I," Mr. Irwin agreed. "Usually it's giggle, giggle, giggle."
To my discomfort, I realized he was staring hard at me. "Your outfit reminds me of a costume I used to have," he said. Then, turning to Mrs. Irwin, he asked, "Whatever happened to my old clown suit? Maybe I could wear it today."
Without giving her mother a chance to answer, Jennifer dragged Parker out of his chair. "We're about ready to go," she said quickly.
Jennifer was disguised as a gangster. She'd borrowed an old pinstriped suit from her father and hidden her hair under one of his old hats. She was wearing fake glasses with a nose and mustache attached and carrying a water pistol made to look like a submachine gun. Like Parker and me, I was sure nobody would recognize Jennifer Irwin.
"Don't forget me." Tiffany, the little darling, my favorite kid next to Charity, strolled into the room pushing her doll carriage. I think she was supposed to be a mother, but in all honesty she looked more like a six-year-old Dolly Parton. She'd caked her face with blusher and bright red lipstick, poured mascara onto her eyelashes, and draped herself with so much costume jewelry she could hardly move. She was also wobbling about on her mother's high heels and wearing a satin dress with more padding than Parker had dared stuff into his Vampira gown. In a cloud of perfume, she stood there staring at us.
"What's Parker doing here?" she asked, looking right at him.