Don't Scream (9780307823526) by Joan Lowery Nixon

them. How do you know that?”
    â€œStands to reason. First one cat gone, then the other. Cats don’t wander off in pairs.”
    â€œMaybe the tuna in the trash hadn’t been thrown out. Maybe it was used to lure Peaches.”
    He leaned forward, his face thrust into mine. “Find him,” he said. “Find the one who done it.”
    â€œFind who?” I asked. “You keep saying
him.
Did you see someone around here, Mr. Chamberlin?”
    He slowly settled back, his eyes dull with fading comprehension.
    â€œWho did you see?” I repeated.
    Mr. Chamberlin suddenly slumped, as though someone had let go of a string that held him up. Tears ran down his face. “Peaches won’t ever come back,” he murmured.
    I jumped to my feet and brought him the box of tissues that sat on the kitchen ledge, but even though I pushed the box right in front of him, Mr. Chamberlin ignored it. He ignored me, too, lost in his own mournful world.
    â€œDid you see Pepper tonight, Mr. Chamberlin?” I asked, but he didn’t answer.
    I tried again. “Did you see anyone around our house—anyone who didn’t belong here?”
    â€œEvil, evil in his eyes. I know evil. I can see it.” He continued to cry.
    Poor old man. I snatched up a handful of tissues and pushed them at him. “Come on, Mr. Chamberlin,” I said. “I’m going to take you home.”
    This time I locked the back door as I left.
    A FTER I WALKED Mr. Chamberlin safely to his own house, I tested his alarm light to make sure it was working, and then I decided to search every inch of the ground between his home and ours. What was I looking for? I didn’t know. Anything out of the ordinary, I guess. But tonight there was no trash and no tuna.
    Where had Pepper gone? What had happened to him?
    The Maliks’ front door opened, and Mark stepped outside. “Jess, is that you?” he called. “What are you doing?”
    â€œI’m looking for Pepper,” I said. “Pepper, my cat.”
    Mark loped down the walk to join me. He glanced in the direction of Mr. Chamberlin’s house, then back to me. “Your cat’s gone, too? What’s going on around here?”
    â€œI don’t know,” I said.
    â€œWere they valuable cats? Would anyone want to steal them?”
    â€œPeaches was a Persian, but she was an old cat, and Pepper was—is—nothing more than an alley cat.”
    â€œDid Pepper like to go wandering?”
    â€œNot often. He’s pretty lazy.”
    â€œHas he ever disappeared before?”
    I sighed. “When he was younger, he got trapped inside someone’s toolshed for a whole day and scared me to death, but during the last few years he’s been content to stick close to home. Mark, I’ve had Pepper since I was eight years old. I don’t know what I’d do without him.”
    Without meaning to, I burst into tears.
    Mark didn’t say anything. He just put his arms around me.
    â€œIt hurts,” I managed to say as my sobs turned to dry shudders.
    â€œOf course it hurts.” Mark gently kissed my forehead, then both eyelids, and I felt as though I were wrapped in a caring, comforting cocoon. Mesmerized, I leaned against him and raised my face for what I thought would be his kiss on my lips, but he said, “I’m going to take you home, Jess. I’ll wait with you until your parents come back, if you want me to.”
    It took a few moments to pull myself back to reality. “I’ll be fine by myself,” I told him. “But thanks for your help. I’m sorry I dumped all my feelings on you.”
    Mark smiled. “Hey, what are neighbors for?”
    I smiled back. “I thought neighbors were different in the Bronx.”
    â€œNeighbors are neighbors everywhere,” Mark said. “I have to admit, though, I’d rather be neighbors with you than with Mr. Chamberlin.”
    â€œI found him