Sammy Keyes and the Cold Hard Cash by Draanen Wendelin van

Author:Draanen, Wendelin van [Draanen, Wendelin van]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Mystery, Young Adult, Childrens, Humour, Contemporary
ISBN: 9780375891489
Amazon: 037589148X
Goodreads: 7614728
Publisher: Knopf Books for Young Readers
Published: 2008-10-14T07:00:00+00:00

TWENTY

There was nowhere to duck, nowhere to hide. So I did the same thing I did the night I scared Buck Ritter to death.

I sucked up against the wall.

Only this time I’m in a flowered dress.

Carrying ugly tan shoes.

And I’m in a lighted hallway!

Sure enough, it’s the Jackal who steps out of the elevator. And maybe I should have made a mad dash back to the inside stairs, but for some reason I just stood there like a great big granny splat against the wall, my heart machine-gunning in my chest.

And then the weirdest thing happens.

The Jackal steps out and turns his head a little to the left, then turns right and walks down the hall away from me.

I just stand there, splatted against the wall.

How could he not have seen me?

I mean, old-guy eyes are one thing—this was like he was blind.

Whatever. I tiptoed out of there, keeping one eye on him as he walked in the opposite direction, and when I was safely around the corner, I watched him stop and knock on an apartment door. He knuckled it four times, then two, and a few seconds later the door whooshed open and he disappeared inside.

I waited another minute, then tiptoed over to the apartment the Jackal had gone into.

It was number 427.

Four-two-seven, I told myself. Four knocks, two knocks, lucky number seven.

Now, I’m not about to stand there with my ear to the door or anything. My nerves are totally fried and I just want to get out of there! So before something else happens, I race down the hallway, slip out the fire escape door, and fly down the stairs.

The cool air feels great, and before I’ve even reached my backpack, I’ve got my wig and glasses ripped off. And as soon as I’ve got my backpack out of the bushes and I’m safe and sound in my little hiding place by the Dumpster, I pull on my jeans and tear off my disguise, stuffing it all in CeCe’s plastic shopping bag.

Then I hide the bag in the bushes where my backpack had been and hurry up the stairs. But halfway up I happen to notice my hand.

It’s still covered in spots.

Which means my face is, too!

Holy smokes!

So I flip a U-turn, race back down the stairs, find a spigot, and use one of my socks to scrub my face and hands the best I can and then go up to the fifth floor.

“There you are!” Grams says when I come through the door, and before I can even say I’m sorry for being late, she closes the door and whispers, “Strange things have been going on around here!”

“Really?” I ask, plopping my backpack down like it’s just my same old backpack instead of something that’s got a couple thousand dollars, a digital camera, and some cool new clothes in it.

“Very strange.”

“Like what? Objects moving through space?” I ask all nonchalantly as I head for the bathroom to check myself out in the mirror.

“No!”

“Hang on,” I

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