Free The Ghost Wore Yellow Socks by Josh Lanyon

for pretty much forever.
    As Perry followed Miss Dembecki, it occurred to him that he was behaving more suspiciously than she was. What did he think he was doing, spying on an old lady? What did he think he was going to find out? What dark secrets could she have? Maybe she had planted a secret tomato garden or was visiting the grave of her dead parakeet.
    Still…there was something in the secretive, furtive way she was moving through the trees -- and things were so weird right now. Perry automatically sped up, trying to move quietly through the wet bushes without getting too close to his quarry.
    Pausing behind a stand of sugar maples, he peered into a shadowy darkness that smelled of wet earth and mold. He could hear Miss Dembecki, the sinister senior citizen, several yards ahead, crunching through the dead leaves.
    Not far off, he could hear the rush of the river. The gazebo, he thought suddenly. She was heading for the gazebo. Why? Was she meeting someone? A twig cracked under his foot.
    He crouched down behind a dead tree stump.
    Cautiously he peered around the stump.
    Miss Dembecki had stopped and was looking around apprehensively. Perry ducked back, waiting, covering his mouth with his hand in case the smoke of his breath in the frosty air gave him away.
    Long moments passed. Perry waited while the knees of his Levi’s grew soaked. A few inches from his nose, ants crawled sluggishly in and out of the dead bark.
    There came the squawk of rusty hinges and the bang of a wooden door. Peeking out, he saw that Miss Dembecki had vanished inside the gazebo.
    Great. Now what? It would be difficult to cross the clearing to the gazebo without being seen from one or another of the windows. His gaze fell on a nearby birch tree, yellow branches spreading over the octagonal building.
    Keeping to the cover of wild rose bushes, Perry sneaked over to the tree and climbed up into the branches, shoes slipping on the pale bark, then finding purchase.
    From his perch he had an unobstructed line of vision through the grimy gazebo windows. A dull beam of light played slowly over the gently angled room.
    More than this it was impossible to see in the gloom. What the heck could she be doing in there? Perry strained to hear, but that was also impossible over the distant rush of the river, the leaves whipping in the chilly breeze.
    Minutes crawled by.
    Was she hiding something? It would hardly take this long. And if she was looking for something…well, same argument, really. After all, she had lived on the estate for years. For The Ghost Wore Yellow Socks
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    what could she be searching for twenty minutes that she hadn’t had plenty of time to find in the past decade or so?
    Perry’s hands grew numb with cold. His leg was falling asleep. He was trying to think if he had ever been more miserable in his life when the rain started again, trickling down the back of his neck. He began to worry about the cold and damp aggravating his asthma -- not something Sam Spade ever had to put up with.
    He massaged his leg absently, watching the wan light traveling listlessly around the room once more. Maybe he should risk climbing down and try peering through a window on the ground level. Or maybe he could just walk in and pretend to be surprised to find Miss Dembecki there -- see how she reacted?
    The door below him banged open, and Miss Dembecki exited the building, startling Perry -- almost literally -- out of his tree.
    He steadied himself. Through the lattice of leaves he watched the gnomelike figure of Miss Dembecki hurrying away. He could see that she held something in one hand, but he was pretty sure it was her flashlight.
    Perry let several minutes elapse. No one else left the gazebo, so he had guessed right.
    Not a meeting; Miss Dembecki had been looking for something.
    What?
    Who would use an abandoned building as a hiding place? Why?
    Letting himself down gingerly through the tangle of twigs and branches, Perry dropped to the wet ground. He went