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Authors: Ann M. Martin

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BOOK: Baby-Sitters Beware
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It was too awful to think about. But I couldn't put the picture out of my mind. I wanted to call Dawn, but I remembered that she was going out to dinner with her dad and stepmother and Jeff that night. They'd probably already left.

Logan? The words of the note crept into my mind: STOP CRYING. Logan hadn't sent the note. I was sure he hadn't.

But if he had, and if I called him, would he think I was a crybaby to get so upset over what had happened to Kristy?

Of course not, I scolded myself. Anybody would be upset.

But I didn't call Logan, either.

At last I gave up and decided to go to bed. I shoved my books to one side, wandered to the window, and looked out.

I peered at the sky, wondering if it was ever

going to snow. But the sky was dear, and I even saw a bit of the moon. We live in an old farmhouse on the edge of town. Our road doesn't have streetlights, so the moon seems to shine more brightly out here, without all the competition.

I leaned my forehead against the window — and froze.

Someone was standing in the shadow of the tree nearest my window.

I blinked, unable to believe my eyes. The figure didn't go away. It stayed there, motionless. The stillness, the watchfulness of it was very, very scary.

I don't know how long I stood there like that. Suddenly, I realized with a cold chill that I was outlined against the window by the light from my bedside lamp behind me. Whoever it was could see me dearly, could see my room, even though I couldn't tell anything about him.

I jerked back with a muffled shriek. I yanked the curtains together and stood there, breathing hard, as if I had been running. After awhile, I realized that I was clutching the curtains so tightly that my fingers were beginning to tingle. I let go of tine curtains. I turned off the lamp and stood for awhile in the dark,

letting my eyes adjust to it. Then I went back to the window and pulled the curtain to one side a little, just enough to peer cautiously out. I flinched as I did, half expecting a rock to come through the glass.

Nothing happened. All I saw was an empty lawn, the trees, the distant line of fence and a meadow, dark and still and quiet.

Had I imagined it after all? Had what had happened at Kristy's made me see things in shadows?

No. No, I was sure I'd seen a dark figure, lurking under the tree.

Hadn't I?

I decided not to tell Sharon and my dad, at least not right away. Instead I scooped up Tigger, who was asleep on the bed, and draped him over my shoulder. I walked around the house as casually as I could, making sure all the doors and windows were locked. I told Sharon good night and returned to my room to go to bed.

But it was a long, long time before I fell asleep.

"It was really creepy," I said. "I just happened to look out the window, and there he was!"

"He?" asked Stacey.

"Or she," I said impatiently. "Whoever." I shuddered at the memory.

Stacey asked, "Maybe you should tell your dad and Sharon."

"I know. I probably should." I sighed. Secretly, I was afraid if I told my father that I thought I'd seen someone lurking around our house, he'd start making up a list of strict, new rules "for my own good."

Stacey said, "I can't believe what happened at Kristy's. Talk about creepy."

"Could we not talk about creepy right now?" asked Claudia. "That's all we've been talking about. I thought we were here to shop."

"Sorry, Claudia," said Stacey.

Claudia looked contrite. "I'm sorry, too. I didn't mean to be nasty. I guess all this stuff is just psyching me out, you know?"

She turned and refocused her attention on a rack of thin, silky-looking shirts that we'd been examining for at least five minutes. Then she said, "The blue." ,
 
"Huh?" I said.

"Try on the blue one," she commanded.

I looked doubtfully at the silky blue shirt. It was a very bright blue. I am not a bright blue sort of person.

On the other hand, Stacey was nodding

slowly. "I can see it," she murmured.

"Okay," I said, "I'll try it on. But I don't promise to like it."

We were shopping at the mall. Specifically, Claudia and Stacey were helping me look for something new (and affordable) for the special football-season-is-over date.

Logan had mentioned the possibility of going to a "real" restaurant for dinner.

He hadn't mentioned sending me any notes.

As if she had read my thoughts, Stacey said, "So, what did Logan say about the note he sent you?"

"He didn't say anything. I don't think he sent it." I'd told everyone in the BSC about the note I'd found in my locker. Everyone except Logan, that is. For some reaso'n, I was waiting for him to say something.

Didn't the fact that he hadn't said anything prove that the note was some kind of weird joke that someone — not Logan — was pulling?

Both Stacey and Claudia thought this made sense.

"Hmm," said Stacey, raising her eyebrows. "I wonder which extremely immature person in SMS might do an extremely childish and stupid thing like sending anonymous notes."

None of us said anything for a moment. But

I knew we were all thinking of Cokie Mason. Not only had she had a massive crush on Logan, but she also had sent Kristy threatening notes once.

Then Claudia remembered our mission. "The blue shirt," she said, thrusting it into my arms.

We headed for the dressing rooms.

By the time we'd finished shopping, I'd added not a blue shirt but a very thin, lace-edged sweater to my wardrobe. I was going to wear it with a skirt, and one of Stacey's belts. I also bought new, patterned stockings, and Claudia promised to lend me a pair of her earrings "that would be awesome."

I was feeling pretty pleased as we walked out of the mall and headed for the corner, to wait for the bus back to Stoneybrook. We were going back to Claudia's house. Later, Sharon was going to pick up Stacey and me, and drop off Stacey on the way to our house.

Suddenly, I had this creepy sensation. I was sure I was being watched.

I stopped so abruptly that Claudia ran into me. "Hey!" she complained. "Watch out!"

I didn't answer. I turned and looked around the parking lot. Plenty of people were around, driving cars, parking, and walking to and from the mall.

Nobody was paying any attention to me.

