Bad Times, Big Crimes, Page 3

  My jaw dropped. In front of me was the most amazing-looking car I’d seen in ages.

  It was an old-fashioned, baby blue convertible coupe with a tan leather interior. The steering wheel was huge. And get this, it had a rumble seat—one of those cool folding seats in back, where the trunk should have been. I’d never seen one outside of pictures, and it was so much cooler in person. I hopped in and tooted the horn. “Need a ride?” I asked my friends, smiling for the first time all day.

  “That’d be great,” said George. “I want to be home for the Yankees game. I’ll bet Babe Ruth is going to break another record.”

  Bess rolled her eyes as she climbed into the backseat. “It’s bad enough we have to share a room, but with George prattling on about baseball all the time, it’s a wonder I have time to get my beauty sleep.”

  “Jeepers, Bess. Everyone in the family is crazy about baseball. You’re the oddball there.”

  Did my best friend just say jeepers? Things really were strange back in 1930.

  After dropping Bess and George back at their house, I started feeling pangs of guilt. How could I be so excited about a car when so many people were suffering? I had a lot to think about, so rather than head back home, I took a quick drive.

  My thoughts were all over the place. Would I be stuck in 1930 forever? What if I never made it back home? I missed my modern-day life, and my friends from the twenty-first century. I couldn’t even call Ned. There were no cell phones. Come to think of it, I didn’t even know if there were regular phones. Why hadn’t I paid more attention in history class when I’d had the chance? And speaking of not paying attention, I was so wrapped up in my thoughts I didn’t realize that my surroundings were becoming unfamiliar.

  I don’t know when, exactly, I realized it was night. It was as if one minute the sun was out, and the next, it was dark. Really dark. There weren’t any streetlights, so all I had to guide myself was the dim glow of the car headlights.

  I wanted to head on home. Turns out this was easier said than done. Yup, that’s right. I was lost. I couldn’t find one street sign, or see any of the usual landmarks. In fact, I wasn’t even sure if I was still in River Heights.

  I made a U-turn, hoping that if I headed back toward where I’d come from, I’d start to figure it all out. But that’s kind of hard to do in the dark, when your mind has been wandering.

  Suddenly the car made a noise I’d never heard before—a heaving squeal. It slowed down and started sputtering. I pumped the gas pedal, but the car wouldn’t pick up speed. Since it didn’t seem safe to crawl along in the dark in the middle of the street, I pulled over to the side of the road. Good thing I did, too, because a few seconds later the engine died.

  With a sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach I checked the gas gauge. Empty.

  I rested my forehead on the steering wheel. If this is a dream, I told myself, this is the perfect time to wake up. I pinched myself again, and willed myself to wake.

  No such luck.

  Instinctively I reached into my jacket pocket, but of course, my trusty cell phone was gone. I opened the car door and climbed out. I wondered which direction would lead me to the nearest gas station. But before I figured that out, I heard a noise coming from behind me. Blinding headlights flooded my rearview mirror. My heart leaped into my throat. Someone was approaching.

  I thought about Edward and Clay. They sure resented that I’d interfered. Were they going to do something about it? I could run, but I had no idea where I was.

  I held my breath as the car pulled up behind me and stopped. The car door slammed shut. Footsteps crunched on some loose pebbles on the road.

  Then a familiar voice called, “Nancy, is that you?”

  Turning around, I saw an old friend, who also happened to be my favorite and extremely dependable tow-truck operator. I laughed because I was so relieved. “Charlie Adams! It’s so good to see you.” I ran up and gave him a hug.

  “Uh, Nancy?” he asked. “Are you okay?”

  “Sorry,” I said, pulling away. Charlie shoved his hands in his pockets and stared at the ground. His face was turning bright red. I was probably acting kinda forward for a 1930s gal. Come to think of it, I was probably being forward for a modern gal too—especially because this was Charlie I was dealing with. He’s so funny—always willing to help, but bashful whenever my praise becomes too effusive.

  “Let me guess,” he said. “Car trouble?”

  “I’m out of gas.”

