Spy in the Alley (11 page)

“Um, if you're not doing anything,” I began.

She slapped
Vogue
down on the coffee table. “Want to bike over to Clark Rose Gardens?” she demanded. “I'm determined to get to the bottom of this Buckteeth thing.”

I put one felt-pen-stained finger under my dropped jaw and pretended to struggle to lift it up again. This was Madge talking?
Madge?

She regarded me with the faintest hint of a smile. “Let's go.”

We stopped outside the tall fence that surrounded Clark Rose Gardens.

“Of course, this could be very foolish of us,” Madge said uncertainly, as cars whipped down busy Clark Drive. She stood, clasping and unclasping her hands on the handlebars of her bicycle. “If we think Buckteeth the spy works within these walls, maybe we should contact the police. Or tell Mother. Or Jack. I mean, Roderick.”

“Madge, you're just being a girl,” I said scornfully.

However, even I was feeling somewhat stymied. The tall, wrought-iron gate, complete with intercom, wasn't exactly welcoming.

“We can't get inside this fortress,” Madge fretted.

“Sure we can,” I said. “I'll … I'll pretend to be ill, and then someone will have to come out and carry me inside. It's like that story about the prince who decorates himself with red polka dots and pretends he has measles. I've already got the polka dots.” I pointed to my leg.

Madge stared at me as if I were insane.

“Okay, it's not the best plan I've ever come up with,” I acknowledged.

Madge was just opening her mouth, no doubt to utter something extremely insulting, when a group of elderly people strolled up. They were pushing a wide bundle buggy filled with bags of fresh, colorful produce.

“Love that Commercial Drive,” a woman exclaimed. “But I wish I hadn't eaten so many fries!” She patted her tummy. “I'd better go in and face the treadmill,” she sighed. Noticing Madge and me, she added, as one of her friends punched in the entry code, “Now, Jeffrey, hold the gate open for these nice young women.”

“You don't even
know
us,” I reproved her, all my Block Watch admonitions rising to the top. “It's not good safety procedure just to admit
anyone
.”

“Oh, you two look quite harmless,” scoffed the woman. Still ruefully patting her tummy, she proceeded through, followed by her friends. Only Jeffrey remained, nervously holding the gate and squinting at us.

“Why
are
you two here?” he demanded.

“Because of your gardener,” Madge said, her obvious embarrassment proof that she had more doubts than ever about our mission.

Though he looked about to keel over from the heat, Jeffrey wore a skeptical expression. I couldn't blame him. After all, I
had
told him not to trust strangers — which we definitely were. I decided that this was no time for hesitation.

“We can't very well continue standing here like garden ornaments,” I said. I wheeled my bike past Jeffrey, and Madge had no choice but to come along with me.

Jeffrey shut the gate with a clang that made Madge jump. She hissed at me, “You and your bizarre imaginings about spies lurking in alleyways. I should be trying to
help
you, my poor, demented little sister, not
act
like you.”

“You're ranting, Madge,” I informed her with dignity. Remind me, I thought, never again to take a teenager along on my investigations.

From down the winding path, between sculpted hedges and rosebushes, came the drone of a lawn mower. “The gardener! That's our man,” Madge exclaimed, forgetting her doubts.

“A young woman like you going for a loser like Theo,” marveled Jeffrey, pointing his cane in the direction of the droning lawn mower. “In my day a feller had to be charming and good-looking to attract a pretty gal.”

“You don't understand,” Madge protested, mortified. “I'm not — ”

“Such a funny-looking feller,” mused Jeffrey. “That overbite! And his eyes are almost colorless. Is that what you really fancy, my dear?”

“Oh no, I fancy gray eyes,” she replied without thinking. Then, evidently remembering that Jack had gray eyes and Roderick, who was supposed to be her boyfriend, had blue, she stammered, “I don't want to talk about eye color with you, sir. We have to sneak up on Bu — I mean, Theo.”

Jeffrey scrunched up his face until it resembled a walnut. He cackled with enjoyment. “My, my! Courting ways have certainly changed since I was a young 'un.”

Propping our bikes against a large rosebush, we peeked around toward the sound of the lawn mower.

It was Buckteeth, all right. Since he was biting his lower lip in concentration, his two front teeth protruded even more than usual, appearing large and sharp enough to be able to cut the grass he was now using the mower on.

