Voices at Whisper Bend by Katherine Ayres Page A

might have stolen the metal—Paul Rossi, Mr. Costa, Mr. Willis, even that little kid in Robbie’s class. She refused to put Betsy’s name on the list. But at the bottom she wrote down Zalenchak and Merkow. Were they smart enough to accuse Betsy so nobody would suspect them? Sure. So maybe they should take Paul’s spot at the top of her list. Maybe, and maybe not. Either way, she’d have to set another trap. A better one.
    She slipped the list into her history book so Mrs. Alexander wouldn’t think it was a note and read it out loud. A good detective couldn’t let her suspects know what she was up to, could she?

C HAPTER 6
    S TITCHES

    After lunch, the little kids were going inside as Charlotte’s class was heading out. Robbie popped out of line and stuck a note in her hand.
    Charlotte. Rick Maloney found an old dump. Buried treasure, lots of cans, up at the end of Second Avenue. Let’s go after school. Robbie
    Charlotte had on her oldest skirt, one that was too tight, anyway, so Ma wouldn’t mind if she worked awhile without changing. They’d lose half an hour if they went home first. “Okay Meet you there,” she called as Robbie’s class marched inside.
    After school, she and Betsy walked along Second Avenue. The neighborhood was west of theirs by a few blocks, but it looked about the same. All the houses in the flats along the river were lined up in rows, with small yards and alleys along the back. If you wanted fancy in Braddock, you had to climb the hill.
    At the end of Second Avenue, Charlotte could see a weedy, junk-filled vacant lot with several small boys hard at work. On the sidewalk they’d lined up buckets and wagons and filled them with old rusty cans. Robbie and his friend Rick stood in the middle of the vacant lot wrestling with what looked like a door from an old car.
    â€œThat’s real heavy. Let us help,” she offered.
    She stepped carefully around an old icebox and some broken bottles. Robbie was grabbing the top of the old car door. Rick tugged at the handle.
    â€œWe need to move this old tire out of the way first,” Betsy said. “It’s jamming the door.”
    Charlotte bent to grab the tire. Nasty, greenish water dumped out when she and Betsy lifted it. “Come on, let’s roll this to the sidewalk for the eighth graders’ tire drive. Even if we’re mad at them, the tires will help the war.”
    When they got to the sidewalk, Charlotte let the tire flop down. As she straightened her back, she found herself looking at Paul Rossi. “What are you doing here?” she asked in surprise.
    â€œWhat, is there a law against standing on the sidewalk? I live nearby. What about you?”
    She shrugged. “Just collecting scrap. My brother and his friends—”
    â€œHey, that’s a big door they’re lifting. Want some help?”
    No, Charlotte wanted to say. Yau’ll only steal this too. But if he really did have brothers in the Marines, would he? Besides, Robbie and Rick were getting nowhere with that door.
    â€œOkay. The door is pretty heavy.”
    Paul, Charlotte, and Betsy stepped back around the icebox. With five kids lifting, they freed the car door and lugged it to the sidewalk.
    â€œLet her down easy,” Paul said. “One, two—”
    Something must have slipped. Charlotte held tight to the door bottom, but the top clanked to the ground.
    Robbie reached and tried to stop it, then yelled. “Oww!”
    â€œWhat?” Charlotte dropped the door and grabbed for Robbie’s hand. Blood dripped all over the sidewalk. “Gosh, Robbie! Oh, geez. Somebody help us.”
    Before she could even think what to do, Paul Rossi had ripped off his shirt and was wrapping it tightly around Robbie’s hand. “Come on, kid. We’d better get you to the hospital.”
    â€œWait! Our doctor’s office is right up on the avenue. It’s closer,” said