Free Beware the Pirate Ghost by Joan Lowery Nixon Page B

Jean always have to butt in when he and Bri were on a case?
    Brian pulled out his investigator’s notebook and pen. He beckoned to some kids who were playing baseball in the street. “We’d like to ask some questions,” he said.
    “Sure. About what?” one of the boys asked.
    “About Lester Hopper, starting with last night,” Brian told them.
    “Oh. You mean about the fight,” Debbie Jean said.
    “What fight?” Sean asked.
    Debbie Jean preened. “I heard the whole thing,” she said. “Lester’s bedroom window was wide open. It’s on the back of their house, opposite mine. He had to take some medicine, and he didn’t want to, so he had a real screaming fit. His parents yelled that he had to take the medicine, and he yelled that it tasted terrible and he wouldn’t.”
    Brian, who’d been writing as fast as he could to keep up, finally looked at Debbie Jean. “Did he take it?”
    “They must have gotten some of it inside him,” Debbie Jean said, “because I heard him choking and sputtering and yelling that he wasn’t ever going to take any more of that horrible stuff.”
    One of the baseball players stepped forward. “She’s right about that,” he said. “I live over there—next door to the Hoppers—and I hear a lot of that yelling, too.”
    “Lester is a real spoiled kid,” another boy said.
    “He’s rude to everybody.”
    “He’s a first-class dork.”
    “A real brat.”
    “Why are you asking all this stuff about Lester? Tell me,” Debbie Jean insisted.
    “Sorry, no comment,” Sean said with a grin. He loved bugging Debbie Jean. “Our cases are confidential.”
    “What do you mean, your cases? And what’s confidential?”
    “We really can’t talk about it, Debbie Jean,” Brian said. “But we appreciate your help.” He thanked the ballplayers, too, and they went back to their game.
    Brian made notes on what the kids told him, as he walked across the Hoppers’ yard and down their driveway. Sean followed. Debbie Jean was right behind them.
    “Does Lester have a bicycle?” Brian asked Debbie Jean.
    “Sure,” she answered. “Lester likes to make tire ruts across people’s lawns after a rain. And he likes to ride as fast as he can down the sidewalk at people passing by, so they have to jump off into the street.”
    “What does his bike look like?”
    “It’s a mountain bike—green, with a chrome headlight and a matching water bottle.”
    Sean peered into the backyard and into the open garage. “I don’t see a bike like that around here.”
    “Excuse us, Debbie Jean. Sean and I need to have a conference,” Brian said.
    Although she scowled at them, Brian led Sean into the Hoppers’ backyard and around a tall clump of hibiscus. “We’ve got two facts,” he said. “A missing bike and the information that Lester didn’t want to take his medicine.”
    “We’d better tell Dad,” Sean said. “Kidnappers don’t take bicycles.”
    “Kidnappers?” Something fell through the bushes, landing at their feet. Debbie Jean scrambled to her feet, her eyes shining with excitement. “Is that what your case is about? Lester was kidnapped?”
    “You’re not supposed to know,” Sean told her. “Nobody is supposed to know. The Hoppers don’t even want to tell the police.”
    “That’s okay. I won’t tell,” Debbie Jean said. “I’m going to help you solve the case.”
    “No, you’re not,” Sean said.
    “I told you about the fight over taking the medicine, didn’t I?”
    “Yes, but—”
    “And I told you about the bike. Right?”
    “Right, but—”
    “So I’m going to help you. If you won’t let me come with you, I’ll follow you. You’re not going to leave me out.”
    “Yes, we are,” Sean said. “We’re going inside the Hoppers’ house to talk to our dad, and you’re going to stay right here.”
    “We’ll call you if we need you,” Brian said.
    Brian and Sean walked around to the front door and rang the Hoppers’ doorbell.
    “Hey, look, Bri.