The Pike River Phantom by Betty Ren Wright Read Free Book Online Page B

him take my silver? Not on your life!”
    â€œI wasn’t going to steal anything,” Charlie protested. “I’m selling candy. Mrs. Schwanke said I should come here.”
    The older policeman looked interested. “What’s Mrs. Schwanke got to do with this?”
    â€œShe lives down the block,” Charlie explained. The headache was beginning to fade, just a little. “I went there first, and she said Mrs. Fisher liked chocolate so I should be sure to—”
    â€œRidiculous!” Mrs. Fisher snapped. “Gertrude Schwanke would never send a burglar to walk into my house and ransack my closet.”
    Charlie explained about the man he saw leaving with a television set. “He told me to beat it. He said Mrs. Fisher was sleeping and didn’t want to be bothered. I figured he was making up a story because he was stealing the television.”
    â€œStealin’!” Mrs. Fisher repeated. “Of course he wasn’t stealin’! That was my nephew Jacob, and he’s as honest as the day is long. He came over on his lunch hour to pick up the television and take it to a repair shop. I told him I’d be takin’ a nap and he should just come in and get the set. I didn’t sleep a wink last night—you may remember I called the police station twice to report Gregorsons’ barking dog. Stealin’, indeed! What a thing to say about Jacob!”
    The older policeman held up his hand. “You say your name is Charlie Hocking, is that right? You’re John’s boy, and you’re living with your grandpa and grandma now.”
    Charlie scowled. “So what?” he muttered. “My dad doesn’t have anything to do with this.”
    â€œNo need to get sassy,” the policeman said mildly. “You say you came in here because—why?”
    â€œBecause I thought maybe that guy had knocked Mrs. Fisher out or tied her up. Or something.” His suspicions sounded silly now. “He was in such a big hurry to get away. And I couldn’t see why he’d be in the house if she really was sleeping.”
    â€œYou should have called us if you thought something was wrong.”
    â€œI was going to,” Charlie explained. “As soon as I was sure. I even got the truck license number—AYK-175. I thought if she was hurt”—he risked a glance at Mrs. Fisher, whose pink topknot trembled with outrage—“I’d better find her right away.”
    The policemen looked at each other. “Is that your nephew’s license, ma’am?”
    â€œHow would I know?” Mrs. Fisher demanded. “You just quit askin’ questions and put this boy in jail. Lou and Will Hocking are good people, but everyone knows that son of theirs went bad. And now here’s the new generation headed the same way! If I hadn’t locked him up for you, my pearls and silver would be long gone!”
    The younger policeman went back to the closet and returned with Charlie’s canvas bag.
    â€œWhole bunch of chocolate bars in here,” he reported. “All smashed up. He must have sat on ’em.”
    Charlie closed his eyes. Well, if Rachel wanted to make a big scene about the candy, she’d have to visit him in jail to do it.
    The older policeman took Charlie’s arm and urged him to his feet. “How do you feel now, kid? Still woozy?”
    â€œI’m okay.” He wondered if they were going to make him wear handcuffs.
    â€œThen if you’ll check to make sure nothing’s missing, ma’am,” the policeman suggested to Mrs. Fisher.
    â€œHow could there be anything missin’?” she snapped. “I heard this burglar the minute he came into the house. Called out, he did, just to see if anyone was home. I had him locked in the closet before he could get into mischief. Now you put him in jail—otherwise he’ll go right on breakin’ into houses and stealin’ from