Free The Dead Man in Indian Creek by Mary Downing Hahn Page B

minute."
    We ran on through the woods toward Blake Street, thinking we'd take the shortcut behind Jennifer's house, but just as we reached the edge of the woods, we heard Otis barking somewhere behind us.
    "Quick!" Parker jumped Swenson's hedge, and I stumbled after him. We raced through their yard and the next three, dodging lawn furniture, bicycles, and woodpiles. Then we were scrambling over Jennifer's fence with Otis close behind, still barking happily as if he thought we were playing a wonderful game of hide-and-seek.
    When we hit the ground, Jennifer's dog, a little poodle named King Tut, raced down the back porch steps, yapping and growling. Swerving away from his sharp teeth, I headed for the driveway but stopped when I saw a van, lights out, gliding silently down the street toward us.
    Parker grabbed me and dragged me up Jennifer's back steps. He banged on the door till Jennifer lifted a corner of the shade and peeked out the window. In the meantime, King Tut had sunk his teeth in my leg, and Otis was prancing around Parker and me, his toenails clicking on the porch, his whole body wagging.
    "Parker," Jennifer mouthed through the glass. "What are you doing here?"
    "Let us in," Parker whispered. "It's an emergency."
    Jennifer opened the door a crack. "I'm home alone baby-sitting," she said, "And Mom said I couldn't have anyone in the house."
    Without another word, Parker pushed right past Jennifer, and we crowded through the door. Otis came too, and so did King Tut, still hanging on to my leg like a leech.
    "Lock it!" Parker cried and helped Jennifer slide the deadbolt into place. Then he turned out the light and the three of us dropped to the floor, too scared to move.
    "What's going on?" Jennifer whispered. She was staring at the doll.
    "We're in big trouble," Parker said.
    I had finally pried King Tut off my leg, mainly because he'd gotten interested in something else. He was staring at the kitchen door, growling deep in his throat, his body rigid. At the same moment, Otis forgot about the trashcan he'd been investigating and growled too.
    The porch light was on, and I could see the shadow of a man looming up against the window in the door. Luckily the blind was down, so he couldn't see us crouching on the floor.
    "Don't open the door, no matter what he says," Parker whispered.
    Jennifer shook her head. I knew she wouldn't open that door for anything on earth.
    "If Parker Pettengill is in there, please tell him his mother wants him." It was Evans, trying to sound just as nice and polite as he did when the old ladies with blue hair pulled up to his shop.
    Jennifer whimpered a little, but she didn't say a word. King Tut and Otis, united by a shared danger, were still barking and growling, and I was making myself as small as possible.
    "Parker," Evans said, "come on out. You and Matthew were supposed to be home by ten."
    Evans's charming voice made it sound as if this were a simple case of a curfew violation, but no one was fooled. Otis hurled himself at the door so hard it shuddered, and King Tut leaped about hysterically. If only he'd been born a mastiff instead of a little poodle, I thought. With his disposition, he would have torn Evans into pieces and eaten him live.
    The doorknob turned then, but the lock protected us. I looked at the window and imagined the glass breaking and Evans's hand coming in to open the door from the inside. And maybe that would have happened, if a car hadn't entered the driveway. As its headlights swept the kitchen, Jennifer whispered, "It's my parents."
    At the same moment, we heard Evans run down the steps.
    "What should we do?" I asked.
    "Hide in the basement," Jennifer said, pushing us toward the stairs. "And keep that dog quiet."
    Dragging Otis with us, we ran down the steps, through the recreation room, and into the laundry room. As the three of us crowded into a corner behind the dryer, we heard the back door open and the sound of parental voices asking if Tiffany had gone to bed