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The Baby-Sitter Burglaries, Page 2

Carolyn Keene


  Nancy sat down and said, “I need some information on the recent burglaries in River Estates” .

  “Let me guess,” Officer Brody said sarcastically. “You just happen to be friends with Juanita Puentes and David Andrews, and you’re trying to prove them innocent. Right?”

  Nancy smiled. “Actually, I’ve never met David Andrews,” she said. “But why do you think Juanita is involved?”

  “River Estates has had three break-ins and burglaries in the last week and a half,” Officer Brody said. “The Mowrer house was first on March eighteenth, then two days later the Bairds were hit, and the Larsens six days after that. And what do all three crimes have in common? Juanita Puentes and David Andrews. Puentes baby-sits at each house, and Andrews was the one who installed the security systems—that was before he was fired.”

  “Fired?” Nancy sat up straight.

  “Fired,” Officer Brody repeated. “Andrews installed the systems, and he knew the security codes for the houses. So either the owners never turned on the systems, or someone knew the security codes and turned off the alarms. No alarms sounded at any of the houses. And a Mrs. Alice Mendenhall, Juanita’s neighbor, just called. She said she’d overheard Andrews talking about the Secure systems to some of the parents who dropped off their children at Juanita’s play group. He might be setting up future burglaries.”

  So that was why Mrs. Mendenhall was slinking past Juanita’s window. She was eavesdropping! She must have heard Juanita talking about the burglaries. But why had she told the police what she knew about David?

  Officer Brody drummed his fingers on his desk. “I’m willing to bet that Puentes and her boyfriend are working together. She cases out the houses—finds out what they have. Then, when the owners are away—which she’d know—he comes back, disables the systems, and breaks into the houses,” he said.

  Nancy leaned forward. “But you don’t have enough evidence to arrest them.”

  “Not yet,” Officer Brody said. “Listen, I’ll give you the addresses of the burgled houses. But don’t get in my way.” He gave her a steely look and handed her a paper.

  Nancy took the paper. “Thank you,” she said. “Don’t worry. I won’t get in your way.” She stood up and tucked the paper into her purse. Officer Brody obviously hadn’t changed his opinion about teenaged detectives.

  Nancy left the police station with Bess and George, filling them in on her conversation with Officer Brody. George opened the door of Nancy’s Mustang. “So what’s next, Nancy?”

  Nancy slid behind the wheel. “I think we should talk to the owners of the burgled houses—the Mowrers, the Bairds, and the Larsens. Officer Brody gave me their addresses.” She compared his list with the names and addresses Juanita had given her. The Mowrers, Bairds, and Larsens were all customers of Juanita.

  They drove to River Estates, an affluent neighborhood only a few blocks from Juanita’s house. Two-story houses stood on large lawns planted with fruit trees, oaks, and willows. Nancy stopped at the Baird house first and then at the Mowrer house, but neither family was home.

  Nancy pulled the Mustang into the concrete driveway alongside the Larsen house. The three girls climbed out of the car.

  Mrs. Larsen answered the doorbell. “Hello—can I help you?” she asked. Her daughter stood behind her, clinging to Mrs. Larsen’s sleeve.

  “I’m Nancy Drew, and these are my friends Bess Marvin and George Fayne,” Nancy said. “I’m investigating the burglaries in the neighborhood. Do you have a minute to answer some questions?”

  Mrs. Larsen hesitated, studying Nancy’s face. “Nancy Drew? Oh yes—I remember you—you’re that young detective. Your father is my lawyer. Please, come in,” she said. “I was just going to put Melissa in for her nap. I’ll be right back. Please go into the living room and make yourselves comfortable.”

  The living room had two flowered sofas facing each other and Oriental rugs artfully scattered on the floor. “What a beautiful room,” Bess said.

  When Mrs. Larsen returned to them, Nancy asked her about the security system. Mrs. Larsen showed her how all the windows and doors on the ground floor were wired. “If anyone tries to open them, it’ll set off the alarm,” she said.

  Then she led them to a hallway near the garage. “This is the main control panel for the system,” she said. The panel had rows of buttons, and a red light that glowed when the security system was turned on. “Nothing was disturbed on the panel when we arrived home and discovered the burglary,” Mrs. Larsen said.

