“I was. But those clouds! It will just take a minute.”
They all got out, and Mrs. Holmes leaned against the fence that ran along the road, taking picture after picture. “Let’s wait a few minutes and see if they change their shape,” she said. “It’s so peaceful here.”
“Can I take one?” Xander asked. His mom handed him the camera, and he pointed it toward the sky, keeping some of the dark trees in the foreground for contrast. Cool, he thought, and moved a few steps away to get a different angle.
Xena hopped over the waist-high fence—it was easy since the track coach at school had been training her on hurdles—and started looking at the ground. “Coming, Xander?” He shook his head. “Mom and Dad are right here,” she reminded him. “We won’t go far.”
“I’m taking pictures.”
“Oh, all right.” As she moved away from him, she muttered just loud enough for him to hear, “What a baby.”
Xena soon found herself getting farther and farther away from her family. She could still see the car and hear her parents’ voices. But the woods were thicker than they looked from the road, and it was dark in there. It would be a good place for something to hide. Even something big could stay out of sight here. Something big, with sharp claws and enough strength to break a fence. Xena started at a sound, but it was just a squirrel scrambling up a tree.
She was about to turn back when something caught her eye. One of the tree’s branches was broken. The break was above her head. Xena was already almost as tall as her mom, so whoever—or whatever—had hit the branch with enough force to snap it must have been as tall as a man. Maybe it was a man, she told herself.
She inspected the break. It looked pretty new; the splinters along the edge were still sharp and hadn’t been worn down by exposure to wind and rain. And there, just past it, was another broken branch.
She glanced down and saw something else. She squatted. Was that a footprint? It was about the right length but broader than a footprint should be, and were those toe-marks or just depressions in the dirt? It was too dark in the thick trees to be sure.
Xena stood up. “Xander!” she called. “Could you come here?”
A few moments later he pushed through the trees. “Are you sure you want a baby with you?”
“Sorry,” Xena said. “I didn’t mean—sorry.”
“Anyway, what do you want?” He glanced back toward the road. It had been hard for him to go into the woods, but he’d proved his point to Xena. Now he’d do whatever it was she wanted and get back to the car before the sun set any further.
Xena pointed at the ground, and Xander bent over, his hands on his knees. “Hmm.” He pulled the shiny camera out of his pocket.
“Great idea!” She reached for it. The camera’s flash would illuminate the footprint, or whatever it was.
“No way. I thought of it.”
“Well, I found the footprint,” she said, but she cared more about getting the picture than about being the one to take it, so she moved to the side.
Xander snapped the picture, the white flash lighting up the scene. He took two more for good measure.
“Xena!” It was their dad. “Xander!”
“Coming!” they called together and headed back to the car. Then Xander pulled up short and Xena nearly ran into him.
“Watch out!” she said, but he just pointed at the fence.
“Look.” One whole section was fresh new wood, and sawdust lay under it. “Someone recently repaired it. This must be where it was broken!”
“Duh,” Xena said. “Let’s—”
“Come on!” Their father sounded impatient, so Xander snapped a quick shot of the fence, and they ran back to the car.
“Did you get your picture?” their mom said as their dad pulled back onto the road.
“Just a sec.” Xena pressed the buttons to show the last pictures taken. She nudged Xander. “Take a look at this!” she whispered.
“I can’t. I’ll get sick.”
“Oh, right.”
“Well, what is it?” he asked impatiently as she stared at the camera in silence.
“It’s the footprint.” Her hushed voice was high with excitement. “A huge footprint, and it has only four toes—just like the one in the casebook!”
Xander’s voice cracked as he said, “Then … then the Beast is real.”
Xena nodded. All she felt was excitement, but in Xander excitement mingled with fear until he felt like he was going to throw up.
CHAPTER 9
Their mother reached back her hand for the camera. “I want to see how those cloud pictures came out.”
“Just one more second, Mom,” Xena pleaded. She clicked the button back a frame and saw that this picture was even clearer. There was no doubt about it: a big flat-footed footprint with a missing toe. There was also a shot of the repaired fence. She passed the camera forward.
“Any good ones?” their dad asked, and while their parents discussed the photos, Xena and Xander leaned in toward each other to talk about what they had found.
“The footprint looked just the same as the one Sherlock drew in the notebook,” Xena said. “And the branch above it was broken, really high up, like by something tall.”
