The Ghost Wore Yellow Socks by Josh Lanyon Read Free Book Online Page A

greeted them in his booming voice. “Why, there you are! I wondered where you were, son.”
    Despite the smile he looked tired, grayer than usual around the edges -- and every one of his seventy-something years.
    “Hey there, Mr. Teagle,” Foster said. “When did you get home? How was your trip?”
    He was a friendly tyke, no doubt about it.

    30 Josh Lanyon
    Teagle’s voice rose in the manner of the hard-of-hearing. “This morning. Wish I’d never gone. Waste of time. People say the economy’s improving, but I can’t see it,” He shook his head. “These damn Democrats.” He peered skeptically at Nick. “You a Democrat?”
    “I’m an Independent,” Nick said shortly.
    Teagle appeared unconvinced. “You’re that ex-marine, aren’t you?”
    “That’s right.”
    Maybe Teagle had been army. He shook his head again and turned back to Foster. “Son, they said you had a terrible experience last night. Someone broke into your apartment?”
    “Someone did,” Foster replied lamely, apparently having trouble putting into words the whole unvarnished truth.
    “These young vandals are everywhere,” Mr. Teagle said. “There’s no discipline, no control. It’s this permissive society. Why in my day…”
    He treated them to a dissertation of the good old days while Foster unlocked the door and let them inside his rooms.
    Nick wished Foster would get rid of the garrulous old fool, but he was as useless at repelling social invaders as burglars.
    “Did you want some tea, Mr. Teagle? Nick?”
    “No,” said Nick.
    “I’d love a cup,” Teagle lowered his girth onto one of the chairs, apparently settling in.
    “Hadn’t you better pack?” Nick asked Foster woodenly.
    Mr. Teagle stared at Nick over the top of his horn-rims although he spoke to Perry.
    “Pack? Are you going somewhere, son?”
    Foster gave Nick one of those uncomfortable looks. “Maybe. Till I can sort out what’s happening with my apartment.”
    Teagle turned the horn-rims on the kid. “Does this have to do with that burglar last night?”
    “Sort of. He wasn’t exactly a burglar.”
    “But where will you go, son? You can’t break your lease.” He studied Nick once more, as though suspecting he was behind it all. “This your idea, young man?”
    “Yep,” Nick said cheerfully.
    Foster made himself scarce in the kitchen, returning finally with Teagle’s tea. He said deprecatingly, “I’m just going to throw some things in a bag,” and moved to hightail it down the hallway.
    Mr. Teagle set his mug down on the drop cloth and said heartily, “I know! What do you say to staying with me awhile, Perry? Just till you sort out this little mix-up.”
    Foster halted midflight. “That’s…really kind of you,” he said reluctantly.

    The Ghost Wore Yellow Socks
    31
    “Then it’s settled!”
    “Foster’s staying with me for the time being,” Nick said curtly, amazing himself yet again. Foster shot him one of those meltingly grateful looks that irritated and gratified Nick at the same time.
    “I see,” Mr. Teagle said slowly after a moment, disapproval vibrating in his tone.
    Nick felt himself changing color at what the old man obviously thought. Well, let him think it; it wasn’t true, and anyway…Nick didn’t trust him.
    “Who has keys to these apartments?” he asked Teagle. “Besides MacQueen?”
    “Tiny, of course. You know. The maintenance man.”
    Nick blinked. How the hell had they forgotten about Tiny? Not only did he live on the premises, he was big and strong enough to tote bodies up and down ladders all day long.
    “Anyone else?”
    “Let me think…Hmm. I think Miss Bridger may have a copy. Mrs. MacQueen relies on her to keep an eye on things when she goes away.”
    He glanced at Foster who was carrying his suitcase out of the bedroom. “Son, do you think I might have a word with you in private?”
    “Uh, sure.” Foster glanced uncertainly at Nick.
    Nick said, “I’ll be down the hall.”
    He was shaking his