Read Baby-Sitting Is a Dangerous Job Online

Authors: Willo Davis Roberts

Baby-Sitting Is a Dangerous Job (16 page)

After that it got sort of hokey. When we got to town—Jeremy had a terrible time choosing whether to ride in the police cruiser or the fire truck, and finally decided on the cruiser with
the rest of us after they told him they couldn't run the siren on the fire truck—everybody'd been crying or started crying all over again, except the Foster kids and me.

“Darcy—” a familiar voice said, and I turned to see Mrs. Murphy extending a hand to touch my shoulder. “My dear child, I'm so glad you're safe. All of you. I was so shocked when I learned that they used my car and my door opener to get into the garage—though it did provide a clue to your whereabouts, I suppose. It was found in a gravel pit, and the police thought whoever had driven it there had left on foot. So they were watching that area while Mr. Foster went to meet the kidnappers with the ransom money, and then they saw your signal. How clever you were, to think of signaling that way.”

I felt sort of peculiar. She seemed very nice, but I didn't like the way she'd taken care of the Foster kids. My mom was right, they needed more love and attention than they'd gotten from her while their parents were working. I didn't know what to say to her; and I didn't know if I should discuss it with Mrs./Dr. Foster,
either. Mostly my mom taught me to mind my own business, but some things can really get to be a mess if nobody gets involved in matters beyond their own immediate business.

Mrs. Murphy took her hand off my shoulder, smiling rather awkwardly. “I'm afraid I'm getting too old to be in charge of young children,” she said. “I've given the Fosters my notice, as soon as they can find another housekeeper.”

I didn't tell her I was glad, of course, but I was. I hoped the next housekeeper would be better for the kids. “I got to like them, quite a lot,” I told her, and to my surprise, I meant it.

Mrs./Dr. Foster overheard that. Though her eyes were puffy from crying, she was smiling. “It sounds as if they've become rather fond of you, too. How'd you like a job for the rest of the summer, spending days with them when their father and I can't be at home? Just keeping them entertained?”

I drew in a deep breath. Such a short time ago I'd thought I'd be glad to be done with baby-sitting the Foster kids.

“They need someone they like,” Mrs./Dr. Foster
said. “Someone who really cares about them. We'll give you a raise, of course. And a reward, for the way you took care of them during this kidnapping business.”

I swallowed and stuck my neck out, the way Tim's always telling me not to do. “Sure. I guess I could do that. Only I have some sort of strong feelings about them—that they need more attention from their parents, as well as from a sitter.”

My heart was beating hard, because it really wasn't any of my business, and maybe she'd take back the offer of a job.

Mrs./Dr. Foster didn't cut me down, though, the way I sort of expected her to do. Instead, she smiled.

“We'll have to discuss that, won't we? I had a lot of time to think, while the children were missing. And I realized that we weren't spending enough time with them, either one of us. You will come tomorrow, won't you, and we'll talk about it?”

“All right,” I agreed.

And then Shana tugged at my fingers. “I hafta go potty,” she said, as she'd said so many times before.

When Mrs./Dr. Foster laughed, there were tears in her eyes.

“I guess you're hired, then, Darcy,” she told me. “I'll take you to the bathroom, Shana.”

“Come on, let's go home,” my dad said, wrapping an arm around my shoulders. “I called your mother and told her you were safe, but she probably won't believe it until she sees you.”

So we went out and got in our car and went home.

“Somebody'll have to take care of the dogs, until Okie comes home from the hospital,” I told my dad. “Maybe I ought to be the one to do it. They'll let me feed them now.”

“Good,” Dad said. “You can get Tim to run you out there every day. I'm surprised you were able to make friends with a pair of guard dogs.”

“I think they were Okie's pets as much as guard dogs,” I said. “They'd gotten used to his granddaughter; and the kidnappers didn't like them, so the dogs never got friendly with
them
.”