I clapped a hand over my mouth to keep from giggling nervously at this thought. Not that Theo could've heard me: as well as the noise of the mower, he was wearing a set of headphones. Through the wispy white-blond hair on which these sat, a sunburned scalp glowed, growing pinker by the minute.

He was still wearing the stick-figure-covered GASP T-shirt. Either he owned more than one of these shirts, or he rarely did a laundry.

Beyond Theo a door slammed. An old woman stomped into view from between two fat rosebushes. My old foe, Rosalie Nickablock! Beneath her powder- blue sun hat, Mrs. Nickablock was scowling. Wait — that scowl was a permanent expression.

She tried yelling Theo's name over the noise of the lawn mower. When that didn't work, Mrs. Nickablock hiked up her dress and, in a most unladylike manner, straddled a bed of pansies. Heaving her weight from one fat leg to another, she brought herself forward onto the lawn Theo was mowing. Then she rammed her cane deep into the grass and leaned on it, puffing from her exertions.

After a moment, she swung the cane up to jab Theo in the back. He jumped, switched the lawn mower off and spun round.

“I hear you've been skipping off work,” Mrs. Nickablock scolded, in a loud, whiny voice that rivaled the rumble of traffic from Clark. “That you been just walking off and leaving your duties whenever the fancy strikes you.
I
got you this job, boy. Your mother wants you to earn money to go back to school, instead of loafing. Then there's the orthodontics you been asking for.”

Mrs. Nickablock squinted up at Theo. More specifically, at his buckteeth. “Land's sake. That'll cost
thousands
. You better get to work, boy! Never thought a nephew of mine would be a slacker. A
slacker
, a
slacker
,” the old woman cawed, like a crow.

I was beginning to feel sorry for Theo, even if he was a spy.

“I get my work done,” Theo defended himself. “Yeah, I take a few time outs, sure. It so happens I got a second job.” He drew his lips back in a smirk. His teeth hovered over his aunt, pointing down at her like a pair of scissors.

Yup, I thought, wincing. He's right about needing orthodontics.

Theo added impressively, “I got myself an
important
job. Surveillance work.”

“Huh?” I muttered to Madge.

“Surveillance is another word for spying,” Madge whispered back, bewildered.

“Well, he's been spying into our backyard,” I returned doubtfully. “But who would pay him to do
that
?”

Mrs. Nickablock was equally skeptical. “All I can say, Theo Nickablock, is that if you botch this perfectly decent job I arranged for you out of the kindness of my heart, I — well, I wash my hands of you!”

With another of those ungraceful straddling movements, Theo's aunt heaved herself back across the flowerbed and stormed into her house. Her voice floated back, “I wish I'd never moved here! First, a couple of no-good kids pilfer my sun hat. I have to hose 'em to get it back! Then, my own flesh and blood gets uppity!”

The slamming of her door reverberated around Clark Rose Gardens.

I had stopped feeling sorry for Theo. Quite aside from the fact that he was a spy, he wasn't even honorable enough to own up to taking his aunt's sun hat. I whispered indignantly to Madge, “Imagine letting her blame Pantelli and me, who are honest, nice, well-meaning …”

“Let's not get carried away,” Madge whispered back. “Anyhow, we should be concentrating on finding out
whom
Theo is spying for, and what they want with the Galloway family.”

“How sweet!”

We looked up. Unfortunately, so did Theo.

Two elderly ladies were cooing at Madge. “Lingering near a loved one! Some things never change,” one beamed at her. “Jeffrey's told us all about it. Well, now, you know, that's how I snared my Albert! I waited for him every day after school. Everywhere Albert went, so went I!”

She and her friend giggled. Theo, approaching from my other side, did not. His sunburned forehead was puckered in an unpleasant frown, and his buckteeth looked especially sharp and scissor-like.

The two women exploded in fresh giggles. “Your strategy has worked, dearie,” the second one congratulated Madge. “He's noticed you!”

“Five's a crowd. We'll be shuffling off,” winked her friend, adding to me, “Why don't we fix you some peanut-butter cookies and milk, sweetie? Let's leave these two lovebirds alone!”

“Um,” I said. The idea of cookies and milk was tempting. I mean, it
was
near dinnertime.

Madge addressed me in her deadliest voice. “You'll stay right here, Dinah.”

