The Trap Read Online Free Page A

running, and they had already made it clear that their work was too important to be interrupted—much more important than anything
I
had planned.
    There
was
someone I could talk this over with—my best friend, Robin. She’d be perfect. Sometimes I teased her for being such an ardent fan of mystery novels. Maybe Robin would know if what I had found meant anything. Maybe she’d know what I should do next.
    When I returned to the house, I stopped off at the kitchen and took a soft drink out of the refrigerator. I glanced around the room, which was pale yellow and white, cheerful and efficient, with new-looking appliances. It had very little clutter, except for a scattering of ceramic hens and roosters on the windowsill and what looked like a kid’s bank. It was a small ceramic two-story building with DIME BOX painted across the roof. In the center of the kitchen table stood a brightly wovenbasket filled with fruit. I touched a shiny apple, and it was real. Good. If Glenda didn’t mind, I’d enjoy eating some of her centerpiece.
    I carried my laptop into Gabe’s wood-paneled study. The walls lent their deep brown tones to the brown patterned drapes and thick brown carpeting. The desk and chairs were also brown, and I began to get the crazy feeling that I was being sucked into a dark old tree trunk. Quickly, I plugged in my laptop and the screen lit up. I went into my ISP.
    “You’ve got mail,” a friendly voice announced, but before clicking on the mailbox icon, I saw Robin’s name on my buddy list. She was already online, so I ignored my mail and sent her an instant message.
    Jul59: Hi, Robin. Got a minute?
    Robinor: Hi yourself. Just a few minutes. Swim-team practice, you know. Tell me, what’s the ranch like? Meet any good-looking cowboys?
    Jul59: No cowboys, but there’s a kind of mystery. You’re the mystery expert. Want to help?
    Robinor: K. Tell me about it.
    Jul59: K. Here goes. I’ll just give important points. Uncle Gabe fell down a flight of outside stairs. He said something tripped him. Aunt Glenda said it didn’t. He asked me to look. I did and found two nail holes near the top step. I believe a string could have been tied between them and taken away later. I suspect that it was. Am I crazy? What do I do?
    Robinor: You haven’t even been there 24 hours and wow! Action! K. Who has access to the stairs?
    Jul59: I don’t know. Anybody. They’re outside.
    Robinor: Did you find the string?
    Jul59: No. And I looked all around and under the stairs. Nothing.
    Robinor: You are not crazy as far as I know! Look for WHO and WHY. There has to be a reason. You know, a motive. Every crime has a motive. Do you suspect anyone?
    Jul59: No. I don’t even know many people here yet.
    Robinor: Talk to your great-uncle. Try to find out if anyone has something against him.
    Jul59: It might be hard to come right out and ask him. He has high blood pressure, and Glenda doesn’t want him to get excited.
    Robinor: When he gets home from the hospital, can he get up the stairs to see the nail holes for himself?
    Jul59: No. He has a broken ankle.
    Robinor: You make it tough, girl. I gotta go now. POS. Give me time to think about this. In the meantime, if you can’t question your uncle, then look for other people who might answer your questions. K?
    Jul59: K. Thanks, Robin.
    In a way, there was a parent over my shoulder, too—Mom. I knew there’d be a letter from her, so I clicked on the e-mail icon. Just as I did, a hand touched my shoulder. I let out a yell and leaped out of my chair.
    Glenda stared at me in surprise. “I’m sorry I startled you,” she said. “I thought you heard me come into the room.”
    “I didn’t,” I answered. My face turned red as I wonderedif she’d been reading over my shoulder. “When did you come in?”
    “Just this minute,” she said. “I couldn’t sleep. Too much sherry does that to me.” She held out her car keys in my direction. “If you don’t mind, I think we should go visit