  “How could that be?” George asked.

  “The burglars broke in through an upstairs window. Come, I’ll show you.”

  Mrs. Larsen led the girls upstairs and pointed out a window on the landing. The wood frame was split. “This is how they got in,” she said. “They must have pried it open with a crowbar or something like that.”

  “But why didn’t the alarm go off?” asked Nancy.

  “The upstairs windows aren’t wired to the security system.” Mrs. Larsen pointed to the ceiling over the stairway. “That’s a motion detector. It should have sent a signal to the alarm as soon as the burglars walked down the stairs. But it didn’t. It’s all very puzzling,” she said.

  “What happens when the alarm is set off?” Nancy asked.

  “The signal goes to Secure Monitoring Company, and they contact the police immediately.”

  Nancy looked around the upstairs hall. “There’s another control panel,” she said. “It looks just like the one downstairs. Does it activate the system, too?” she asked.

  Mrs. Larsen nodded. “I can turn the system on or off by punching in the security code on this panel or on the one downstairs.”

  “Did you have it on that day?” Bess asked.

  Mrs. Larsen gave Bess an indignant look. “That’s what Secure Monitoring asked me when they came over to check the system after the burglary. I never forget to set the alarm. The rest of the system is in the basement,” she said. “Let’s go downstairs.”

  Back on the ground floor, Nancy spoke to George. “Take a look around outside while we’re in the basement. Since the Larsen burglary took place only two days ago, maybe you can find some footprints or other clues.”

  “Cool,” George said, and she left the house.

  Nancy and Bess followed Mrs. Larsen to the basement. She pointed out the wired metal bars on the basement windows. “And look here,” she said. “These wires go up from the windows to the ceiling. They end up at that transmitter high on the wall over there.”

  Nancy hadn’t seen that many security systems to be an expert, but nothing looked damaged—the wires looked intact.

  “Let’s go see if George has found anything,” Nancy said. They went out into the backyard. “No clues here, Nancy,” said George. “Just a few dog tracks in the flower bed.”

  Mrs. Larsen stared at the tracks. “That’s odd,” she said. “We don’t own a dog. And no pets are allowed to run loose in River Estates.”

  “And the yard is fenced,” said Bess.

  “What did the thieves take?” Nancy asked Mrs. Larsen.

  “All they took was the TV set and the VCR. A few things are missing from the backyard, too,” Mrs. Larsen said, “but they’re not important.”

  “Did anyone outside your family know the security code?” Nancy asked.

  Mrs. Larsen hesitated. “Well, normally I wouldn’t give it out to anyone, but I did give the code to my neighbor, Reese Gardner. He offered to feed my cat while I was on vacation,” she said.

  Mrs. Larsen paused, wrinkling her forehead. “Oh, and I gave it to my baby-sitter—Juanita Puentes.”

  3

  Snatched

  Nancy’s heart sank. Since Juanita knew the Larsens’ security code, the police would definitely suspect her. “Why did you give Juanita your security code?” Nancy asked Mrs. Larsen.

  Mrs. Larsen looked uncomfortable, then sighed. “I know it sounds like too many people knew the code. But Melissa accidentally pushed some buttons on the
control panel while Juanita was baby-sitting. The alarm went off, so Juanita called me and I gave her the code over the phone so she could turn it off,” she explained.

  “Do the police know about this?” George asked.

  Mrs. Larsen nodded. “They wanted to know whether Juanita baby-sat for anyone else in the neighborhood. Juanita is so good with children—nearly everyone I know hires her to babysit,” Mrs. Larsen said.

  Nancy took one more quick look around the yard, then turned back to Mrs. Larsen. “Thanks for letting us in,” she said. “I’ve learned a lot.”

  “I’m so glad you came to investigate,” Mrs. Larsen said. “Please do all you can to find out who’s behind these awful burglaries. None of us feels safe. Reese is having a meeting for all the neighbors at his house on Sunday at noon to discuss how we can prevent future burglaries. Why don’t you come to the meeting?”

  “The day after tomorrow?” Nancy looked at George and Bess. They nodded. “Thanks. We’ll be there.”