“So coy!” Flapping their hands at Madge, the two old ladies bundled off down the winding path and soon disappeared behind yet more rosebushes.

“Just what do you think you're doing here?” Theo rasped.

“Um,” said Madge.

I felt sorry for her. That's the nice thing about being a younger sister. The older ones always get nabbed with the questions.

“Well?” demanded Theo. He took a step closer. Up close, Theo wasn't as toothpick-ish as he'd seemed from afar. He looked capable of propelling Madge and me out to Clark Drive and tossing us neatly into the furious flow of traffic.

Madge took a deep breath. “Hi, Theo,” she said.

Good girl, I thought. That's the way to go. Brazen it out.

I was longing to fling some questions at him. Like, why hadn't Buzz obtained Theo's name while questioning him? Wouldn't a security expert want some sort of record? It didn't make sense. Buzz had been so off-handed about the whole thing, saying,
He's just some nerd
.

My mind began to work, slowly and ploddingly. It was almost as if, I thought, Buzz hadn't
needed
to ask Theo for information.

“SO WHADDYA DOING HERE?” Theo yelled. He advanced another step toward Madge.

Madge stammered, “I'm — we're — ”

I interrupted loudly, “Buzz sent us.”

Chapter Fourteen

Roderick gets an earful

Theo and I were staring at each other now. I think I was just as surprised as he was.

Then, to my total disbelief, all the hostility vanished from his sunburned face. He licked his prominent front teeth, considering. “I thought Buzz didn't need me anymore today. He said he had enough for now.”

“He did?” I said cluelessly. I managed a weak smile. “Oh … um, well, he
does
, for sure. He has plenty.” Plenty of what? I wondered. “Buzz just … ” I floundered, stretching my weak smile as wide as I could. “He just, um, wanted to tell you what a great job you're doing.”

A surprised grin crept over Theo's sunburned features. He did not, I suspect, receive a lot of compliments. “Well, I try,” he said modestly. “I have a feeling the information I gave Buzz yesterday should be ve-e-e-r-r-ry useful.”

Huh? What information could anyone possibly find out from spying on the Galloway family? Both Madge and I were wearing expressions that clearly reflected our incredulity. Theo suddenly frowned. “Buzz sent you here to compliment me? That doesn't sound like Buzz.”

Madge and I simultaneously decided this would be a good time to back away. “It's his kinder, gentler side coming through,” Madge suggested, as, retreating without looking where we were going, we stepped backward into a pansy bed.

Fragrance shot up from the crushed petals. “Sorry,” Madge said lamely. “I hope this doesn't increase your workload too much … ”

With that lame exit line, we both turned and fled.

In my last glimpse of Theo, he was gazing stupidly at the damaged flowers. He was mumbling through his buckteeth something about Aunt Rosalie killing him. By the time we were out on Clark Drive, I was bent over my handlebars, laughing at the thought of Theo trying to explain about the crushed flowers.

Madge, however, did not share my amusement. As we veered left on Broadway Avenue, she tossed seething comments at me about ripping Roderick limb from limb.

“Great,” I said enthusiastically. Who said older sisters don't know how to have fun?

Madge was so angry that she didn't wait till we got home to tear Roderick apart — verbally, anyway. She parked her bike outside Julio's Gelati, stormed up to the counter and grabbed the phone. Julio never minded when we used his phone. He was surprised, though, when Madge started yelling into it.

“Madge Galloway?” Julio exclaimed, bemused. He lifted his black, mop-like eyebrows at me, as I locked our bikes to the rack outside. “Our, how do you say, crisp-as-a-cucumber Madge?”

“That's
cool
,” Madge corrected him, and turned back to the phone to resume her yelling at Roderick.

No way I was going to miss out on this. I pressed the speaker button on the phone, and Roderick's response floated out.

“What's ‘cool'? ” he said, puzzled. “I thought you were mad at me.”

“I AM,” screamed Madge. “BUZZ BEWFORD, YOUR SECURITY ‘EXPERT,' KNEW BUCK TEETH ALL ALONG. I MEAN, HE KNEW THEO NICKABLOCK. YOU EMPLOY BUZZ. THEREFORE YOU HAVE TO KNOW WHAT'S GOING ON. AND YOU'RE GOING TO TELL ME NOW.”