Sammy Keyes and the Dead Giveaway Read Online Free PDF Page B

days!”
    “But … how can they do that? Don't you own this house?”
    “Heavens yes, I own this house! And the Stones own theirs, as do the Quinns next door that way! And the lawyer on the corner owns his, too! He's put a heap of money into renovating that place! But the city council has decided to exercise eminent domain to acquire all of them!”
    “Eminent domain?” It sounded vaguely familiar, but more like the end of the world than something you exercise. “What's that?”
    “A law. A very
old
law. And it was designed to be used in national emergencies or times of war or some such. It certainly shouldn't be used to expand a
sports
complex!”
    “Wait—
what
are they planning to do?”
    “They want to tear down all the buildings on Hopper Street, pull out all the lovely pines that divide us from the ball fields, and put in batting cages, a sports café, and a community rec center. Instead of my house they want batting cages!”
    A rec center? A sports café? Batting cages?
    It sounded great!
    “They offered piddles because that's what they say the house is worth, but that's really irrelevant—I am not going to sell. Not for a million dollars!”
    I'm afraid
Really?
was written all over my face, because she frowned and said, “It may not seem like much to you, but this home took a lifetime to create. It's my honeymoon cottage, the place my three children were raised…I have countless memories here, and …and… Frank's ashes are scattered in the backyard!”
    “I didn't—”
    “When I think of the painstaking care he put into the additions … You can't just buy a Pullman parlor car anymore, you know.” She pointed across the house. “And that one was a positive wreck when we got it. Frank restored it completely! It took him
years
to track down all the parts, not to mention refinishing and installing them.”
    The doorbell rang and she said, “That'll be the Stones. Do you still have time to walk Captain Patch?”
    “Sure. And I'm sorry, Mrs. Willawago. I didn't mean to be — ”
    “Never mind,” she said, waving it off. “A million dollars sounds like a lot, I know. Especially when you're young. But you can't let money erode your principles or you'll wind up with nothing.”
    It sounded like something my friend Hudson Graham would have said. Hudson's seventy-two, and I've learned that if I'll just take a second and actually
hear
the things he tells me, his advice can be really good. And since this felt like one of those Hudson statements, I found myself just standing there for a minute, letting what she'd said sort of sink into my brain.
    Then Mrs. Stone stepped inside the house, saying, “Marty has to rest. His back's flared up from mowing the yard,” and since I had a dog to walk, I grabbed Patch's leash and headed for the French door that leads from the living room to the backyard.
    Before I was even outside, Patch saw me through the glass and started wagging and wiggling like crazy, spinning in a circle. I laughed and said, “Hi, boy!” then latched him to the leash and let him drag me through the side gate, out to the street, and up Hopper the way I'd come.
    He kept his nose to the ground, sniffing his way along, and when we got to McEllen, I pulled him back, trying to get him to quit yanking on the leash. But he wiggled and wagged some more, yippy-yapping at me like, C'mon! You can't be tired yet!
    So up McEllen we ran. Only as we were passing by the municipal pool, I heard someone call out, “Sammy!”
    I skidded to a halt and looked around.
    “Over here!” the voice called.
    Then the body that went with it stepped out from under the pool entrance awning.
    “Brandon?”
    He looked taller.
    Older.
    Cuter.
    How could that be?
    My heart started bouncing around a little as he came toward me, saying, “It's been ages!” He broke into a blinding smile. “I ask Marissa about you whenever our families get together … she always has some wild story to tell.”
    I shrugged and looked