  They said goodbye and walked to the Mustang. “Want to bet the other two burgled families will be at that meeting?” George asked as Nancy put the key in the ignition and started the car. She backed out of the driveway.

  Bess nodded, then looked sheepish. “How do you feel about triplets?”

  “Why?” George asked, giving her a wary look.

  “Because I promised Juanita we’d help her with the Kiley triplets’ birthday party tomorrow afternoon,” Bess explained.

  “Wait—don’t say anything, Nancy, I know you probably have all sorts of investigation plans, but at the Kileys’ you’ll get to see another house in River Estates with a Secure system. And you’ll get to meet David. You’ll even get to meet Diego the Great himself, because he’ll be putting on a magic show for the party.”

  Nancy laughed as she drove down the street. “Looks like she managed to con us into babysitting again, George. Well, I need to talk to David,” she said. “I’ll drive you guys home now. Dad and Hannah are expecting me early for dinner. We’ll meet for breakfast tomorrow, okay?”

  “At the Waffle House,” said Bess.

  • • •

  The next morning Nancy and Bess met George at the Waffle House. They each ordered blueberry waffles. Right after the waiter left, Nancy heard a familiar voice. She looked around and saw Mrs. Mendenhall. She was sitting with a dark-haired man in a blue suit.

  “You’re my lawyer. Do something!” Mrs. Mendenhall was saying. “What about the city noise ordinance? You should have heard those kids when they were playing in the backyard yesterday. It’s the same thing every Friday.”

  “I’m sorry, Alice,” the lawyer replied. “Juanita doesn’t need a license to operate a once-a-week play group for six kids. If she extends the group to every day and adds more kids, she could still get a license from the city. As long as she provides a safe environment for the kids—a fence and a clean house—there’s nothing we can do.”

  “What about Juanita and her boyfriend robbing houses?” Mrs. Mendenhall said loudly. Nancy winced, and Bess gasped. “What kind of child care provider is that?”

  The lawyer murmured something Nancy couldn’t hear. She looked around the room. All eyes were on Mrs. Mendenhall. It looked as if she might do anything she could to ruin Juanita’s livelihood.

  Bess shook her head. “What a rotten neighbor Juanita has.”

  After breakfast, Nancy drove Bess to the Kiley house, and George followed in her own car. The Kileys’ front walk was paved with bricks and led to a roomy front porch full of white wicker furniture. Juanita met them at the door. “Come on in. These are Robbie, Corey, and Jamie Kiley,” she said.

  Three identical six-year-old boys dressed in jeans and red T-shirts stared up at Nancy, Bess, and George. They had curly blond hair and wide, innocent smiles.

  “Hello, boys,” Bess said as she knelt in front of them. “I’m Bess. Which one are you?” she asked the nearest triplet.

  “I’m Jamie,” he said sweetly.

  “Now, Robbie,” Juanita said, “it’s not nice to try to confuse people. This is Jamie.” She patted the head of one of the other boys.

  “I’m Corey!” he said indignantly.

  Juanita looked confused. “No, you’re not, you’re—”

  “I’m Robbie, he’s Corey!” The other triplet said with a grin.

  Juanita looked helplessly at Nancy. “They’ve never done this before,” she said. She shrugged her shoulders, then laughed. “I guess it doesn’t matter.” The boys laughed and ran around the living room, chasing one another.

  Nancy motioned Juanita aside. “I need to ask you something,” Nancy said. “Did you know any of the security codes at the burgled houses?”

  “Of course not,” Juanita said.

  Nancy saw Bess close her eyes and turn away. Had Juanita forgotten about the Larsen code—or was she lying?

  “Oh—wait,” Juanita said. “I did know the Larsens’ code. Melissa set off the alarm, and I had to punch in the numbers to shut it off.” She shuddered. “You wouldn’t believe how loud those alarms are.”

  Juanita’s eyes widened. “So that’s why the police suspect me! But I didn’t know the Mowrers’ or the Bairds’ codes—honestly! I’ve never had to use the Larsen code again, and I swear I don’t remember it.”

  Bess gave Nancy a relieved look and Nancy smiled. “I believe you,” Nancy said quickly.

  A little hand tugged at Nancy’s sleeve. “I’m Robbie, and I have a bug jar.” He held up a glass jar with a screened lid. “See? Will you help me catch some bugs outside?” he asked.

