Spy in the Alley by Melanie Jackson Read Free Book Online Page A

so abruptly that she knocked me off the sofa arm. I tumbled onto the floor, jiggling Pantelli’s arm and ruining his game once and for all.
    â€œThere isn’t any more need for you to be here,” Madge told Buzz. Her voice was trembling with anger. I extricated myself from the PlayStation wires and remote controls and regarded her in amazement. Anger in Madge was about as frequent as sightings of the dodo bird. Usually, when she was displeased, she just got frosty.
    â€œNo, I gotta stick around for a few more days,” Buzz contradicted her, distorting his boxy features into something I assumed was meant to be a smile. “Rod Wellman’s orders. Ya know, to keep an eye out for trouble. For the peeping toms that a pretty gal like you just naturally attracts.”
    â€œ Really ,” Madge said furiously. Gripping the handles of the window, she brought it down with a crash that shook the pane. Buzz barely withdrew his navy-jacketed forearms in time.
    â€œWow,” Pantelli said admiringly. He and I laughed at the sight of Buzz backing away, puzzled and offended. Buzz must’ve heard our deliberately loud laughs because he gritted his teeth.
    Then I didn’t feel like laughing. So Buckteeth was a GASP volunteer! Jack was just getting to know the local GASPers — maybe he could track this particular bucktoothed one down for us.
    Too bad Buckteeth had to be a member of the same organization as Jack. That’d make Jack look even worse in Madge’s eyes.
    For now, Madge’s lupine-blue eyes were fiery about Buzz. “Imagine him talking to you like that,” Madge fumed. “ Imagine !”
    I could only look at her in renewed amazement. So Madge minded if somebody was rotten to me; that sure violated all older sister-younger sister rules from the beginning of time. Imagine!

Chapter Seven
    The dim-witted thief again
    Screams pierced my sleep.
    I’d been dreaming about Buckteeth sticking his buckteeth through bluebells and foxgloves at me. I sat bolt upright, rudely awakened, ready to let off a few screams of my own.
    Red lights flickered on the bedroom ceiling. Police car lights. I blinked my eyes. Those piercing noises hadn’t been screams.
    â€œALARM!” I yelled.
    Somebody’s security alarm was sure going with a vengeance. Checking the glowing green numbers on my cat’s-face clock, 2:13 a.m., I scrambled out of bed, stuffed myself into jeans and a sweatshirt, grabbed my pen and notebook and shot down the two flights of stairs from my attic bedroom to the main floor.
    â€œDo you have to take your Junior Block Watch activities so seriously?” came an exasperated, bedclothes-muffled mutter from Madge’s bedroom.
    From Mother’s bedroom, the usual command: “Do not, repeat, do NOT, step off the deck.”
    Depending on where the alarm was, I used either the back deck or front porch as my command post for observing police cars and fleeing burglars. Well, okay, I’d never actually seen any fleeing burglars, but you never knew. The alarm was blaring from behind our house. Turning off our own alarm system, I stepped onto the deck to see just where.
    The Rinaldis’! “Jack!” I exclaimed. “It’s JACK!” I called up to Madge’s and Mom’s windows. All of our bedrooms faced this direction, north, to views of Burrard Inlet, the mountains and occasional crimes-in-progress.
    Other neighbors were venturing out onto decks and balconies to squint blearily at the commotion. A police car was parked behind the tomato patch. In the flashing light, I could make out Jack talking to a couple of police officers.
    Pantelli’s dad, who was Block Watch captain over our block as well as his, hurried by in the alley. Pantelli was with him. If Pantelli was getting to go along, no way I was going to miss out. “Mom,” I called up. “I’m joining Mr. Audia to investigate. I promise I’ll stick close to