resounding smack.
The policeman stopped and gazed in disbelief at the closed window.
I swooped past him to the glowing screen. It would be disastrous if the chief knew we’d been into those files. I didn’t have time to figure out how to turn it off. I reached the back of the machine, saw a dizzying array of cords. Perhaps if I pulled out one . . . or several . . .
The machine made a noise like a fish swallowing.
But it would certainly be apparent that someone had meddled.
Quickly, I reinserted plugs.
The policeman swung toward the computer. I applauded his brav-ery as he pelted around the desk, then jerked to a stop. He stared. At nothing, of course.
He looked at the small empty space between the back of the computer and the wall.
I wasn’t there. I stood staring at the computer. I felt true distress when I saw the black emptiness of the screen. I hoped the damage was not irreversible.
The policeman backed away from the empty space, then whirled and pounded toward the door.
I touched the black screen, but there was no flicker of color.
Perhaps I’d done enough for tonight.
C H A P T E R 1 3
Itried to be quiet as a mouse.” Bayroo sat on the petit point ot-toman with her knees tucked under her chin. “I hope I didn’t wake you up. I brought breakfast.” She pointed at an enameled tray. “Blueberry muffins and oatmeal. Mom thought I fixed it for me and she didn’t see me add a mug of coffee and an extra bowl and plate. She’s really frazzled. The Spook Bash is today, and she’s already over at the church.” Bayroo grinned. “I’ve been thinking wake-up thoughts, like ‘Auntie Grand, it’s almost eight o’clock and I’m so excited I feel like I could fly if I tried.’ ” She jumped up, closed her eyes, scrunched her face. “Maybe if I hold my breath and flap my arms.” She lifted from the floor, thumped down. “I jumped,” she confessed, “but I still feel like flying.” Eight o’clock. Chief Cobb had ordered a search of the church grounds and the cemetery this morning. I swung upright in a panic, rushed to the window. No police cars were parked in the back drive or—I craned to see—the visible portion of the church parking lot.
Bayroo was at my side, her face concerned. “Is something wrong?”
“Everything’s fine. But I have to go out soon.” I smiled and gave Ca ro ly n H a rt
her a good-morning hug, then held her at arm’s length. “My, you look nice.”
Her cheeks turned bright pink. “Do I look too special?” She fingered the top button on her crisp blue-striped blouse. Navy corduroy slacks were tucked into soft white boots.
I liked Bayroo’s white boots, just as I’d liked the ones I’d seen yesterday. They added a bright note to a cloudy fall day. “You look perfect. Casual but nice.”
She brushed back a swath of fiery-red hair. “I hope Travis doesn’t think I’m a carrottop like that awful Jason Womble. He sits behind me in math, and whenever he has to pass a paper or anything he says,
‘Here you are, Carrottop. Better watch out for monster rabbits.’ ” I laughed.
Bayroo didn’t join in. Her eyes flashed. “Jason’s mean.” I reached over, gently touched a flaming curl. “Next time tell him he’s color-blind. You aren’t a carrottop, you’re a Titian redhead, and there are paintings to prove it.”
“Titian?” She looked at me doubtfully.
“Titian,” I said firmly. “The famous Italian painter. He loved to paint models with red-gold hair just like yours. Check out an art book from the library, show Jason what’s what.”
“Titian. Oh, I’ll do it. Thank you, Auntie Grand.” She was at the table, lifting the covers from the cereal bowls. “I brought real cream.
Mom says her family always had real cream with oatmeal. And lots of brown sugar.”
We sat down and I continued the family tradition by spooning two tablespoons of brown sugar and pouring a generous splash of cream. “Thanks for bringing up breakfast.” It was an auspicious beginning to the day. Everything was certain to come right. I felt it in my bones. Or would have, had I had bones. In any event, being with Bayroo was a good start.
G h o s t at Wo r k
I poked a chunk of butter into the warm center of the blueberry muffin.
Bayroo clapped her hands. “I love watching a muffin float in the air.”
I was starved. “Not for long.” I finished the muffin. “You look excited.”
Her thin face was eager but uncertain. “I have the cake ready to take to Travis’s house. He said I could come this morning and I want to go there more than anything. But what if he thinks I’m one of those irritating fans who won’t leave celebrities alone? I mean, I don’t really know him and he’s here to visit his aunt and maybe I should just put the cake on the porch with a note. Would that be better? Then he’ll know I really think he’s swell, but I’m not trying to horn in. I mean, he has to know Lucinda and I were hanging out around his aunt’s house. Lucinda was at the other end of the block and I was in the pine grove.” She looked at me earnestly. “Don’t tell Mom. We aren’t supposed to go in the preserve by ourselves—girls, I mean, especially after dark. But it wasn’t quite dark and I had to have somewhere where I could watch for him and Lucinda didn’t see him because he came from my direction.” She finished in a rush. “I don’t want him to think I’m a hanger-on.”
Bayroo had no inkling how beautiful she was, her red-gold hair shining in the sunlight, her freckled face kind and
