Free Miss Julia Delivers the Goods by Ann B. Ross Page B

had. Ignoring the nagging worry of what our next step would be, I turned to Sam, “Sam, her bedroom looks like a florist’s shop. You should peek in and see. Everybody we know has sent flowers or cookies or books or something. Lillian has the best sheets on her bed with half-a-dozen pillows propped up on it. A few days of bed rest won’t be a hardship at all. And,” I went on, meeting Sam’s eyes over my coffee cup, “bed rest means just that. No visitors, no phone calls and nobody asking personal questions.”
    “I can visit, can’t I?” Lloyd asked. “I won’t ask any questions, except maybe, ‘How’re you feeling?’ ”
    “You’re not a visitor,” Sam said, with a pat on the boy’s arm. “You’re family, and family doesn’t come under the no-visiting rule.”
    Lillian pushed in from the kitchen, bearing a basket of hot biscuits. Just as I reached out to take it from her, a jolt of fear brought us all to a sudden standstill—my hand hanging in the air, Lillian holding out the basket, Lloyd’s water glass halfway to his mouth and Sam’s fork clattering to his plate.
    An eerie wail like “Whoo-oo, whoo-oo,” then “Whoo-oo” again, reverberated from a distance, but closing in fast. “What’s that?” Lloyd cried as he sprang out of his chair.
    We stared at each other, our eyes getting bigger as the ululation neared the house. Then a flash of dark clothing zipped past the dining room windows, and we heard the slap of outsized running shoes on the paved driveway. Then someone began banging on the back door, hitting it so hard that the screen rattled on its hinges.
    Sam was on his feet, heading for the door, with Lloyd right behind him, as Lillian, her eyes big with fear, dropped the basket, scattering biscuits everywhere. I clasped the edge of the table with both hands, not knowing whether to get under it or go see what the trouble was.
    “Lord he’p us!” Lillian cried, as a loud voice bellowed “Mr. Sam! Mr. Sam!” out in the kitchen. “That nobody but that worthless James! What he doin’ scarin’ everybody out of they wits?”
    We pushed through the swinging door into the kitchen to see James leaning over, his hands on his knees, trying to catch his breath, while Sam tried to get a straight answer out of him.
    “Mr. Sam,” James puffed, “you got to come quick. I never seen the like. Ever’thing all messed up and broke into and strewed all over the place. You got to come quick.”
    “James,” Sam said, leading him to a chair. “James, calm down and tell me what happened.”
    James sank heavily into a kitchen chair, mopped his face, and looked up at Sam. “Somebody done broke in yo’ house, Mr. Sam, an’ I don’t know but what they still in there.”

Chapter 10
     
     
     
    “Call nine-one-one, Julia,” Sam said. “Come on, James, let’s get over there.”
    “Sam, no!” I cried. “Not if somebody’s still there.”
    “If they were, they’ll be gone by now. Tell the officers to meet us there. Get up, James, and let’s go.”
    James wasn’t all that eager to leave the safety of our house, but he dragged himself up and followed Sam out the door. And, just as I punched in the emergency number with shaking hands, Lloyd dashed out after them.
    “Lillian,” I said, motioning to her to stop him, but my call was immediately answered and I had to report the breaking and entering at Sam’s house.
    I hung up the phone and turned to scold Lillian for letting Lloyd go, just in time to see her crawl into Sam’s car with the rest of them. It backed out of the drive and was gone.
    “Well,” I said to nobody, “I guess I’m left behind to clean up the kitchen.” Which was just as well, since bringing in dishes from the dining room and stacking them in the sink gave me time to calm my nerves. Hearing sirens converging a few blocks away, I could only hope that Sergeant Coleman Bates was one of the responders. As a personal friend, he would make sure that a thorough