Back to Bailey's Chase

CHAPTER ONE
The Cat Burglar

"I'm so bored," Sparky said with a groan. She spread her arms wide and flopped onto the bed.

Grey put her art supplies into the desk drawer and watched her cousin kick both feet into the air as if riding an upside-down bicycle. She could sketch landscape scenes or read mysteries and never get bored. However, Sparky, a high-energy kid, liked to be on the move.

"Only boring people get bored," Grey said with a smile and gave Sparky a playful poke in the ribs. "Come on–let's go find something to do."

Sparky grinned good-naturedly, tumbled off the bed, and followed Grey.

The girls headed down to Mom's beauty shop in the front of their home. Sometimes they sat in the shop and listened to the women talk. Sometimes they looked at the ladies' fashion and hairstyle magazines. Once in a while, Mom suggested an interesting way to spend a summer day. Sparky and Grey loved it when she told them how she spent her days as a child, although they really couldn't imagine her being a child. Dad either. It was just too weird.

On this particular day, Mrs. Thornbottom, a rather round lady with bluish-gray hair complained loudly, "You better believe it, my friends, nothing is safe anymore. You wouldn't think you'd have to lock your doors just to walk to the post office or have coffee with a neighbor three doors down the street." She paused for a deep breath, while the other two customers in the shop stopped turning the pages of their magazines and listened.

Sparky and Grey settled into the two hair-dryer chairs. Mom didn't mind if they listened, but she preferred for them not to talk, and they were never to interrupt her customers.

Mabel Brownstone, a tall red-haired woman who worked at the hospital, spoke up. "You mean someone actually came into your house while you were gone and stole something?"

"Oh, yes indeed," Mrs. Thornbottom said. "A regular cat-burglar."

"You mean he stole your cat?" Sparky asked, totally shocked by the news. Tiny sparks bounced around her blonde ponytail like they always did when she got excited, but of course, no one noticed except Grey.

Mom gave a quick glance reminding her not to jump into adult conversations. After all, she always told them, customers didn't come to the beauty shop to converse with kids.

But Mrs. Thornbottom didn't seem to mind. "Oh no, honey," she said quickly, "that just means he was a petty thief, stealing small things. In and out quickly, just like a cat."

Sparky smiled at her, glad she had honored her question, even though she had broken a beauty shop rule. She wanted to ask more about it, but bit her lip for restraint.

The woman continued with her story. "Day before yesterday, I was having coffee with my cousin, Rose–she lives just down the street. We have coffee together a couple of times a week and have for years. During the thirty minutes or so when I was gone, someone slipped into my house and ransacked my jewelry box. He stole my pearls and best earrings–the emerald ones Harold gave me for our anniversary. Of course, he thinks I just misplaced them, but I know it was a burglar."

The listening ladies made tsk-tsk sounds of sympathy and shook their heads in disgust. Grey's eyes, that changed colors with her moods, darkened two shades. Sparky wondered if Grey was as surprised as she was, by a crime in their quiet neighborhood. Then she remembered Grey came from California only a year ago, and decided they probably had crime there all the time. Yes, after thinking about it for a moment, Sparky felt certain Californians probably got robbed on a regular basis. However, she found crime in her own neighborhood very unsettling.

"As if my jewelry wasn't enough," Mrs. Thornbottom went on, "he got into my kitchen drawer and took all of my loose change and my best calculator."

"Nothing else was bothered?" one of the ladies asked.

"Not that I can find. I imagine he was afraid I'd come back and catch him, since I had left the television and the lights on." She tugged at the cape around her shoulders with a menacing look and said, "Humph! I wish I had caught him. I'd have taken a broom to his backside, that's for sure. That's for darn sure."

"Oh dear," Miss Mabel said in a motherly tone, "I don't think you should ever confront a burglar. You could get hurt. Better to just call the police."

Everyone nodded in agreement.

"Well, I called them and little good it did me. I'll never see my things again," she said with a pout, sounding very sad. "And I loved those earrings so."

Miss Willis, a pretty, young pharmacist who worked at the corner drugstore and had been listening carefully said, "A retired couple had a digital camera stolen from their home over on Third Street about a week ago. I heard it happened in broad daylight. They went out for lunch and left their home unlocked."

"Third Street," exclaimed Mom. "Why, that's only two streets over. It was probably the same thief."

"The Cat Burglar," said Sparky, then quickly clapped her hand over her mouth.

"Well, they'd better not tell Harold about their missing camera," Mrs. Thornbottom said with a huff. "He'd say they just misplaced it."

Mom said, "I suppose we should all start locking our doors, but it's hard when you have family coming in and out all day, like I do." She glanced at the girls.

Sparky thought it would be fun to catch a burglar in the act and maybe rope him and tie him up like they do in the movies. Grey somberly recorded all the information.

Sparky couldn't imagine her house being locked except when they were all in bed at night or when the family went on a vacation. It would be a real pain, she thought, to have to lock and unlock the door every time she and Grey ran in and out during the day. She knew a cat burglar would have to be very quick to rob them without being seen. The older kids all had jobs or were away at college, popping in only occasionally, but Dad came home from the store almost every day for lunch. And Mom's beauty shop had to always be open to customers. Sparky felt safe living in such a busy house.

Grey nudged Sparky and whispered, "Come on."

Sparky followed Grey out of the shop and into the yard.

"This is just like the Nancy Drew mystery I've been reading," Grey said. "We can investigate and search for clues just like she does."

"Yeah," Sparky said excitedly, "a real mystery in our own neighborhood–let's do it!"

They scanned the yard for Newt, their closest neighbor. Being twelve now, a year older than the girls, Newt considered himself to be a future world-famous scientist.

"He's probably working on his tadpole project," Grey said. "Whistle for him."

Sparky put two fingers to her lips and whistled long and loud.

Newt's head appeared in the doorway of the garage he used as a workshop. He lived with his dad in the apartment over the garage, which was really an old carriage house. Preparing for his life as a scientist, Newt ran continual scientific investigations. "Good morning, ladies. What can I do for you?"

The girls liked Newt even if he did appear a bit strange, being so preoccupied with science. Lately, he had little time for them.

"Did you know there's a cat burglar in the neighborhood?" Sparky asked. "And he's not stealing cats!"

"Tell me more." He took off his safari hat and straightened his glasses.

"Well, he's stolen stuff from two homes that we know of," Sparky replied.

Grey added, "He burglarized the Thornbottom home on this very street two days ago and another house over on Third Street last week."

"How do you know it's a he? Maybe it's a burglarette!" Newt laughed at his newly-created word.

"Just a guess," Sparky said.