The Black Tower by Betsy Byars Page A

knew what you were working on for Mr. Hunt, she would tell us. She doesn’t treat everything as a big secret.”
    Her mom seemed to think that over. “Mr. Randolph, the lawyer, was drawing up a will for Mr. Hunt. This was before his stroke, and he wanted some investigative work done. He contacted me. I was to find the other sister. That was the extent of my involvement, but I became interested in the old man. I felt sorry for him. I used to drop in and see him from time to time.”
    â€œThis sister you were going to find. It’s not the old crazy one who left the message on your machine.”
    â€œNo. There were younger sisters—twins. Only one of them is alive now, and that was who I was to find.”
    Herculeah had her mom talking now, and she didn’t want her to stop. “Everybody says there’s money hidden in the house—even Nurse Wegman. By the way, I don’t trust her. She’s weird.”
    â€œMr. Randolph hired the nurses himself. They’re the same team that nursed his invalid mother, so you don’t have to worry about them.”
    â€œSo is there money hidden in the house?”
    â€œI hope you haven’t been poking around the house looking for it.”
    â€œOf course not. Give me some credit. I’m smarter than that.”
    â€œToo smart sometimes.” Her mother changed the subject. “Did you get supper?”
    â€œI ordered pizza. There’s some left if you want it.”
    â€œI grabbed a bite on the way home. Incidentally, I’ll be leaving early in the morning.”
    â€œDon’t work too hard.”
    â€œI won’t.”
    She left and Herculeah put her granny glasses on again. “Think,” she told her brain. “Think about what could have been thrown from the tower. What could have sprouted wings? What—?”
    Before her brain had a chance to work, the phone rang. “I’ll get it, Mom, it’s probably Meat.
    â€œOh, hi, Meat,” she said, “I was hoping it was you. Also, I’m hoping that you’ll go to Hunt House with me tomorrow. It won’t be any fun without you.”
    â€œDidn’t you hear what Mom said in the car? My dad’s going to call.”
    â€œI heard, but if he calls early ...”
    â€œMaybe.”
    â€œDon’t you want to find out what was thrown at you?”
    â€œI guess.”
    â€œRemember that old song ‘Blowin’ in the Wind’?” She tried to make her voice mysterious so he would be interested.
    â€œYes.”
    â€œWell, something was blowin’ in the wind at Hunt House.”
    â€œAnd you’re going to find out what it was.”
    â€œI’ve got to.”
    â€œCall me when you get back.”
    â€œI will. Maybe I’ll call before I go—try to change your mind. I gotta go now. Good night, Meat.”
    â€œGood night.”
    Herculeah sighed. Maybe she could compete with a phone call from an airhead like Steffie, but not a call from Macho Man. She adjusted her granny glasses and waited, hoping to get an idea of what had been blowin’ in the wind.

17
    HERCULEAH ON HER OWN
    This was the first time Herculeah had come to Hunt House without Meat at her side. She missed him. Being with Meat always made her feel she had to be brave and protective. She didn’t want anything to happen to him. And she knew she was going to have to be especially brave today.
    The night before, when her mom came in to say a final good night, she had said, “I’d rather you didn’t go back to Hunt House to read to Mr. Hunt.”
    â€œMom!” “At least not until I’ve had a chance to talk to Mr. Randolph about the situation.”
    â€œMom!”
    â€œAnd I’ll do that tomorrow. Good night, Herculeah.”
    Her mother had not, Herculeah reminded herself, said, “I forbid you to go to Hunt House.” She had said, “I’d rather you didn’t go back to Hunt