Free Marcia's Madness by Lauren Baratz-Logsted

and that they're being properly cared for."
    "Ask anything you like," Mrs. Pete said. "We have nothing to hide."
    "Let's see here..." Bill Collector pulled out the list. "The first thing to do is make sure that the children are healthy and well fed." He indicated Petal with his pencil. "Any health problems other than this one fainting?"
    "Not a one," Pete said.
    "How about food? Mind if I check your kitchen?" Before anyone could answer, he left the room. We heard him searching till he found the kitchen, then we heard the sound of the refrigerator door opening.
    Thankfully, we'd had a word with Carl the talking refrigerator yesterday and told him not to say anything if any strangers opened his door. We'd also asked robot Betty to stay out of sight, and for once she was doing as asked.
    "That's some well-stocked fridge," Bill Collector said, making a note on his list as he returned to the drawing room. "Looks like someone around here has done a big shop recently."
    Out of the corners of our eyes, we glanced over at Marcia, grateful.
    "Now then, you've got all that food," Mr. Collector said, "but who does the cooking?"
    "I do," Mrs. Pete said. "Just last night I made spaghetti and meatballs. I shaped the meatballs like squares and rectangles and triangles."
    "Interesting." Mr. Collector nodded his head appreciatively as he made another note on the pad. "I'd like to see the recipe that does that."
    "Durinda?" Mrs. Pete said. "Could you get that recipe for Mr. Collector?"
    In that moment, we loved Mrs. Pete a tremendous bunch. She was willing to lie if it meant saving us.
    Durinda left the room and soon returned with the recipe.
    "Are the girls going to school every day?" Bill Collector asked Pete.
    "Oh, yes."
    "Ever any problems in school requiring a parent?"
    "I've been able to handle everything that's come up so far."
    "Can you tell me a little bit about each girl?"
    "Well, Annie tends to take charge; Durinda is very motherly; Georgia's been known to complain; Jackie's just an all-around great girl; Marcia has power issues when she's not busy observing things; Petal ... well, you already know about Petal. Rebecca can be rude, and Zinnia's always hoping for a present."
    He did know us!
    "Great stuff, great stuff," Mr. Collector said. He'd been busily taking notes all the while. "Now that that's settled, there's one other thing I'd like to ask you about."
    "Yes?" Pete leaned forward.
    "My car sometimes makes this pinging noise and—"
    "That's it?" the Wicket shouted. "You're done asking questions and now you're going to have the man look at your car?"
    "Well, what else is there?" Mr. Collector looked puzzled.
    "Just because they say the... children are healthy, well fed, regularly attending school, mostly behaving there, and they know one thing about each of the... children, that's enough for you?"
    Mr. Collector still looked puzzled. "What else is there?" he asked again.
    "Can't you see they're lying?" the Wicket said. "These people," she said, pointing at Pete and then Mrs. Pete, "only just moved in here. I'm sure of it. I wrote you—and called and came in—because I'm worried about the... children. It's not right for them to be here alone. They should all be moved to separate houses."
    "But they have their aunt and uncle looking out for them," Mr. Collector said.
    "And I keep telling you," the Wicket insisted, "these two aren't their aunt and uncle, and they have been living without adult supervision. As a matter of fact, I first wrote you because of what I saw."
    "Which was?" Bill Collector prompted.
    "I saw that one"—and here the Wicket's finger wavered uncertainly from one Eight to the next; she never could tell us apart— " driving a car! "

TEN

    Oh, this was not good, not good at all.
    The jig probably really was up now.
    The Wicket had obviously seen Marcia driving the Hummer two weeks back.
    "What exactly did you see?" Bill Collector asked.
    "I saw that one." The Wicket's wavering finger still hadn't settled on