be?
"Okay," she said. "I'm not breaking and entering, but I'll look in the window. That's all."
Nina nodded in approval. "How hard can it be?" she said, echoing what Gretchen was thinking. Her aunt was starting to scare her. Maybe there really was something to all her quirky psychic beliefs. No. Impossible. Gretchen opened the car door, eased it closed, and trotted across the street. She had forgotten about Phoenix's passion for privacy walls. No one in the enormous desert community wanted snoopy neighbors spying on them, so they built walls to keep them out. Walls also kept snakes and wild animals from appearing on doorsteps.
Bernard's property wasn't any different than that of the rest of the populace. His privacy wall was made of concrete. Gretchen trotted back to the Impala. "I can't get over the wall. You'll have to give me a boost."
Nina rolled her eyes in mock exasperation. "The things I have to do in the name of family and friendship."
"How am I going to get out once I'm in?"
"There must be a gate on the other side," Nina said.
"Every backyard has a gate."
They crept along the outside of the wall. Gretchen stuck a foot in Nina's cupped hands, scaled up the side of the wall, and peered over the top. The coast was clear. She swung a leg up, scooted on her belly, and carefully edged the other leg over. She dropped to the ground on the other side. The backyard looked like a lumber yard, only not as tidy. Piles of wood and cast-off remnants of lumber were scattered along the side of the wall where Gretchen crouched. Near the house, she saw a small wrought-iron table and four chairs. A vase filled with mixed flowers was in the middle of the table.
Gretchen mustered up her courage and strode boldly to a window on the right side of the table. She peered inside, shading her eyes with her hand for a better view. And came nose to nose with an old woman on the other side of the glass. The woman had a face like a Cabbage Patch Kid.
Gretchen stifled a startled yelp.
The woman, however, let out a bone-chilling scream. It sounded more like a war cry than a fearful reaction. The vase of flowers on the outdoor table should have clued Gretchen in. How careless could she be? Bernard Waites, the cranky thief, had a wife.
Since Gretchen was already in position, she took a moment to look past the woman and get a good look at the kitchen. She strained to make out the kitchen walls. The woman on the other side of the glass got Gretchen's total attention when she waved something above her head. It looked like a meat cleaver. Looking solidly determined, the woman marched for the back door.
Gretchen quickly revamped her hastily laid plan to present herself at the back door and apologize. She broke for the wall, realizing halfway there that she couldn't get over without Nina's help.
There must be another way out. She turned in a circle looking for an exit. Where was the gate? There wasn't one. It was either over the wall or through the house.
"I'll just let myself out," Gretchen called, whirling to face her adversary. "I didn't mean to scare you."
Bernard's wife snorted like a bull. "I belong to the neighborhood watch," she said, stalking toward Gretchen with the cleaver clenched in her fist. "The rest of the committee will be here any second, and we'll take care of you. Yes, we'll take care of you but good."
Gretchen saw that she meant it. Bernard's wife might not be Gretchen's physical match, but she had a look in her eyes that put the fear of death into Gretchen. The woman waved the cleaver with menace.
"We're coming as fast as we can." Someone shouted from a nearby house.
Would Gretchen be hacked to death by a gang of blockwatchers? She eyed up one of the tallest woodpiles. If she could get a running start, she might make it. Bernard's wife marched at her, raising the cleaver. Gretchen took off as fast as she could and ran up the pile. A loose board underfoot almost tripped her up, but she maintained her balance and hurtled at the wall, digging her fingers into the top of it. Raising herself up through sheer desperation and fear, she launched over the wall to freedom. Gretchen ran in a crouch to the side of the house, staying behind the straggly Arizona shrubbery. Two women