That's what I told myself. But I also realized that if someone wanted to, he or she could watch me very easily. He could slump down in the seat of any one of dozens of cars, or crouch down beside or behind one of the cars, in the shadows. There were plenty of ways to see me without being seen.

"Mary Anne?" Claudia touched my shoulder. "Is there a reason you want to wait for the bus in the middle of the road?"

"Oh. Sorry," I said. I felt foolish. I joined Claudia and Stacey in the shelter of a bus stop.

The late afternoon shadows were lengthening. As the days grew colder and winter settled in, the dark came earlier and earlier. It would be almost dark by the time we reached Claudia's.

I shivered.

Claudia said, "I could use some quality junk food about now."

"Claud, we had popcorn in the mall," Stacey reminded her.

"True," Claudia answered regretfully.

I didn't say anything. I just kept looking

around. Someone was watching. I could feel it.

I was sure of it. Someone was out there in one

of those cars, watching me.

The way someone had watched my house.

But I couldn't prove it. If I said anything, I would probably sound as if I were paranoid, because of what had happened at Kristy’s house. And what I thought had happened at mine.

. So I kept quiet. And I kept watch, too, until at last the bus arrived and we were able to head safely home.

"We're hooooome," sang Claudia as we pushed open her back door.

From upstairs, I heard a door open, and footsteps.

"De de, de de." Claudia hummed the theme from that old show, The Twilight Zone.

Her sister Janine's voice floated down the stairs. "Claudia. You do recollect that it is your responsibility to set the table and start dinner tonight?"

"No sweat," Claudia called back. "Trust me. We'll be feasting before you know it."

Janine didn't answer. Her footsteps retreated along the floor and her door closed.

"What are you making for dinner?" asked Stacey.

"I was thinking of a Twinkie casserole with Dream Whip topping," Claudia answered, deadpan. Then she laughed. "All I have to do is set the table and make the salad, and then

help my father cut up some vegetables for the pasta."

"We can help you set the table," I said.

Stacey and I slung our packs over the backs of the kitchen chairs. I put my shopping bag down, and we began to help Claudia set the table for dinner.

We'd just finished folding the napkins when Stacey sniffed the air. "You didn't put something in the oven, or turn on a burner or anything, did you, Claudia?"

"Nope. The frozen meatloaf is tomorrow and it’s Janine who has to — " She stopped. She sniffed the air, too.

"Wow," she said. "Something's . . . burning?"

"Maybe someone's burning leaves," I suggested.'

"No," said Stacey. "They can't do that anymore. Remember how excited Dawn was when they made it a law that everyone has to put their leaves out for compost for the parks department?"

We sniffed the air again, this time simultaneously.

And we all noticed the same thing at the same time.

The dining room was filling up with smoke.

"Fire?" said Claudia.

We dropped napkins and silverware on the table and ran back into the kitchen. The smell of burning was much stronger. And the kitchen was filling up with smoke, too.

Claudia yanked the oven door open and Stacey did the same to the microwave. Nothing. I jerked open-the pantry door. I saw smoke there, too, but no fire.

Then I saw it. I raised my hand and pointed.

Through the window of the kitchen door, I could see flames leaping up outside.

"Fire!" shouted Claudia. "I'll get Janine."

"I'll call nine-one-one," I said.

Stacey reached for the back door and Claudia said, with amazing calmness, "Don't open the door. It might make the fire worse."

"We should close the kitchen door behind

us," I said as Claudia dashed to the foot of the stairs.

"JANINE!" she screamed.

"What?" Janine's voice sound faintly irritated.

"FIRE!" shouted Claudia.

That got Janine's attention. She shot out into the hallway and peered down the stairs.

The smoke was rising now.

She half turned and Claudia said, "Don't go back. Leave now. Come on."

"But my computer — "

"NOW!" shouted Claudia.

We all looked at her in surprise, but Janine obeyed. A moment later, we dashed for the front door, slamming doors behind us as we went. Claudia made a mad dash for the next-door neighbors' to call the fire department, and Stacey and Janine and I ran around to the back of the house.

It was a fire all right. But as hot as it was blazing, it gave me a cold chill.

Because it wasn't an accident. Two trash cans had been set up near the back door. The firefighters said later that rags soaked in gasoline had been stuffed into the cans and then lit, after the cans were set up.

The fire had been set deliberately. And if we hadn't acted as fast as we had, it might have spread — maybe even to the house.

Chapter 6.

Claudia.

"Maybe it’s all connected," said Abby.

"How?" Kristy shot back. If I hadn't known better, I'd have thought that all the excitement — if that’s what you want to call it — of the last few days was getting on her nerves.

We were halfway through our Friday afternoon meeting of the BSC, but nowhere near through discussing everything that had happened.

Mary Anne said, "Well, first I found that weird note in what looks like Logan's handwriting. But I'm almost absolutely positive he didn't write it. Then, on that very same day, someone throws a rock through your front window and writes graffiti on your front door. I mean, the graffiti was sort of like an anonymous note, too. And then someone sets a fire at Claudia's."

"True," said Kristy. "The police kept asking Watson and Mom if they have any enemies."

"The fire marshal asked us the same question," I said. "They know how it was done, but not a single clue about who did it."

"Same thing at our house," said Kristy. "They're still investigating, but they don't have a single suspect."

"Cokie Mason?" said Stacey.

"No!" cried Mary Anne.

"She's sent anonymous notes before, remember?" Stacey persisted. "And she is jealous of you, Mary Anne." Mary Anne looked even more unhappy. She always tries to see the best in everyone and I think it shocks her to realize that some people's best sides aren't all that good.

BOOK: Baby-Sitters Beware
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