  He went back to his car and got a spare canister.

  “It’s amazing how you’re always there to help me out when I need you,” I marveled. I hoped I was speaking the truth—I mean, about 1930s Charlie.

  “It’s no big deal,” said Charlie. “I was on my way back to the farm when I recognized your car on the side of the road. I was planning on stopping by your house tonight, because I wanted to see you anyway.”

  “Why is that?” I wondered.

  Charlie placed the canister’s nozzle into the gas tank and looked up at me. “Well, I wanted to say good-bye. We’re leaving town.”

  “What? You’re kidding. How come?”

  “These times are rough,” Charlie explained. “The garage isn’t as busy as it used to be, and my family just can’t make ends meet.”

  “There’s a lot of that going around,” I said sadly.

  Charlie nodded. “We’ve heard there are more opportunities out west. Oklahoma. Arizona. Colorado, even. We’re not sure where we’ll end up. All we know for certain is that there’s not much for us here in River Heights.”

  “I’ll sure miss you, Charlie.”

  “I’ll miss you, too, Nancy. More than you’ll ever know.” He finished filling up my car and placed the cap back on the fuel tank. “Where are you headed?”

  “Well, I’m trying to go home, but I got a little mixed up,” I admitted.

  “Still not used to the new road, huh?”

  “I guess not,” I said, wondering what he was talking about.

  “Hard to believe that we have a real paved road going out of town,” Charlie said.

  “Just one?” I asked.

  Charlie laughed. Guess he thought I was joking. “If you make your first right and your second left, you’ll recognize where you are,” he said.

  “Thank you, Charlie. Thanks so much for everything. And good luck to you!”

  Stepping back into my car, I took off. And like a true, old-fashioned gentleman, Charlie waited until I’d left before pulling away himself.

  I made it back to the house quickly. As soon as I walked through the door, I was in for yet another surprise. I was fully prepared for the missing television; just as I’d suspected, there was a large, wood-paneled radio in its place. It wasn’t the furniture; we had a lot of antiques in the house, so the look of the place was pretty much the same. And it wasn’t my dad. Sitting at his desk in his study on the ground floor, he looked the same as always. Even his dark suit had hardly changed.

  “Hi, Nancy,” he called.

  “Hello, Dad,” I replied.

  What surprised me was the man puffing on a pipe in an easy chair across from my dad. “Hello, Chief McGinnis.”

  “Nancy,” he replied with a slight nod.

  “A little late getting home, don’t you think?” my dad asked.

  “Um…” It hadn’t occurred to me that perhaps I had a strict curfew in 1930. “Maybe?” I replied.

  “Let me guess,” my dad said. “You forgot all about our agreement.”

  Forgot? Try never knowing about it in the first place! “It totally slipped my mind,” I said sheepishly. “Sorry, Dad.”

  “Nancy’s still not used to sharing a car,” my dad explained to Chief McGinnis. “We only sold her car six weeks ago.”

  “Of course,” I said, slapping my forehead. “That makes perfect sense.” It would be strange if the entire town was suffering, and dad and I were still sitting pretty. My dad must have fewer paying clients now. We probably sold the car because we
needed money. Everyone else I’d run into so far sure needed money.

  My dad looked at me strangely. “Are you feeling okay?”

  “Just fine,” I said. “I’m sorry. I was at Hooverville and I lost track of time.”

  “Dangerous place, Hooverville,” said Chief McGinnis. “If I had a daughter, I wouldn’t let her run around there.”

  “Nancy wasn’t running around,” my dad explained. “She was delivering food to the needy, and I’m right proud of her for doing so.”

  “What brings you here, Chief McGinnis?” I asked.

  “Well, your father and I had a meeting at headquarters, but he couldn’t get there, on account of the fact that you were using his car,” Chief McGinnis replied.

  I held back a giggle. Chief McGinnis was never my biggest fan—not in the twenty-first century, and apparently, not back in 1930, either. Some things never change.

  “So what’s this meeting about?” I wondered.

  Chief McGinnis looked at my father and sighed. Then my father shot me a look that I’d recognize in the past, present, or future.

