The Bell Bandit by Jacqueline Davies Page B

porch to the window on the other side of the front door, and Maxwell came along right after her.
    Again, they slowly raised their heads to look inside the window and saw ... nothing. Just the living room, with no one in it.
    Jessie sank down, pressing her back against the house. She looked at Maxwell, hoping he'd have a great idea, but he just looked like he wanted to go home. Spying was more difficult than Jessie had imagined.
    Suddenly, there was a clattering and banging noise inside the house. The front door flew open, and two boys in ski jackets and boots came charging out of the house and onto the porch.

Chapter 10
Shattering Glass
    Evan started running down the driveway. Grandma would be easy to spot, he was sure. She was wearing a dark green coat that would stand out like a flag with all that white snow blanketing the ground. He wished he could follow her tracks, but Jessie and Maxwell and Pete and Evan had made so many footprints since yesterday, it was impossible to make sense out of the mishmash that covered the driveway.
    And what if she hadn't stuck to the driveway? What if she was in the woods that spread out on both sides? Evan ran past Little Pond, looking left and right. The woods were shaded and filled with the shifting shadows of brown and green cast by tall pine trees. The sun was low in the sky, and the woods seemed to be sprouting strange shapes right before his eyes. If Grandma had stopped to sit down, if she was hurt and lying on the ground surrounded by the thickness and silence of those trees, he would never see her.
    He started to run faster. He thought of calling out, but a voice inside told him not to. Maybe Grandma had forgotten who he was again. Maybe she would be afraid of him. If she heard his voice calling, she might hide, and then he would never find her.
    The thought banged against the inside of his skull with every crashing step he took. It was cold, and it was getting dark. She was old and didn't remember things right. People died up here in the mountains. Kids lost in a snowstorm. Grownups when their cars broke down. Hikers who left the trails and became disoriented. Evan had heard the stories. People died up here.
    Evan kept running. The driveway was long and curved and stretched for over half a mile before reaching the road. He was breathing hard, and each breath felt like a rusty knife sawing through his lungs. His eyes stung from the cold, and two puddles of snot collected under his nostrils. But he kept running. Running toward the road. How far could she have gotten? As far as the road? She was wearing a dark green coat. No one would be able to see that coat if she was walking on the side of the road after dark. What if a car came around a curve too fast?
    When Evan reached the Big Rock, he heard a car—the crunch and grind of its wheels as it turned from the main road onto the driveway. Mom! Evan would have screamed if his throat weren't so dry and raw from running in the cold. He waved his arms wildly, running toward the road.
    But it wasn't his mother's car. It was Pete's truck, and Pete rolled down his window to find out why Evan was acting like a crazy person in the middle of the road. Breathing hard, trying to keep from crying, Evan explained.
    Pete listened seriously. "Okay, first thing, let's call your mom."
    "She doesn't have her cell phone with her—she left it at home! And I don't know exactly where she is. Somewhere in town. Meeting with an insurance agent."
    Pete nodded his head slowly, letting this information sink in.
    "All right, then. Here's the plan. Someone needs to stay at the house. Can you do that? Can you be the person who answers the phone if anyone calls and who waits there in case your grandmother comes back on her own?"
    Evan nodded his head.
    "I'll call the police, and they'll put together a search. When's your mom expected back?"
    Evan shook his head. "She said by dinnertime."
    "I think I better drive into town and track her down," said Pete. "If