Free The Girls' Revenge by Phyllis Reynolds Naylor Page A

police?”
    “What attack was that?” asked Josh.
    Now Mr. Hatford was getting red in the face. “Don't play dumb with me! Why did you guys call the police and say someone was being murdered upstairs at the Malloys'?”
    “Because we saw Caroline hit Beth over the head with a hammer, Dad, and Beth collapsed on the floor, that's why!” said Jake, taking the offensive.
    “Wow!” said Peter.
    “Didn't Mom always tell us to report a crime? We were just being good citizens,” added Josh.
    Now Mom was standing in the doorway, her arms folded over her chest. “What, exactly, did you see?”
    The boys described the scene in detail, Wally forgetting his vow of silence and filling in whenever a new detail was needed: how Beth was arguing with Caroline, both of them getting angry, Beth stamping her foot and turning her back on her sister, and Caroline picking up the hammer…
    “We just did like you said, Mom,” Josh finished. “We got involved. We reported a crime.”
    “So you saw it in detail,” said Mother.
    “Absolutely,” said Jake. “As though we were right there in the room.”
    “Uh-huh,” said Mother. “And where exactly were you that you could see this so well?”
    Wally's heart began to sink.
    “They were in the Explorers' Club!” said Peter helpfully. “Looking through the binoculars. You can see really, really good from there.”
    “What?” said Dad.
    “We've got permission from the Bensons to use their loft,” Jake bleated. “They signed a paper and everything. We've got squatters' rights to the loft in the garage. We can meet up there whenever we want. Mr. Malloy said it would be okay.”
    “And the window of this loft faces the girls' bedrooms?” asked Mother.
    “Well, just Beth's,” said Wally uncomfortably.
    “Do you boys mean to tell me that you were sitting up in the Bensons' garage after dark, looking in Beth Malloy's bedroom through a pair of binoculars like some low-down, sneaky Peeping Tom?” Mother cried.
    Wally, Josh, and Jake stood like statues.
    “We were just holding a club meeting!” Wally squeaked finally.
    “A club meeting at nine o'clock in the evening? In twenty-degree weather? You and a pair of binoculars?” said their father. “I'm ashamed of you boys.”
    Somehow that was the very worst thing Dad could say, Wally decided. That was worse than being whopped on the seat of the pants.
    “But—but they know we meet up there!” said Josh. “They know we could have been watching. If theydidn't want us to see something, they could have pulled down their shades.”
    “That is disgusting!” said Mother. “I don't want you boys over in that garage again. Do you understand?”
    “Don't you think the Buckman police have better things to do than respond to false reports?” asked Dad. “What if there had been a real emergency and they were out wasting their time? This'll be all over the sheriff's office next time I go in.”
    “Dad, we thought it was real! Honest!” Wally cried.
    “Well, either you guys are more gullible than I thought or those girls are terrific actresses,” said Dad.
    It was really embarrassing. The boys didn't want to admit to either one.
    “How did the police know it was us?” asked Wally finally in a small voice.
    “The officers called headquarters on their car phone and asked them to trace the call. In case you didn't know, boys, they can trace your call right down to the phone number and the time of day.”
    “Wow!” said Peter.

Thirteen

Hot, Hot Chocolate
    “W hat we have to do,” Eddie told her sisters, “is pretend that absolutely nothing happened. The guys are going to be dying to know if we got in trouble, and if they even mention it to us, we don't know what they're talking about. Right?”
    “Right,” said Caroline.
    “And then, ” said Eddie, her eyes beginning to glow, “we wait until they meet in the garage again, and then we trap them.”
    Caroline had no idea how they were supposed to do that, but she didn't