Somebody’s outside the window,” said Henry. He jumped toward the window and pulled the curtain back.
Jessie ran to join him and said, “Look!”
They saw a shadowy figure scuttling across the lawn.
Then Benny said, “I can see the lights in the neighbor’s house.”
“You’re right, Benny. Only our lights seem to be off,” said Grandfather. “Someone must have made them go off.”
“Stay here,” Courtney told Tate. “I’m going to check this out.”
“We’ll come with you,” Henry said.
But it was too late to catch whoever had turned the lights off. By the time they got outside, the shadowy figure was nowhere to be seen.
Suddenly the lights in the house came back on. “Grandfather must have fixed the lights,” said Henry.
“Look,” said Violet. “Footprints.” She pointed to the soft earth beneath the dining room window.
“Boot prints,” said Courtney, kneeling to examine them. “Not much bigger than my own. They could belong to a man or a woman.”
Suddenly Henry looked around with a frown. “Where’s Jessie?” he asked.
At that moment, they heard Jessie call, “Stop! What are you doing?” and then saw a flash of light.
They ran around the corner of the house toward Jessie’s voice.
“Jessie? Are you okay?” called Henry.
A woman’s angry voice said, “It’s only you!”
The Aldens and Courtney stopped. Jessie stood in front of them near the sidewalk. A brown car was parked at the curb. A woman with long red hair stood near the open door of the car, lit by the interior light. Jessie was holding her arm. The woman had a small camera in her other hand.
“Monica Tripe!” said Violet.
Courtney suddenly stepped back into the shadows. Benny looked around in surprise. It was almost as if she had become invisible.
“What’s going on?” Henry demanded. “What are you doing here?”
Monica pulled her arm free of Jessie’s grasp. “Just taking a few photographs of Greenfield,” she said unconvincingly.
“At night? Here?” asked Violet in disbelief.
Jessie said, “You’re the one who turned out our lights, aren’t you?”
Monica stepped back with an angry toss of her head. “I did not. I don’t have to make up my stories.”
“What stories? What are you talking about?” asked Henry.
“Why did you take my photograph?” Jessie asked.
“I thought you were someone else,” Monica muttered. “I saw the house go dark and then I heard someone running in this direction. I thought it was . . . the friend I’ve been looking for.”
“Well, I’m not,” said Jessie.
“Maybe not,” said Monica. She edged toward her car. “But he’s around here. I know it. And I’m going to find him, no matter what you or anyone does to stop me!”
With that, she jumped into her car, slammed the door, and drove away into the night.
Courtney said, “It’s a good thing Tate didn’t come outside. I’d better go see how he’s doing.”
She turned and went into the house as quickly and quietly as a cat.
“How did you know that Monica would be out in front of the house?” asked Henry as they walked back to the dining room.
“I didn’t,” said Jessie. “I just thought I heard something and went to check it out.”
“Did she turn off the lights?” asked Benny.
Jessie shook her head. “I don’t think so,” she told him.
“Why not?” asked Henry.
“I know!” said Violet. “Did you see Monica’s shoes? She wasn’t wearing boots like the footprints we found. She was wearing high heels.”
The Aldens went back inside the house. Jessie said, “We should tell Tate we saw Monica Tripe. But what if she and Courtney are working together?”
“I don’t think they are,” said Henry.
“Why not?” asked Violet. “Courtney has been around for everything that has happened. She was in town that day when the ice-cream parlor had the smoke alarm. She could have hidden the letter in the mailbox. And she’s the one who got the mysterious phone call.”
“But she didn’t turn off our lights,” Jessie said. “There is no way she could have. She was inside the whole time.”
“And it couldn’t have been Monica. Not wearing those shoes. And she didn’t have time to change,” agreed Henry.
“Courtney didn’t want Monica to see her,” Benny said. “She backed up out of sight when she saw Monica.”
“She knew Monica would recognize her as Tate’s bodyguard,” said Violet. “That’s why.”
“You’re right,” said Jessie slowly. “I don’t think Courtney is behind all this.”
“Then who is?” asked Benny. “Monica?”
“If it’s Monica, she’s not working alone. We have to find out who is helping her,” said Henry.
“It has to be someone who knows Tate is here,” said Violet. “And if it’s not Courtney, that leaves four other people: Tate’s mother; his agent, Eddie Hampton; Stefan; and Harpo.”
“But which one?” asked Violet.
“I have an idea,” said Jessie. They had reached the house. She grinned. “Let’s go inside and have some cake and I’ll explain. Tate needs to hear this, too.”
The letter carrier opened the mailbox and slipped the mail inside. Then he drove away.
Benny said, “We’ve been here all morning. And we haven’t caught anybody yet.”
“Be patient,” Jessie whispered.