Xander shut his eyes, picturing the eerie creature Sherlock had drawn and imagining it tall enough to break that high branch. “It’s the Beast,” he said. “It’s got to be.”
“Well, it was something big,” Xena conceded.
He swallowed hard, fighting back his fear. He was Sherlock Holmes’s descendant, and he wanted to solve this case. He couldn’t give up now. Maybe he just needed a little of Xena’s skeptical approach. “Okay,” he said, sounding calmer than he felt. “All we know for sure is that something big is out there. Now we have to come up with our next step.”
They fell into silence for the rest of the ride, trying to think what they should do next.
There was a lot of interesting material in the library, Xander thought. We should definitely go back there.
I can’t wait to get out in the woods again and see what else we can find! ran through Xena’s mind.
As they pulled up at the B and B, Mrs. Roberts came out and stood in the doorway, wiping her hands on her apron. “Just in time for supper! Would you like to join us?”
“That’s very nice of you,” their mother said. “We’re all hungry.”
Again, Mrs. Roberts had made sandwiches. “Out in the country we stick to the old-fashioned ways. Our big meal is at midday, and we have our tea in the late afternoon. So it’s just sandwiches since nobody’s very hungry at supper-time as a rule.”
They sat down and dug in. Mr. and Mrs. Roberts kept glancing at the door and then at the clock on the wall.
At home, the sandwiches would have been peanut butter and jelly or maybe tuna fish. Here, there were all sorts of interesting new things to try: egg and olive, cucumber slices with lots of butter on brown bread, and a tender green leaf that Mr. Roberts called watercress. They sampled each of them. Xander wasn’t crazy about the egg and olive, but the others were really good. Xena ate some of everything.
“These are delicious,” their mother said.
Mrs. Roberts blushed. “Cooking’s in my blood, I think,” she said modestly.
The back door opened and then banged shut, and Mrs. Roberts looked up with her lips pressed together. Is she angry at something? Xena wondered.
Trevor came into the room. “Sorry I’m late,” he mumbled as he pulled a chair up to the table.
“Young man,” Mr. Roberts said. “You know the rules. Home before dark.”
“The sun’s just setting now!” Trevor protested.
This seemed a little odd to Xena. Blackslope was such a peaceful little town. Why would a boy Xander’s age have to be home so early? Were the Robertses overprotective grandparents? Or could they be anxious because they knew that the Beast was around?
Trevor ate sandwich after sandwich with his head down, and in just a few minutes he pushed bac
k from the table. “May I go spend the night at Ian’s house?”
“Of course not,” his grandmother answered.
“You know the rules,” Mr. Roberts said again.
“I have the rental car right outside,” Mr. Holmes broke in. “I’d be happy to drive Trevor to his friend’s house.”
Trevor brightened and said, “Thanks!” but Mrs. Roberts said, “You’re too kind, but Trevor has to stay in tonight.” Trevor scowled and stomped out of the room.
“I’m so sorry,” Mrs. Roberts said, and their mother said, “Oh, we know how it is with kids! Why don’t you two go relax? We’ll clean up.”
“I bet Trevor’s being grounded for something,” Xander said after the kitchen had been tidied up. He and Xena were in the sitting room, playing a card game and waiting for their chance to get to work on the case.
“Probably,” Xena said. This was the most likely explanation for the Robertses’ behavior, but she wasn’t convinced. They had seemed more worried than angry.
Their mom poked her head into the sitting room. “We’re going up to bed. You kids ran us ragged today! Don’t be too late, okay?”
“Okay,” said Xander.
Xena called out, “Good night.”
When their parents were safely upstairs Xander said, “Finally! Now we can put all our evidence together.” He pulled a tuft of woolly material from his pocket.
“Whoa!” Xena snatched it up. “Where did you get that from? And why didn’t you show me until now?”
“Some fell off the table when that guy in the library picked it up.” Xander was smug. “I grabbed it. And it’s not like we had a chance to examine it in private until now!” Actually, he had been hoping for an impressed reaction if he kept his find a surprise, and it had worked.
Xena was examining the fluffy material, her head tilted to one side. Something was odd about it. But what? Then it hit her. “Check this out, Xander. When blood dries, it turns brown. The blood on this wool is still bright red, even though it was found this morning.”
