to see Danny, but instead, Hunter Grayson, Libby Loper’s dead butler, sat there examining his manicure.
"My, my. What a tacky car. When was the last time you sanitized back here?" he asked, pursing his lips and cocking his head sideways.
"So I must be dreaming again."
"What do you think?" His British accent, dripping with disapproval, put me in my place. I chose to ignore his condescending tone.
"What are you doing here?"
"You Americans. Always in such a hurry. Why do you suppose we’re all being dragged out from The Great Beyond? Really, dearie, you may have solved my murder—and by the way, thank you for using your Yankee ingenuity on that—but still there does seem to be a recurring theme here."
"So do you have a message for me?" I knew these little meetings were brief, so there was no time for idle chit-chat.
"Did you enjoy going through all my treasures? Stupid Libby had no idea I was financing my dreams one gold card at a time."
"Your extensive vase collection struck me as a bit odd."
"I knew you were incapable of appreciating my fascination for them. They're so precious and breakable, but they're beautiful. I guess that's why I liked them so much. Once broken, a thing of beauty is gone forever. Crack. Your dream has vanished." He laughed at his own joke, although the humor was lost on me. His laughter changed into a knocking sound.
"Betsy? Is that you in there?" My father was tapping on the window. Maggie and Danny both jolted upright from their sleeping positions. I unrolled the window.
"Hey, Dad."
"Hi Uncle Judd," Danny chimed from the back seat.
"Hi Danny. And what are we all doing here tonight?" He directed his question toward Danny because he knew Danny would give his uncle a better answer than I would.
"I'm Batman. We are searching for bad guys."
"You are? Well that's just wonderful. See anything?"
Danny kept talking. "Yeah. I brought my bat signal just in case I had to signal you." He pulled out a little flashlight and turned it on. The light streamed through a bat cutout, projecting the image of a bat on my glove compartment.
"Impressive. We need one of those things down at the department."
Judd leaned on the door. "So are you three going to tell me what you’re really doing, or should I arrest you for loitering?"
"It was Betsy's idea," Maggie said.
"Okay," I conceded, "I’ll tell you why we're here. I think the chicken on the roof of Bird…" Before I could get the sentence out of my mouth, I realized the soup-can chicken was gone. It had been swiped while we were sleeping.
"Oh my," Aunt Maggie said, holding her head as if she were getting a headache.
"The chicken!" Danny said. "The bad guy stole the chicken!" My father turned around and looked toward the roof of Birdie’s Diner.
"Looks like it, and you guys slept through it all. I guess we got ourselves another crime scene."
My dad walked over to his car radio. I knew he was calling Birdie to tell her she was another victim of our thief.
He returned with a flashlight. "I'm just going to search the back alley. You stay here."
"Why wouldn’t I?" I said, batting my eyelashes.
"Smart ass." He walked off behind the diner.
I pulled myself out of the car.
"Danny can I use your Bat Signal?" I asked.
"Sure. Are you going to get the bad guy with my bat signal?"
"I’m going to try."
I turned on the flashlight, and the illuminated bat bounced on the side of the building as I walked. I could see a couple of spots of ripped roof shingle where I guessed that a ladder had been resting up against it. I noticed a tear in the awning on the front of the diner. Also from a ladder, was my guess.
I considered standing on the air conditioning unit to get a better look at the crime scene, but with Maggie watching, I thought better of it. I caught a whiff of the lingering odor of paint, triggering memories of art class in high school. I touched the wall to see if it was freshly painted, but my hand slid over a smooth dry surface.
"Betsy you
"My, my. What a tacky car. When was the last time you sanitized back here?" he asked, pursing his lips and cocking his head sideways.
"So I must be dreaming again."
"What do you think?" His British accent, dripping with disapproval, put me in my place. I chose to ignore his condescending tone.
"What are you doing here?"
"You Americans. Always in such a hurry. Why do you suppose we’re all being dragged out from The Great Beyond? Really, dearie, you may have solved my murder—and by the way, thank you for using your Yankee ingenuity on that—but still there does seem to be a recurring theme here."
"So do you have a message for me?" I knew these little meetings were brief, so there was no time for idle chit-chat.
"Did you enjoy going through all my treasures? Stupid Libby had no idea I was financing my dreams one gold card at a time."
"Your extensive vase collection struck me as a bit odd."
"I knew you were incapable of appreciating my fascination for them. They're so precious and breakable, but they're beautiful. I guess that's why I liked them so much. Once broken, a thing of beauty is gone forever. Crack. Your dream has vanished." He laughed at his own joke, although the humor was lost on me. His laughter changed into a knocking sound.
"Betsy? Is that you in there?" My father was tapping on the window. Maggie and Danny both jolted upright from their sleeping positions. I unrolled the window.
"Hey, Dad."
"Hi Uncle Judd," Danny chimed from the back seat.
"Hi Danny. And what are we all doing here tonight?" He directed his question toward Danny because he knew Danny would give his uncle a better answer than I would.
"I'm Batman. We are searching for bad guys."
"You are? Well that's just wonderful. See anything?"
Danny kept talking. "Yeah. I brought my bat signal just in case I had to signal you." He pulled out a little flashlight and turned it on. The light streamed through a bat cutout, projecting the image of a bat on my glove compartment.
"Impressive. We need one of those things down at the department."
Judd leaned on the door. "So are you three going to tell me what you’re really doing, or should I arrest you for loitering?"
"It was Betsy's idea," Maggie said.
"Okay," I conceded, "I’ll tell you why we're here. I think the chicken on the roof of Bird…" Before I could get the sentence out of my mouth, I realized the soup-can chicken was gone. It had been swiped while we were sleeping.
"Oh my," Aunt Maggie said, holding her head as if she were getting a headache.
"The chicken!" Danny said. "The bad guy stole the chicken!" My father turned around and looked toward the roof of Birdie’s Diner.
"Looks like it, and you guys slept through it all. I guess we got ourselves another crime scene."
My dad walked over to his car radio. I knew he was calling Birdie to tell her she was another victim of our thief.
He returned with a flashlight. "I'm just going to search the back alley. You stay here."
"Why wouldn’t I?" I said, batting my eyelashes.
"Smart ass." He walked off behind the diner.
I pulled myself out of the car.
"Danny can I use your Bat Signal?" I asked.
"Sure. Are you going to get the bad guy with my bat signal?"
"I’m going to try."
I turned on the flashlight, and the illuminated bat bounced on the side of the building as I walked. I could see a couple of spots of ripped roof shingle where I guessed that a ladder had been resting up against it. I noticed a tear in the awning on the front of the diner. Also from a ladder, was my guess.
I considered standing on the air conditioning unit to get a better look at the crime scene, but with Maggie watching, I thought better of it. I caught a whiff of the lingering odor of paint, triggering memories of art class in high school. I touched the wall to see if it was freshly painted, but my hand slid over a smooth dry surface.
"Betsy you
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