Free Trouble In Spades by Heather Webber Page B

to Ana. "She's the sweet old lady who lives across the street. Lived." He shook his head sadly. Today he wore a Hawaiian print shirt and khaki cargo pants. I wondered if Maria had given him the khaki lecture.
    Ana had recently developed a morbid curiosity where death was concerned. "What happened to her?"
    Rain splashed off the porch roof as Mr. Cabrera's eyes widened. "The granny panty thief killed her." Please, Lord, let her leave it at that. But Ana perked right up. "Details!"
    He explained about the rash of burglaries in the neighborhood, and how Mrs. Warnicke had woken up to find the thief in her bedroom.
    "That's horrible," Maria murmured. "Just horrible."
    Mr. Cabrera's bony chest puffed out. "I'm setting up a neighborhood watch."
    "We better go," I said before he roped the two of them into helping.
    As we made our way to the car, Mr. Cabrera said, "Tell Ursula I miss her! You will see her today, right?" Just stick a knife in me and be done with it already.
    "You know," Maria said as she slid into the driver's seat, "we're really not in that much of a rush."
    Oh no.
    "Seat belt," I told Ana. "Trust me."
    "The Kalypso isn't going anywhere," Ana added from the backseat. "He really loves her."
    "No."
    Ana persisted. "He really does."
    Maria backed out of my driveway, bumping over the curb. She put the car into drive and stepped on the gas. "No, I mean, no, I don't want to go to Mrs. Krauss's."
    Maria slammed on the brakes. Ana and I flew forward, our seat belts keeping us from taking a header out the windshield.
    Maria glared at me. "That poor old man!"
    Colonel Mustard came out his front door, stared at us like we might jump out and raid his wife's underwear drawer. "Oh, all right!" I said. "We'll go."

    Beyond the screen door, Brickhouse Krauss's cucumber-colored front door was open wide, allowing in rain-cooled air. I knocked softly at first, then more loudly.
    No one answered. I turned to the car and shrugged.
    Maria and Ana frowned at me and pointed toward the house in a "keep trying" motion.
    Mrs. Krauss's car was in the driveway, the front door was open, and I apparently wasn't going anywhere until I spoke with her.
    Great.
    "Mrs. Krauss?" I called through the screen. Silence.
    I stepped down off the front landing. Well, I'd tried.
    Ana's window powered down. "You're not giving up already!"
    "She's not answering."
    Maria's window slid down. "She's got to be home! Maybe she's out back. Go check."
    My jaw dropped open. "You go check!"
    "You're already wet." Her window slid back up. So did Ana's.
    Grrr.
    Sighing, I pulled the hood of my spring coat over my head and trudged around to the back of the house. I should really be at work, I told myself. Here I was, trying to be a good sister by helping Maria track down Nate, and somehow—somehow!—I'd ended up at Ursula Krauss's landominium. How did these things happen? Nate. God. Had it been him on the phone? What was going on? I hadn't been able to stop thinking about that phone call or what was in that package. And how scared he'd sounded.
    Ursula was sitting on the stone bench in the small garden I'd designed for her not too long ago. An umbrella protected her crisp white bob as she stared into the small goldfish pond. Looking up, she frowned, wrinkles pulling the corners of her blue eyes downward. She clucked at me. "He shouldn't have asked you to come."
    I swear she had powers like my mother. Always knowing. The two of them should open a fortune-telling shop. I could see them now in twin turbans.
    I didn't bother denying it. "He misses you."
    She offered me a seat on the drenched bench. I pulled the hem of my coat down over my rear end and, reluctantly, sat. Brickhouse Krauss. Once upon a time she'd been my tenth grade English teacher. She'd made my life miserable, her animosity toward me quite clear. The feeling had been mutual. Still was.
    Once I'd finished her job, I'd (for some reason I'm still not clear about) volunteered to set Brickhouse up with Mr.