Secret of the Red Arrow Read Online Free PDF Page B

like to have Sharelle as a sister, and a chill
     ran down my spine. “I asked these guys to come over because I knew you never
     would.”
    Neanderthal didn’t say anything. He was staring
     from me to Joe with a curled lip, like he smelled something horrible. “I
     don’t need any help from these two,” he said, and picked up the game
     controller again. He unpaused the game and turned his attention back to the screen.
     “You can show yourselves out,” he finished.
    Fair enough. I touched Joe’s arm and started heading for the door.
     We weren’t supposed to be doing any investigation right now . . .
     so why waste time trying to convince a guy who didn’t even want our help? But Joe
     seemed to hesitate, looking to Sharelle. Suddenly she jumped forward, grabbing the
     controller from her brother’s hand.
    “HEY!” Neanderthal yelled.
    “HEY YOURSELF!” she shouted back, matching him on volume. She
     gestured to me and Joe. “I asked these guys to come over today because even though
     you don’t have the best history, they’re the only ones who can help
     you,” Sharelle finished.
    Neanderthal pursed his lips. Clearly, he didn’t like the direction
     of this conversation. But I could tell that Sharelle’s words were making a dent.
     He let out a groan and looked down at his New York Giants comforter. Then he crossed his
     arms and settled back against the head of his bed, still scowling, still not looking at
     us.
    “Do you want to tell them what happened?” Sharelle asked,
     moving closer to the bed.
    Neanderthal shook his head. “You tell them,” he muttered.
    Sharelle turned back to face Joe and me.
     “Okay,” she said. “About a week ago, Neal started getting some very
     weird e-mails.”
    I nodded slowly. “Weirder than the e-mail this morning with the link
     to the movie trailer?”
    Neanderthal gave me a contemptuous look. “Dude, way weirder than
     that,” he said. “What do I care about you guys getting robbed in some bank?
     No, this was . . .” He trailed off, staring off into the distance,
     fear invading his expression.
    Not sure how to proceed, I looked to Sharelle. “This was?” I
     prompted.
    Sharelle looked at Neanderthal, as though waiting to see whether he could
     pull himself together and finish the story. When he didn’t move for a few seconds,
     she sighed and turned back to us. “This was really creepy,” she said.
     “The address was one he didn’t recognize, and the e-mail itself was just a
     link. No signature, no message.”
    I looked at Joe. This was sounding familiar.
     “Okay . . . and?”
    Sharelle paused and looked at her brother. “Tell them,
     Neal.”
    We both turned to face Neal. He was staring at the black television
     screen, and as we watched, he seemed to shake himself off and looked down at his
     comforter. “The link went to a video,” he said, then swallowed. “The
     video was . . . it was of me sleeping,” he said quickly, then shook
     his head again.
    I looked at Joe. He looked just as confused as I felt.
     “Sleeping?” he asked. “As in . . .”
    “As in right here, in this bed,” Neanderthal said, pattingthe mattress beneath him. “I don’t know when it was
     taken. Or how. Or by who. But whoever made it . . .” His voice
     wavered. “They were watching me all night.”
    I met Joe’s eyes. “Wow. That’s
     really . . .”
    “Creepy,” Joe finished. He shivered a little. “Man, I
     think I have the willies now.”
    Neanderthal looked a little relieved. “Yeah?” he asked.
     “It’s freaking me out too. I just don’t know who would want to watch
     me sleep—or why.”
    “That’s not all,” Sharelle added.
    “It’s not?” I asked.
    Neanderthal was shaking his head. “No,” he said. “The
     really creepy thing is, it’s happened more than once. I’ve gotten three
     videos e-mailed to me over the last five days.”
    I frowned. “So whoever’s watching you sleep—they might
     be