Project Jackalope Read Online Free Page B

ducked back so they wouldn’t spot me. I don’t know why I bothered, though, because Mr. Jones knew I was still here, and he was going to bust me any second now. I had one chance.
    As soon as Mr. Jones was in the living room, I made my move, slipping out as quietly as I could. I eased the door shut behind me and stood motionless for a second, but no one came after me, so I don’t think they’d noticed my stealthy moves.
    I took off down the stairs, taking three at a time. I had to talk to Agatha. Everything would be fine once I talked to Agatha. Twitchett wouldn’t like it, and her mom wouldn’t be happy with me banging on the door so early, but that was just too bad.
    But when I got to the bottom of the stairs, I stopped so fast I almost tripped over my feet. The other Upstairs Mr. Suit, aka Suit # 2, was standing in front of Agatha’s door.
    I have to admit, I just kind of stood there for a second (doing an unintentional Dewey impression) until that fruitcake Mrs. Simmons opened her door and beckoned to me. Mr. Suit #2 was watching me carefully, and that sure didn’t seem like a good thing, so I gave her a friendly wave and hustled over. Which, if Mr. Suit #2 knew anything about me at all, was like waving a huge banner that said, “I’m up to something.” Good thing he didn’t know me.
    Mrs. Simmons clutched at my shoulder and pulled me inside as she shut the door. She smelled like menthol and mothballs. Not a good combo.
    “So many fine young men, Jerome! So many!” Mrs. Simmons smoothed her housedress and winked at me. “Are they here to see me?”
    I just barely kept myself from rolling my eyes. Mrs. Simmons is such a fruit loop. I didn’t even bother to correct her on my name. At least she got the first letter right this time. “I think they’re looking for Professor Twitchett, Mrs. Simmons. The scientist? Upstairs?” My mind was going so fast it was hard to keep straight what she was saying. The more I thought about it, the more I realized Mr. Jones and his Suit sidekick didn’t seem like cops, and they didn’t really have a gangster vibe either. I felt my stomach lurch. They were probably a bigger deal, maybe Feds. FBI. Something like that.
    “The scientist Twitchell? Where did he go?” Mrs. Simmons tugged on my arm so hard I thought my shirt would come off. I sighed and tried not to lose my cool, which is not easy when you’re dealing with Mrs. Simmons. I think she did one of those sell-the-house-because-stairs-are-too-hard things old people are always doing, so I shouldn’t blame her for being a total space case. Butsheesh, there aren’t that many people in the building. You’d think she could keep us straight.
    Mrs. Simmons nodded. “What do they want? Who do they work for? Why do they want him? Do you think they’ll come in for tea? I don’t have any shortbread cookies.” She wrung her hands nervously and looked at the door to the hallway.
    I seriously doubted either Mr. Suit would be stopping in to chat with Mrs. Simmons, but I didn’t want to be rude. I put on a thoughtful look and held my backpack farther away to keep it away from her clutchy hands. The last thing I needed was for her grabbiness to start a jackalope bloodbath.
    “They probably won’t have time, Mrs. Simmons. They say the Professor’s inherited some money. They’re from the bank, I guess.” I rolled my shoulder. Mrs. Simmons may be old, but she’s wiry, and I was pretty sure I was going to have a bruise where she’d been clutching me.
    Mrs. Simmons shook her head. “Money. You don’t believe that.” She was watching me like a hawk. If shefigured out that I thought they were Feds, she’d never let me leave. Either that or she’d pass out from excitement. I so didn’t need this.
    I shrugged. “You’re right—it’s probably something about an experiment. I’ve got to go now, okay?”
    Mrs. Simmons nodded. “After you tell me about the experiment.”
    I sighed. “No, I can’t, Mrs. Simmons. I have