Benny yawned and leaned back against the tree. “Oh, okay,” he said.
A few minutes later, he leaned forward again. “I hear a car,” he whispered.
Watch gave a little whimper of excitement.
A brown car came into view on Old Farm Road. It drove past where the Boxcar Children were hiding in the woods and down the road.
“It looked like Monica’s car,” said Violet. “But it didn’t stop. Why not?”
Her question was answered as the car drove back into view from the other direction. It slowed down and the Aldens could see the driver clearly, despite the bright green scarf that covered her hair and the huge dark glasses on her nose.
“Monica,” said Henry.
Still moving slowly, the car passed them, rounded the curve, and then stopped. “She must be putting the car in the same hiding place as before. She’ll be back,” Jessie predicted.
Sure enough, they soon heard rapid footsteps on the road. Monica appeared, holding a white envelope in one hand. She had a camera around her neck. Looking nervously around, she approached the mailbox in front of the big gates of the Radley mansion. Quickly she opened the mailbox and shoved the envelope inside.
Then she hurried across the road to slip into the bushes and hide. She crouched behind a tree only a few yards from the Aldens.
Tate came to the gate, opened it, and walked out. He took out the envelope. Monica raised her camera, waiting for a chance to get a perfect shot of Tate’s outraged reaction.
But Tate didn’t open the letter.
Instead he walked straight across the road to where Monica was hiding. Monica lowered her camera.
Tate stopped on the other side of the tree.
Monica’s mouth dropped open in shock as Tate said, “Did you leave me this letter, Monica?”
“No! That is, I—I—” Monica began to stammer.
At that moment, the Aldens came out from their hiding places and surrounded Monica. “Yes,” said Jessie. “Monica left that note. We saw her.”
Monica’s head jerked around. “You!” she gasped. “What are you doing here?”
Henry gave Monica a sweet smile. “Waiting for you,” he said.
Tearing open the envelope, Tate took out a single sheet of paper. Black letters the same as on the previous note were printed on one side of the paper. “If you hide too long. You’ll soon be gone,” Tate read aloud. He gave Monica a cool look. “Is that a threat?”
“No!” Monica’s cheeks turned bright red as she answered.
“It sounds like one to me,” Violet said.
“Me, too,” said Benny.
“Well, it’s not!” Monica said. “Tate, you’re a star. But if you keep hiding, your fans will forget about you. That’s all.”
“I have a right to a quiet, private vacation just like anybody else,” said Tate. “And I would be glad to give out interviews and talk to reporters if they refused to report stories that weren’t true or exaggerate things that happened in order to make a good story.”
Monica lowered her eyes, and her cheeks grew even redder. “I—I don’t do that,” she said.
“Yes, you do,” said Jessie.
“And now you’re sending anonymous letters and setting fires and making anonymous phone calls and putting out the lights in our house,” said Henry in disgust. “Just to make a good story.”
“No!” Monica answered, startled. “I didn’t do all that! I just left the letters to try to make Tate come out of hiding. That’s all, I promise!”
“How did you know Tate was here?” asked Benny. “It was a secret.”
“And why did you keep turning up wherever he was? How did you know to look in the ice-cream shop for him that day?” added Henry.
“Tips,” Monica said. “I got secret information from someone.”
“Who?” asked Tate.
Monica shook her head. She said, “I don’t know. Most of the time they were phoned in to me. A husky voice would tell me where and when to find you. I couldn’t even tell if it was a man or a woman.”
The Aldens exchanged glances. This sounded like the anonymous caller who had spoken to Courtney.
Monica continued, “But the first tip—about where you were, Tate—came on this postcard.” She took a postcard out of her camera bag and held it out.
The Aldens and Tate saw a picture of the Greenfield town square on the front. On the back, in square print, were the words, Look here for Tate.
“Whoever it was had to have bought the postcard here in Greenfield,” said Jessie. “When did you get it in the mail?”
“Nine days ago,” said Monica.
“So it had to have been mailed the week before,” said Violet. She turned to Tate. “When did you get to Greenfield?”
“I’ve been here for seven days,” said Tate. “But my mother and Eddie came ahead.”
“Did Stefan and Harpo come with them, too?” asked Benny.
“They came with Courtney and me,” said Tate.
Henry said, “Well, we know your mother didn’t cause this mischief.”
Tate nodded.
“It has to be Eddie Hampton, then, doesn’t it?” cried Monica. “Wow. This will be a great story!”
“Wait just a minute,” said Henry. “It won’t be a story until we prove it was Eddie.”
“How are you going to do that?” asked Monica.
Tate glanced around at the Aldens. “Oh, I think we’ll all be able to prove it—and then you can have your story, Monica. Well, Aldens, what do we do now? I feel sure you have an idea for how to catch Eddie.”
“We sure do!” said Henry |