I couldn't wait to tell Irene all about it. I'd finally had an experience that Irene hadn't had, and neither had anybody else we knew. Not that I'd ever want to go through anything
like that again, but now that it was all over I was beginning to see what a good story it would make to tell my friends.

My mom cried when we walked in the door, the way I knew she would. She hugged me and asked if I was hungry; and I decided I was. I had a peanut butter sandwich and a glass of milk, and for once Mom broke her rule about no sweets between meals and let me have a piece of carrot cake, too.

While I ate, I called Irene, even though it was so late.

She'd heard the news on a TV bulletin, and she sounded awed. “What was it like, Darce? Did they hurt you?”

“No, we're all okay.” I lowered my voice. “What's happened to Diana? Is she still in the tree house?”

“No. She came down after your mother found out she was there.” Irene hesitated, then confessed, “I had to tell her. I mean, I asked Diana first, and she said I could. Your mom called somebody from the Child Protective Services, and they said there'll be a hearing Monday, to see if Diana has to go home or not.
They talked to her aunt in California, and it sounded as if maybe they'd send Diana there if there's evidence her father's been abusing her. Boy, after this, I guess that's all the evidence they need! Though he may not be around,” she added. “So maybe she can just stay with her mother.”

“Her dad's gone to the hospital to have his leg stitched up, and her brothers are both there, too, with about a million wasp stings,” I told her. “I think Mr. Hazen heard her sister Ellen talking about the Fosters and their house after she baby-sat for them, and he thought it would be a good way to get some money without working for it.”

“Yeah. Poor Diana.”

I swallowed some milk and agreed. “It would be tough to know your father's a kidnapper. He won't be abusing her anymore, though. They'll put him in jail as soon as they fix up his leg. Clancy said it'll be for years, if Jeremy and I testify before the court the same way we told it all to him.”

I guessed it would probably take all night to tell her everything about the kidnapping,
and I had to report to work at the Fosters' in the morning.

Still, when would I ever have this kind of news to relay again? Never, I hoped, so I might as well make the most of it now.

It was way, way past my usual bedtime, and I thought my mom would say so; but she just squeezed my shoulder as she went past, smiling at me, with never a word about the time.

“Tell me every detail,” Irene breathed.

“Just let me get another piece of cake first,” I agreed, and made myself comfortable for a good long talk.

W
ILLO
D
AVIS
R
OBERTS

wrote many mystery and suspense novels for children during her long and illustrious career, including
The Girl with the Silver Eyes, The View from the Cherry Tree, Twisted Summer, Megan's Island, Baby-Sitting Is a Dangerous Job, Hostage, Scared Stiff,
and
The Kidnappers
. Three of her children's books won Edgar
®
Awards, while others received great reviews and accolades, including the Sunshine State Young Reader Award, the California Young Reader Medal, and the Georgia Children's Book Award.

Aladdin

Simon & Schuster, New York

Visit us at

simonandschuster.com/kids

authors.simonandschuster.com/Willo-Davis-Roberts

DON'T MISS THESE OTHER WILLO DAVIS ROBERTS MYSTERIES:

Surviving Summer Vacation

The View from the Cherry Tree

Megan's Island

The Kidnappers

Hostage

Scared Stiff

The Pet-Sitting Peril

What Could Go Wrong?

Secrets at Hidden Valley

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This book is a work of fiction. Any references to historical events, real people, or real places are used fictitiously. Other names, characters, places, and events are products of the author's imagination, and any resemblance to actual events or places or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

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This Aladdin hardcover edition April 2016

Text copyright © 1985 by Willo Davis Roberts

Jacket illustration copyright © 2016 by Jessica Handelman

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Jacket designed by Jessica Handelman

Interior designed by Mike Rosamilia

The text of this book was set in New Century Schoolbook.

Library of Congress Control Number 2015957566

ISBN 978-1-4814-3705-9 (hc)

ISBN 978-1-4814-3704-2 (pbk)

ISBN 978-1-4814-3706-6 (eBook)

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