  “Sure. But first we’d better see if Juanita needs help,” Nancy said.

  Bess waved her hand. “No, go ahead. George and I will watch Corey and Jamie.”

  “Right,” George said. She rolled her eyes.

  In the backyard Robbie turned over stones and looked under bushes. Finally he caught a cricket. He jumped up and down, excited, until Nancy gently took it from him and dropped it in the jar. Robbie ran off to find more bugs. Nancy screwed the lid back on the jar, then looked for Robbie. “Do you see any more?” she called. She looked around the yard. Where was Robbie?

  “Stay calm,” Nancy told herself. She looked behind the shrubs along the back porch, and behind the trees near the back gate. The gate was locked, so she moved along the fence, which was a sturdy chain-link one, about four feet high—too high for a little boy to climb over.

  She stopped short. There was a hole in the fence, easily big enough for a little boy to climb through.

  Nancy climbed over the fence. If Robbie had escaped and gone to the front yard, would he stay out of the street? Nancy ran to the front of the house.

  Just as she reached the driveway, a green pickup truck pulled up to the curb. A man dressed in black jumped out of the truck, startling Nancy.

  Robbie scrambled out from under a forsythia bush, and the man ran up and grabbed him.

  4

  Abracadabra!

  “Wait!” Nancy yelled. She raced up to the man and grabbed the back of Robbie’s shirt. The man looked startled and for a moment stared warily back at Nancy as they both held on to the boy. Robbie looked over his shoulder at Nancy, his eyes wide.

  “Who are you?” Nancy and the man said at the same time, glaring at each other.

  “I’m Nancy Drew, and I’m baby-sitting this child,” Nancy said.

  The man looked relieved, then smiled. “Juanita told me you were helping her out—with baby-sitting and uh . . . the investigation,” he said.

  Nancy raised her eyebrows. “And you are?”

  “Oh—sorry. I’m David Andrews, Juanita’s boyfriend. I’m assisting with the magic show this afternoon,” he explained. He hoisted Robbie onto his shoulders. Robbie giggled and held on to David’s head.

  Nancy studied David’s face. His smile was warm as he looked up at Robbie, but his gaze slid away from Nancy when he saw her staring, and he looked embarrassed. His dark brown hair was curly and short on top but reached pas
t his collar in the back. He was dressed in black jeans and a black sweatshirt.

  David squinted into the sun, then back at Nancy. “So? Do I look like a thief?” he asked lightly.

  Nancy blinked. “Sorry. No, you don’t. But a lot of thieves don’t look guilty, either,” she said.

  “I guess not. And you don’t look much like a detective.”

  Nancy laughed. “Well, I hope I’m a better detective than I am a baby-sitter. I can’t believe I lost Robbie so quickly.”

  David grinned. “Don’t worry about it. Robbie’s our little escape artist. You aren’t the first person he’s conned with that bug search routine. Want me to take him inside?” he asked.

  Nancy waved David ahead of her, but instead of following them up the front steps, she headed to the backyard to examine the fence. She knew that a child could never have made that hole in the fence—it was too big.

  She knelt down and ran her hands over the chain-link fence. The hole hadn’t been caused by a tear. The cut was clean and straight, as if it had been made with wire cutters.

  When Nancy stood up, she heard a rustle in the yard next door. A man was hunched over behind a bush, his back to her.

  He raised a pair of binoculars and pointed them at the street in front of the Kiley house. He seemed to be looking at David’s truck. Then he stood up and jogged around the side of the neighboring house, and was soon out of Nancy’s sight.

  Who was he? Could he have cut the fence?

  Nancy made a note of what she’d seen in her notebook, then went into the Kiley house. The triplets were climbing on David.

  “Make us disappear!” said one.

  “Where’s your magic hat?” asked another.

  Juanita came up to Nancy and handed her some colorful paper plates. “Will you set the table, please?” she asked. “Mr. and Mrs. Kiley are at the bakery, getting the birthday cake.”

  Nancy took the plates. Juanita had paper streamers draped over her arms and was holding napkins and silverware in her hands. She set the table and pinned up the streamers, but she was always aware of what the children were doing.