Ann Martin - Baby-Sitters Club 027

If the boy could have backed up then, I think he would have. But he turned round and saw Mallory blocking his path. No way out. He began to look scared.

"What's your name, kid?" asked Logan.

"I - I'm not telling. I mean, why do you want to know?" "Do you know that what you did is a felony?" I have no idea whether this is true, since Logan can make things up pretty easily, but it sure sounded good.

"It is?" "Yes. And in the state of Connecticut, it's punishable by twenty-five to fifty years in the slammer. Even for juvenile offenders." Now I knew Logan was just talking. He loves to use cop-show words like those.

"We could make a citizens' arrest," Logan went on. He looked around at us and we nodded as if to say, The seven of us are in agreement on eyen/thing.

"Are you going to?" asked the boy. "Arrest me, I mean?" Logan looked at us girls. Then just at me.

I shook my head. "Nope. He's not worth it." (The boy let out a breath he must have been holding for at least five minutes. That's how deep it sounded.) "So let go of him and show him the money," I said. "Let him see what he's missing." Logan grinned. "Sure thing." He opened the envelope and pulled out the Monopoly bills.

"That's all you'd have gotten away with anyway," I told the kid.

"That? Fake money?" he cried.

"Well, it just goes to show," spoke up Claudia. "Crime really doesn't pay." She grinned.

Everyone laughed except the boy, who looked disgusted. We moved aside and let him escape. He ran through the field the way he had come, and disappeared. The rest of us walked back to my neighborhood.

Our adventure was over. But where was Tigger?

Chapter 13.

That was a horrible thought, but Claudia certainly wasn't the only one to think it. I'd thought of it the very first night Tigger was gone, and it had been hanging over me like a dark cloud ever since. You can't help but wonder about the worst possibilities, yet you tell yourself all along that they could never happen. Anyway, Claudia's notebook entry didn't surprise or offend me.

It was Wednesday, the day after our rendezvous with the jerky kid in Brenner Field. My friends and I were trying to get back on normal schedules. I wanted to search for Tigger, but I had a feeling it would be pointless. I would just have to keep my eyes and ears open and let the posters do their work. So I was baby-sitting for Kerry and Hunter Bruno again, and Claudia was at the Perkinses'.

Myriah and Gabbie are really great kids. This is the truth. I knew it from the very first time I baby-sat for them. They adore Laura, their baby sister, they love to sing and dance, and they're very imaginative. Most kids just play house. You should see the games they invent. The afternoon that Claudia was there they played detective games.

When Claudia arrived, Mrs. Perkins re- minded her where the emergency numbers were posted. Then she gave Claud a few instructions, and she and Laura left. Claudia sat down at the kitchen table, where the girls were having a snack. Her first thought as she sat down was one I always have when I'm at the Perkinses': How weird to think that this used to be Kristy's house. It doesn't look the same from the inside, and it doesn't even feel the same. I guess that's good. It would be too weird if it looked and felt the same as ever.

Claudia watched Myriah and Gabbie, who were dunking Oreos in glasses of milk. "What do you want to do today, you guys?" she asked.

"Gosh," replied Myriah, "there are so many things." Claudia smiled. She wouldn't mind being five again. "Like what?" she asked.

"Like dancing or singing or making up a play." "Sounds like fun. Which do you want to do, Gabbers?" "Mm, let me think." Gabbie put down her glass of milk. "I would like to sing, Claudee Kishi," she replied. (Gabbie calls most people by their full names.) "I would like to sing Christmas songs." "Christmas songs!" exclaimed Claudia. "But Christmas is months away." "That doesn't matter," Myriah spoke up.

"I guess not," said Claudia.

Myriah and Gabbie jumped up from the table. "We know 'White Christmas,' " said Myriah. "And I'll Be Home for Christmas" Claudia was surprised. They did? What about the simple songs like "Jingle Bells" or "Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer?" But the Per-kins girls know a lot of long, grown-up songs. And sure enough, they knew both of these, word for word. They performed them with hand motions and everything.

Claudia was impressed. "Hurray!" she cried, clapping her hands. "Hurray!" The girls took bows. "Thank you, thank you," they said.

"And now," Myriah went on, as if she and Gabbie were putting on a show, "we will perform that oldy but goody, 'Blue Suede Shoes,' by Mr. Elvis Presley." Claudia was even more impressed. Apparently, Myriah and Gabbie knew an entire rock and roll song - and she didn't. Furthermore, for years Claudia had thought the singer's name was Elbow Presley.

Gabbie and Myriah ran to their bedrooms.

They returned wearing black sunglasses and Hawaiian shirts. Then they bopped their way through the song.

"Hey!" exclaimed Myriah when they had finished, and Claudia had stopped clapping. "Gabbie, you know what we could play now?" "What?" "Hawaiian detectives. We're all dressed for it." "Hawaiian defectives? What are they?" "They're people who live in Hawaii and look for things." "What kinds of things?" "Missing things. Like Tigger." "Oh." Claudia had stood up. She was clearing the kitchen table. She put the dirty plates and cups in the dishwasher. Then she sponged off the counter and tabletop.

"Claudia?" asked Myriah suddenly. "Do real detectives look for pets?" Claudia had no idea, but she said, "Well, I don't see why not. They look for people all the time. So I'm sure they look for animals, too." "Oh, good." "Come on, Claudee Kishi," Gabbie said, as Myriah led her sister outdoors.

Claudia followed the girls. As the three of them stepped onto the back porch, they were greeted by joyous woofs. There was Chewbacca, ready to play. He looked as if he wanted to say, Okay, guys. Here I am. All ready. What do we do first?

Gabbie glanced at Myriah. "Is Chewy going to be a defective, too?" "Yes," replied Myriah. "He is. He will help us find R.C. I mean, Tigger." Claudia smiled. R.C. is the Perkinses' cat. Claudia had a feeling the girls were going on a fake Tigger hunt. She also thought it was pretty interesting that Myriah didn't even expect to find Tigger anymore. Only a Tigger stand-in.

"Now, Gabbie," Myriah began, as she sat on the lawn with Claudia, Chewy, and her sister, "we are playing a special Hawaiian detective game called 'private eyes.' " "Private eyes?" repeated Gabbie, puzzled.

"Don't worry about it. They're detectives. A lot of them live in Hawaii." "Why?" "I don't know. They just do. At least on TV. But it doesn't matter. Now, the first thing private eyes do when they've got a case is - " "Go on the swings!" cried Gabble. She jumped up, heading for the swing set.

"No!" exclaimed Myriah. "Don't you want to play, Gabbers?" And Chewy looked at Gabbie with eyes that said, Oh, please, please, please, please, please stay and play with me! "Okay," she replied and sat down again.

Claudia pulled her into her lap.

"All right. There's a missing cat," Myriah began. "I mean, kitten. His name is Tigger. It's our job to find him. Are you ready for that job, Private Eye Gabbie?" Gabbie was poking at a beetle in the grass.

"Private Eye?" Myriah asked again. "Private Eye?" "You're the private eye," Claudia whispered to Gabbie.

"Oh, yeah," she said.

Sometimes we forget that Gabbie is only two and a half.

"Hmm. Maybe we need one more private eye around here," said Myriah.

Claudia didn't really want to play detectives, and started to say so, but before she could open her mouth, Myriah said, "Can we see if Jamie can come over?" "Sure," replied Claudia, even though sometimes this is a good idea, and sometimes it isn't. Jamie, Myriah, and Gabbie are good friends, but every now and then they get just a tiny bit wild.