  “Something that’s none of my business?” I guessed.

  “Exactly,” said Chief McGinnis.

  I left the room, closing the door behind me. That doesn’t mean I wasn’t listening, though. Leaning against the door, I could hear everything that was being said in the study, loud and clear.

  “I’m worried about what’s happening to our town,” my father said. “I just can’t believe there was another bank robbery—the second this month. All this crime in River Heights—it’s not good.”

  “I agree,” Chief McGinnis replied. “But it’s all under control. The boys and I are working hard. We’ll catch those crooks. In fact, we already have an idea of who’s behind it.”

  “And who is that?” my father asked

  “It’s obvious,” said Chief McGinnis. “I just locked up the Bradley boys for stealing potatoes from old man Sanderley’s farm.”

  “And you think that these boys were responsible for the bank robberies?” My dad didn’t say so directly, but he sure sounded as skeptical as I was.

  “Their parents have been out of work for a year,” said Chief McGinnis. “The whole family has been over in Hooverville ever since. They certainly need the money.”

  This was outrageous. Before I thought about it, I blurted out, “That’s the craziest thing I’ve ever heard!”

  Clapping my hand over my mouth, my eyes widened. I forgot that I wasn’t supposed to be a part of the conversation. I wasn’t even in the room.

  Suddenly the door flew open and my father peered down at me, eyebrows raised.

  “Sorry,” I whispered. “I couldn’t help myself.”

  Of course, now that I knew what was going on, I wasn’t going to pretend that I didn’t. I marched inside, with my hands firmly planted on my hips. “You can’t equate stealing potatoes with robbing a bank. The Bradley boys were hungry. They’re not criminals.”

  “And hunger leads to crime,” said Chief McGinnis. “Who really needs the money? The poor and the unemployed. This depression is turning our neighbors into crooks!”

  “I don’t believe it,” I said. There’s got to be a better explanation.”

  “Your daughter is very forward,” Chief McGinnis told my dad. And he wasn’t being exactly complimentary.

  “I agree that Nancy shouldn’t have been listening. But at the same time, she has a point.” My father paced back and forth across the room. He took off his glasses, wiped the lenses, and slipped them back on before continuing. “True, there are many poor and hungry people here in River Heights. But I don’t think that any of our citizens would stoop to breaking the law. Not to mention the fact that all evidence points toward a professional job.”

  “What evidence is that?” I wondered.

  Rather than answer me, the chief just glared.

  “I hear there’s a lot of gambling going on now,” I said, thinking back to Clay and Edward. “In fact, people are losing their homes in card games. What if someone came to town in order to take advantage of these hard times? Some sort of gangsters, perhaps?”

  Chief McGinnis waved his hand and said, “Don’t you worry your pretty little head about any of this.”

  That really got to me. I was all set to give him a piece of my mind when the doorbell rang.

  “Who could that be?” asked my dad.

  Chief McGinnis stood up and placed his hat back on his head. “I should be getting back to the station. Carson, it’s always a pleasure talking with you.” He turned to me and frowned. “And Nancy. Well, goodbye, Nancy.”

  The three of us walked to the door. When my dad opened it he took a step back in surprise. “Hello,” he said. “Can I help you?”

  I gasped.

  The entire Smith family was on our doorstep—and I’d forgotten to ask my dad if they could stay.

  4

  Animal Invasion

  Chief McGinnis tipped his hat and then walked to his car.

  “Um, Dad,” I said. “These are my friends, the Smiths.”

  Bob shook my father’s hand. “Pleased to meet you, Mr. Drew. Please call me Bob.”

  “Well then, call me Carson,” said my dad.

  “This is my wife, Sylvia,” Bob continued. “And these are our children. Kids, introduce yourselves.”

  The children sounded off dutifully, saying their names in order of their ages.

  “I’m Jerome,” mumbled the oldest.

  “Betty.”

  “My name is Sammy.”

  The youngest pouted and shook her head stubbornly.

  “Say hello, Eliza,” Sylvia urged her.

