The Case of the Vanishing Boy Read Free Page B

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    â€œBecause, well, I mean if I was really as dangerous as that policeman seemed to think, I—I sure didn’t have any business going to you and Ginny for help.”
    The old man snorted. “I’ll give you a top grade for ethics, and a big zero for judgment. You should have hightailed it straight to the farm. We’d have picked you up on the way, and no one would have known beans about it. But now we’re in for trouble.”
    â€œBut why, Pops?” said Ginny.
    â€œBecause, pet, we’ve lost some time, and I can’t possibly learn all I need to know from Jan before we have Bricker to worry about.”
    â€œBut I still don’t understand. How can Sergeant Bricker—”
    â€œBecause,” said Heron Rhodes, sending the car swiftly down the street, “this happens to be the only white vintage Rolls in the county. Everybody knows it, especially the police. They know when I arrived at the station to meet you, and when we left after the excitement over Jan. They saw us come back into town with Otis, and they already know we’re headed for home with another person in the back seat, because we passed a cop at the top of the hill, and he waved to me. Bricker knows Jan sat with you on the train, and that he asked the priest where you live. It won’t take him long to put it all together, then he’ll be burning up the road to the farm.”
    The car ran a red light, whirled into a highway that was fortunately empty, and began to fly. Heron Rhodes snatched up the car phone, called a number, and said, “We’ve got him, Hecuba, and he needs hot soup and a change of clothes. Lay out some of those things you picked up for our Tremaine cousin. They ought to fit. And we’ll have to work fast. That devilish Bricker has his nose on the trail, and he may be out to see us.”
    It seemed they had gone much farther than the five miles the priest had mentioned when Jan finally glimpsed a stone wall on the left. And a very long stone wall it was, for he guessed they drove beside it for at least a half mile before Heron Rhodes swung through an open gateway. At the end of a winding lane the car stopped before a large, rambling old stone house nearly hidden in the trees.
    A tall white-haired woman in a green smock, whom Ginny called Aunt Heck, met them at the door. She was nearly as tall as Heron Rhodes, and had the same sharp nose and lively, intent face. She gave Jan’s arm a friendly squeeze, and said, “Heron, I put his things in the little bedroom off the library. Why don’t you help him change, then bring him to the kitchen. We’ll all have something to eat together while we talk.”
    â€œGood thought. I want to give him a quick once-over anyway.”
    â€œCan I watch?” said Otis, speaking for the first time.
    â€œYou may not. But you may help with the questions later.”
    Jan was thrust across the broad entrance hall, through a huge room lined with books, and into a small bedroom dominated by a towering four-poster. An assortment of new clothing was laid out on the bed.
    While he stripped down and toweled dry, Heron Rhodes went over him hurriedly, prodding and tapping and giving an occasional grunt.
    â€œYou’re kind of scratched up, son. That happen this evening?”
    â€œYes, sir. I banged into a tree when I was running through the woods.”
    â€œHm. Doesn’t seem to be anything to worry about. Have you got a sore spot? Do you ache anywhere?”
    â€œNo, sir.”
    â€œHm. Roll your head around. That’s right. Does it hurt? No? Hm. You seem to be in good shape. I can’t even find an old bump on your noggin. Now, get into some of these new jeans and let’s go into the kitchen. I know you’re pretty tired, but you’ll feel better when you eat, and I want you to hold up till we find out all we can about you.”
    Jan swallowed. “Why—why are you going to all this