Luther had run through it.

I ran toward it. I put my hand on the knob.

“Okay, Mickey,” Chief Taylor said, standing side by side with another officer, “that’s far enough.”

They were there. I had my hand on the knob and tried to calculate how long it would take to open the door and run through it. Too long. Taylor and the other officer would be on me.

That was when we all heard the scream.

The two police officers turned toward it.

“Help! Oh, help!”

Suddenly I got it. The scream and call for help had come from Ema, but I could tell, from the exaggerated tone, she wasn’t in real danger.

Genius that she was, Ema was intentionally diverting their attention from me!

I didn’t wait. I pulled open the door and ran through it. I was back in the basement. It was darker now. I heard a crunching noise above me. I used my flashlight app and shone it upward.

I saw Luther’s leg on the top step.

I ran and leapt toward it. I grabbed the ankle and hung on for all I was worth. I was actually suspended in the air, my grip on his ankle loosening, when I felt his other foot stomp on my arm. I didn’t care. I hung on.

“Let go of me!” Luther shouted.

“Where’s my father?”

“He’s dead!”

I didn’t believe him. And I had a plan.

If I could just swing my legs to the stairs, I would have enough leverage to pull Luther down to the concrete basement floor.

“Let go of me!”

“No!”

I pulled and arched my back, aiming my legs for the stairs. Behind me I heard the door open.

“Freeze!”

It was Chief Taylor again.

“He’s getting away!” I shouted.

But Chief Taylor and the other officer wouldn’t listen. They tackled me instead. I tried to hold on, tried with everything I had to keep my grip, but I could feel my fingers slip away under their combined weight.

“He killed my father!”

I crashed to the ground. Above me, I saw Luther smile and slip away.

“Stay put,” Taylor yelled.

“He killed my father! Stop him!”

“What are you talking about?”

But it was pointless. We were belowground. Luther was already off and running. Chief Taylor stood. The other officer flipped me onto my stomach and snapped the cuffs on me.

Ema came through the door. “Leave him alone! He didn’t do anything!”

“You’re both under arrest,” Taylor said.

“For what?”

“A neighbor saw you break into the garage. That’s a crime. You’ve wiggled out of plenty of trouble, Mickey, but not this time.”

“Listen to me,” I said, “you have to find that man.”

“I don’t have to find anyone,” Chief Taylor said. “I told you to stop. You didn’t. You ran away from a police officer. You resisted arrest. I’m sorry, Mickey. You’ve gotten too many breaks.”

Ema tried. “But if you’d just listen to us—”

Chief Taylor spun toward her. “Do you want me to cuff you too, missy?”

“What?”

“Turn around.”

“You’re kidding—”

“Turn around!”

Ema did so. I watched in disbelief as Chief Taylor cuffed her too.

“I don’t want to hear another word out of either of you.”

They led us back down the corridor through the tunnel. Again I saw Taylor looking around as though he couldn’t believe his eyes. “What is this place?” he asked me.

I said nothing.

“I asked you a question, Mickey.”

“I don’t know.”

“So why did you break into the garage?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

I saw his face redden. “That’s it. I’ve had enough of you. I’m taking you down to the city prison in Newark. You’re going to spend some time in that system. Adult population. I told you once about the guy with the really long fingernails, remember? You’re about to be his cellmate. Jackson?”

He turned to the other officer.

“Let’s lock them in the squad car and check out this tunnel.”

It was hard to get us up the ladder because our hands were cuffed behind our backs. Jackson suggested taking them off us. Taylor refused. When we reached the front yard, he said, “You wait with them here. I’m going back into—”

“What’s going on here?”

We all stopped at the sound of the scratchy old voice. There, standing on the sidewalk as though she had just materialized, was Bat Lady. Jackson choked back a scream. Bat Lady was back in her full crazy-person persona—the long white-to-yellow gown, ratty slippers, her white hair flowing down to her waist.

“Ma’am,” Taylor said, risking a step in her direction, “these two broke into your own garage.”

“No, they didn’t.”

“Uh, yes, ma’am, we spotted—”

“Don’t ‘yes, ma’am’ me,” she snapped. “They have permission to be here. I asked them to check my tunnel for me.”

“You did?”

“Of course.”

“Well, about that tunnel—”

“Why are they handcuffed?”

“Well, see, we got a report that they broke in—”

“And I just told you that they did no such thing, didn’t I?”

She waited for an answer.

“Uh, yes, ma’am.”

“So uncuff those children immediately.”

Taylor gestured at Jackson. Jackson took out a key.

“Ma’am, could you tell what those tunnels are for?”

“No.”

“Pardon?”

“Do you have a warrant?”

“A warrant? No. Like I said, we got a report—”

“Has this become a police state? I’ve lived in police states before. They are horrible places.”

“No, ma’am, this isn’t a police state.”

“Then you have no right to be on my property, do you?”

“We were responding to a call.”

“Which was made in error obviously. So now you know that. Do you know what I want you to do now?”

“Um . . .” I was enjoying watching Chief Taylor squirm. “Leave?”

“Exactly. Don’t make me ask again. Shoo.”

Chapter 21

After Chief Taylor’s squad car drove off, Bat Lady started toward the garage. We followed her. I asked her questions. She didn’t respond. Ema asked her questions. She didn’t respond. She just kept walking in silence.