  “Hello, Eliza,” the young girl repeated.

  As everyone laughed, Sylvia said, “Well, the youngest is a smart aleck.” She smiled warmly. “But regardless of that, we’re so grateful for your generous hospitality.”

  I tugged on my dad’s sleeve, silently hoping that he’d play along.

  After glancing at me and raising his eyebrows, he turned to the Smiths and smiled. “Please don’t mention it,” he said. “It’s our pleasure.” He opened the door wider and the Smith family shuffled in.

  “Hannah,” called my father. “Looks like we’ve got company.…” Since he was heading to the kitchen to find Hannah, he didn’t notice that the Smiths had come inside with their luggage and two of the mangiest dogs I’d ever seen.

  I looked more closely. Make that two mangy dogs plus one mangy cat.

  I quickly hid their luggage behind the sofa and hoped my dad wouldn’t ask about the animals.

  Hannah breezed into the room. “We’re going to be, four, five, six…” She did a quick head count. “Eight for dinner! Oh my, I’ll need another hour to get everything together.”

  Phew, I thought. Obviously my dad figured I invited the Smiths for dinner. And he seemed to have no problem with it. So far, so good.

  Bob said, “I can’t quite believe how kind you’re being. To offer to have us—”

  “It’s nothing!’ I said, interrupting before he could spill the beans about the extent of our generosity.

  Luckily my dad played along, asking, “Can I get you something to drink?”

  “I’ll have a glass of water,” said Bob.

  “Me too, thank you,” said Sylvia.

  “Kids?” asked my dad.

  They all nodded.

  Dad clapped his hands together. “All right, then. Six waters, coming right up.”

  As my dad headed back to the kitchen, I rushed the Smith’s luggage upstairs. And since I was curious, I also peeked into my closet. Just as I’d suspected, it was filled with old-fashioned dresses. Ugh. At least I had the opportunity to trade my high pumps to lower pumps before going back downstairs.

  As I got closer, I overheard Hannah asking the Smith kids to tie the dogs up outside.

  “They’re inside dogs,” Eliza argued. “They don’t like the cold.”

  “All dogs do fine in the cold. That’s why
they have fur,” Hannah explained in a no-nonsense tone.

  I went back into the living room to find my dad serving drinks to Bob and Sylvia.

  “Yours and your daughter’s generosity is really amazing,” Bob said. “We’re so lucky that you’re willing to help us during this—”

  “Excuse me,” I said, cutting him off. “Dad, will you come with me for a moment.”

  Before he could answer me, I pulled him into his study and closed the door behind us.

  “What’s going on, Nancy?”

  “I need to tell you something about the Smiths.”

  “They seem awfully grateful that we’re having them over. It’s very strange,” said my dad. “You’d think they’ve never been dinner guests before.”

  “Well, the thing is…” I took a deep breath. I couldn’t think of a gentle way to say it, so I just blurted out the truth. “The Smiths just lost their house,” I said. “And I invited them to stay with us until, until…”

  My father crossed his arms and looked at me with raised eyebrows.

  “Until I figure out how to fix everything,” I finished. “There’s something fishy going on, I just know it. And I promise I’ll get to the bottom of things.”

  My dad didn’t say anything to me for a long time.

  “Is it okay?” I asked.

  “Yes, it’s okay, Nancy,” said my dad. “But I really wish you’d checked with me first.”

  “I wanted to. There just wasn’t time,” I argued. “I’m sorry, Dad, but these men were ready to send them to Hooverville. It was awful.”

  “I understand,” my dad assured me. “And I’m happy to help. Still, I don’t want Hannah to be too burdened with extra work.”

  “I’ll take some of it on,” I said. “She’ll hardly know they’re—”

  Suddenly we heard a bloodcurdling scream coming from the far end of the house. The two of us raced toward the sound.

  We found Hannah in the kitchen, red faced and out of breath. Her eyes were wide, and she was standing on a chair. “There’s a rat in the house!” she screamed.

  “It’s not a rat,” said Betty, holding up a furry animal proudly. “It’s my pet mouse. His name is Ezra.”