Dead Letter by Betsy Byars Page B

dog?”
    â€œAttack dog.”
    â€œOh, Mom, Dad, I have so much to tell you.” She broke away from her mother’s embrace to hug her dad. “Dad, Roger Cole did it.”
    â€œWhat?”
    â€œKilled Amanda Cole. And when he knew I knew, he locked me in with the Doberman. They were coming back later to kill me, if the Doberman didn’t do it for them. These guys saved my life.”
    â€œSlow down,” her father said.
    â€œWell, remember I found that letter in the lining of Amanda Cole’s coat?”
    â€œWell,” Cobby interrupted, realizing it was going to be a long story, “hon, if you’re taken care of, me and Sam will be on our way.” He turned to Herculeah’s father. “If you need us, we’ll be here tomorrow, on the job—just ask for Sam and Cobby.”
    â€œFrom what little Herculeah’s said, I understand you helped her, and I’d like to thank you.”
    â€œOur pleasure. She’s quite a gal.”
    â€œI’ll check with you tomorrow.”
    Meat joined the scene just as Herculeah turned to Sam and Cobby. And then she said something Meat would remember for the rest of his life.
    â€œYou men were just wonderful.” Her gray eyes, shining now with tears, turned to include him. “All three of you.”

27
    DOUBLE DUTY
    â€œMeat,” Herculeah said, “do you think that somewhere in the world there is someone exactly like you?”
    â€œOh, I hope not,” Meat said without thinking, “for their sake.” Then he added quickly, “I mean, one of me is enough.”
    Herculeah was talking on the phone to Meat. “Now don’t talk long. Your father’s going to call,” her mother had said.
    â€œI’ll hang up as soon as I hear a beep.”
    Herculeah continued. “Well, Meat, the reason I was asking is because I felt such a kinship with Amanda Cole. It wasn’t just that she was my size. It was—oh, I can’t explain it. If you haven’t had the feeling—and you obviously haven‘t—well...”
    â€œDo you think your dad’s going to nail Roger Cole and the watchman?” Meat said, abruptly changing the subject, because he wasn’t enjoying the one they had.
    â€œYes.”
    â€œBut I remember that your father said it was sort of a policeman’s belief that if he didn’t nail his killer inside of a week, his chances of ever getting him were divided by half for every week that passed—something mathematical like that—and this has been years!”
    â€œMy dad also believes that no murderer ever left the scene of the crime without leaving some physical evidence behind him. If it’s there, my dad’ll find it. Didn’t you see the expression on his face?”
    â€œHe didn’t have any expression.”
    â€œThat’s the whole point. Meat, that’s when my dad’s really dangerous. His face gets like a mask. It’s almost scary. It got like that when he found out I’d been shut up with the Doberman, and I knew then that he’d nail those two men somehow.
    â€œIf nothing else, he can get them on what they did to me—aggravated assault and intent to commit bodily harm. But that’s not good enough. I want him to get them for murdering Amanda Cole. I promised.”
    â€œYou couldn’t really promise. She’s dead.”
    â€œA promise to a dead person is more binding than any other. Oh, and I have to tell you about my mom. She made me start from the beginning. I told about finding the note and the key, and she exploded. ‘Not another key! Haven’t you learned your lesson about keys? You find a key, you find a body. First it was Dead Oaks. Then Madame Rosa ...’ There’s no reasoning with her when she gets like this. I said, ‘Mom, the key is useless. The lock is gone.’ But I had to go upstairs, get the key, come back, and—”
    There was a beep