Free Who Stole Halloween? by Martha Freeman Page B

really
stealing
cats. Maybe he’s
rescuing
cats. Maybe he’s a good guy, not a bad guy.”
    â€œI don’t know about that,” Bub said. “Stealing is stealing even if your motives are good. Think what would happen if everybody took it into their heads to ‘rescue’ other folks’ possessions.”
    My mom would have to work even more overtime, I thought, and I was about to say so, but the phone rang and Bub got up from the table to answer it.
    It is funny how sometimes one thing leads to another. Later, we found out it was Jo, Bub’s niece, on the phone. Jo is a student at the university. The dryer in her dorm was broken. She called to ask if she could use Bub’s.
    If the dorm dryer hadn’t broken, Jo wouldn’thave called. If Jo hadn’t called, Bub never would have left us alone when he did.
    And if Bub hadn’t left us alone, Yasmeen would have told
him
her idea, and he would have said it was too risky, and we would have forgotten about it.
    So in a way, everything that happened next was because the dryer in Jo’s dorm at the university broke down two days before Halloween.

Chapter Twenty-one

    Yasmeen’s crazy idea was this: Spread the word that Luau was a neglected cat, too, a cat that badly needed rescuing. College Springs is a dinky town. If we told enough people, pretty soon the thief would hear about it—same as he must have heard about Kyle “torturing” Halloween. When that happened, the thief would go after Luau.
    â€œAnd that’s when we get him!” Yasmeen said.
    There was a pause, and during the pause I expected her to say, “Ha-ha.”
    Only she didn’t.
    So finally I had to say,
“What?”
    And Sophie said, “Wow, Yasmeen. I never saw before why people said you were smart, but now I finally see because that is just
so smart
—”
    â€œHey—aren’t your lips supposed to be zipped?” I said.
    â€œDon’t be rude, Alex,” Yasmeen said. “Thank you, Sophie.”
    â€œOh, that’s great, now you’re ganging up on me, not to mention poor, innocent Luau. . . .”
    My cat had been peacefully watching the glamorous leopard on TV, but now his ears perked up and he said, “
mrrrrf
,” which meant,
Did I hear my name mentioned?
    â€œI admit the plan still has some bugs that need working out . . . ,” Yasmeen said.
    â€œNo, it doesn’t,” I said. “No bugs because no plan. Not gonna happen.”
    â€œListen a minute,” said Yasmeen.
    â€œNo.”
    â€œSeriously.”
    â€œNo.”
    â€œWe could fix it so Luau isn’t in any danger,” she said. “We could be
really
careful.”
    I crossed my arms over my chest and shook my head. Luau, meanwhile, jumped off the recliner and walked toward us. I expected him to hide under my chair—seeking protection from the crazy person with the crazy plan—but Luau, that traitor, jumped into Yasmeen’s lap instead.
    â€œSee?” she said. “He’s volunteering.”
    â€œYou get down from there!” I said.
    Sophie interrupted. “I could keep him safe if I had the right equipment. I could ‘wire’ him like the FBI does. You know, hide a radio transmitter on his body so we could hear whatever was happening to him—”
    â€œThat is totally insane,” I protested. “I mean, apart from everything else, don’t you geniuses see the obvious problem? People wear clothes. Cats don’t. Where are you going to hide a transmitter?”
    â€œA collar would be enough,” Sophie said. “If the transmitter is small, it could dangle from it. Are there stores for teensy transmitters? I betI could take something apart. Like a wireless phone? Or a walkie-talkie? It has to use radio waves—”
    As soon as Sophie said it, I remembered Yasmeen already had precisely the right source for such a transmitter.