114-The Case of the Counterfeit Criminals by Franklin W. Dixon

Author:Franklin W. Dixon [Dixon, Franklin W.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2011-08-07T15:13:44+00:00

Frank finished reading another of the complaint letters that Karla had copied for him. He shifted it from the top to the bottom of the stack. It was just as he had thought when he studied the computerized sales records. Practically all of the serious complaints were from towns in the Bayport area. There were a few letters from other parts of the country, but they were about shoes that didn't perform as well as expected, not about shoes that fell apart.

Frank had parked the van in the lot of a pottery discount store, just across the road from the Wombat Factory Outlet. Frank looked up at the storefront, then checked his watch. Five minutes to four. If he remembered right, Devin got off work at four. Ten more minutes.

Frank looked down at the next letter and chuckled. A kid in Nebraska had a complaint. Right after he bought a pair of Wombat Champions, his basketball team lost the all-county championship. He wanted to know how the company had the nerve to call their basketball shoes Champions.

When Frank glanced up again, a kid with black hair, jeans, and a motorcycle jacket was coming out the door of the outlet store. Frank recognized Devin at once. The young stock clerk walked over to a battered old sedan and climbed in. Frank turned his ignition key and started the van's engine. He let Devin get a half-block lead, then pulled out after him.

Devin led Frank across the railroad tracks to a section of Holman Heights called the Valley. He turned onto a street lined with old three-story apartment houses. The buildings had outside staircases and open porches at each floor. A few of them were freshly painted, but the rest were run-down.

Halfway down the block Devin pulled up to the curb and got out. He walked across to one of the houses and mounted the stairs to the third floor. Frank waited a few minutes to give him time to go inside. Then he got out of the van, went over to the house, and read the names on the mailboxes.

The third-floor apartment was occupied by Ms. Donna Newhouse-Porter.

Frank stared at the name. Newhouse-Porter? He had been wondering why Karla Newhouse had been telephoning Devin Porter. Now he knew. Unless this was a bizarre coincidence, which he didn't believe for a moment, they were related!

The question was: Were they only relatives, or were they also partners in crime?

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