Don't Tell Anyone by Peg Kehret Read Free Book Online Page B

on purpose, she thought, then I am the only witness to a murder! Now the murderer is threatening to kill all the cats if I tell the police about him, or about this note.
    Megan swallowed hard. She remembered that Officer Rupp had told her not to talk about what she had seen.
    She wondered if the police had feared some sort of threat. Maybe that was why her picture wasn’t in the paper. Maybe the police had told the newspaper not to use Megan’s name because she was the only one who had seen the tan car, and they didn’t want the driver to know who she was.
    The driver had found her anyway, even without knowing her name.
    Megan debated what to do. Should she call Officer Rupp and tell him about the note?
    How would the person who left the note know whether Megan told anyone about it or not? Was someone watching her?
    Megan looked quickly around. Two cars headed up the freeway on-ramp; neither was tan. There was no car parked near the field, and no one was walking nearby.
    â€œMew.” The soft sound broke in to Megan’s thoughts. “Mew, mew.” It came from the drainpipe.
    Megan knelt in the grass and looked inside the drainpipe. She couldn’t tell for sure how many kittens there were, but several tiny bodies squirmed and mewed next to Mommacat. They were so small, they looked more like mice than kittens.
    Megan longed to pick up one of the kittens, but she knew better than to reach inside the drainpipe. Mommacat would surely try to protect her babies. The scratch on Megan’s hand had finally begun to heal, and she didn’t want another one.
    Megan brought the pan of food and the bowl of water closer, leaving them just outside the drainpipe.
    The kittens helped Megan decide what to do about the note. Taking it to the police would not help the woman who had died. Even if Megan could identify the driver of the tan car, which she could not, it wouldn’t bring back Dinkle’s owner.
    But it was not too late to help the cats. These new littlekittens could be caught and tamed. They could be adopted by people who would love them and care for them. They wouldn’t have to grow up hungry and fearful and wild, as Mommacat and the others had.
    Megan decided not to tell anyone about the note until all the cats had been safely moved to new homes. Then she would show the note to Mom and call the police.
    She peered in the drainpipe at the newborn kittens one more time before she walked to her bike. She needed to get going or it would be too late to call Feline Friends. Their office was only open until four-thirty.
    As Megan got on her bike, the same blue pickup truck came down the street and stopped beside her.
    The driver rolled down his window and called, “Good news! I found out who owns the land. I’ll call the owner and ask him to pay for relocating the cats.”
    â€œThat’s great!” Megan said.
    â€œWe should have his answer by Tuesday. In the mean-time, the county has put the building permit on hold. Your cats are safe for at least a month.”
    â€œI’m going to call a group called Feline Friends,” Megan said. “They help homeless cats. They might know a place where the cats can live.”
    The man’s smile disappeared. “Don’t call them until I’ve contacted the property owner,” he said. “Feline Friends would need his permission to remove the cats, since they are on private property. This situation could get a lot of publicity, and the property owner is more likely to cooperate if he knows what’s going on before the media gets wind of it.”
    â€œAll right,” Megan said. “I won’t call them yet. But how will I know if the owner is going to help or not?” She thought of giving this man her phone number but decided it wasn’t smart to do that when she didn’t really know him.
    â€œI drive past here several times daily. I’ll watch for you. If I don’t see you, call me on