“You mean … ?” Xander looked at her with raised eyebrows.
“Maybe it isn’t really blood. If it was real, wouldn’t it have turned brown by now?”
“How do you know sheep blood acts the same as human blood? Maybe sheep blood doesn’t turn brown,” Xander pointed out.
A noise behind them made them look up. Xander caught sight of Trevor peering into the room. “’Night,” he mumbled when Xander smiled at him. He headed up the stairs.
“How come everyone in this town goes to bed so early?” Xander wanted to know. “Even the kids on a school holiday week?”
But there was nothing else to do, so they went upstairs too. It took Xena a long time to fall asleep. Every time she started to doze off, some creak or crackle in the house would zing through her and wake her up. And when she finally did fall into a restless sleep, she was awakened by the sound of footsteps. She flopped over and pulled the pillow over her head.
Then she pulled it off and sat up. Now that she was more awake and thought about it, she realized something.
The footsteps were coming from outside.
She went to her window and pulled the curtain aside. Almost immediately she jumped back again. It was still dark, but there was no mistaking what she’d seen. A huge shaggy figure stood directly under her window, hunched over, enormous paws pushing aside the shrubbery.
Without stopping to think, Xena tore through the hall and down the stairs. She threw the door open and looked out.
Nothing. Disappointment nearly choked her.
Then something brushed against her arm.
CHAPTER 10
“Yee-OW!” Xena yelled, and she leaped a foot in the air.
“Chill!” It was Xander. “It’s only me. Sorry I scared you,” he added hastily as she glowered at him. “I just wanted to get your attention without making any noise. But you blew it.”
“Well, how was I to know it was you?” Xena’s heart was pounding so hard it made her teeth click. “And you didn’t scare me—you startled me. There’s a difference.” She waited for her heart to stop thumping, then asked, “Why did you come down here? Did you see something?”
“I heard something,” Xander said. “It sounded like someone was walking around outside.”
“I heard it too,” she said, and told him what she’d seen.
Xander looked out at the inky blackness. Without streetlights, hardly anything was visible. And he couldn’t imagine that anything—human or animal—would stick around after Xena’s scream.
Xena sighed. “Let’s look for footprints as soon as it’s light tomorrow morning.”
They went back inside, Xena reluctantly, Xander glad that she wasn’t going to pressure him into investigating a wild beast in the dark. But before they reached the stairs a light snapped on. They froze. Busted!
“Uh-oh,” Xena said.
Mr. and Mrs. Roberts were standing on the landing halfway down the stairway, looking grim. “What are you children doing?” Mrs. Roberts demanded. “Why did you open the door? Don’t you know it’s dange—”
“Hush, dear,” Mr. Roberts said.
“I saw something under my window,” Xena said. “It wasn’t a person. It was bigger than a person, and it looked like it was covered with fur.”
Mrs. Roberts went white, even to her lips. She clung to her husband. “Oh, Nigel.” Her voice was barely audible. “Oh, Nigel, it’s the Beast. It’s back.”
Xander felt his heart sink. So it was true! Whatever was causing all this uproar wasn’t a person. It was some kind of wild creature.
“The Beast?” Xena asked eagerly. Now they were getting somewhere! “You mean the Beast from a hundred years ago?”
Mr. Roberts answered quickly as though to prevent his wife from speaking. “We mean nothing of the sort. Now scoot back up to bed.”
They didn’t exactly scoot, but they went upstairs. Xander shot a glance at Trevor’s door as he went past it. It was shut tight. He must be a heavy sleeper, he thought.
And they didn’t exactly go to sleep either. At least not for a long time.
Xena stood outside her bedroom window the next morning, hands on her hips, peering at the ground.
“What’s the matter?” Xander joined her. The smooth lawn with well-trimmed shrubbery looked so calm in the daylight. A brick walkway with a white metal workbench in the middle led through a tidy little flower bed.
But Xena wasn’t admiring the garden. “Gravel,” she said in disgust. “It goes all the way up to the house on this side. And it’s dry. You can’t even tell if anything stood there, much less the shape of its foot.”
Xander squatted. There was no sign of the Beast here. He felt a mixture of disappointment and relief. “Cheer up. The thing you saw had to come from somewhere. Sure it wasn’t this bush that you were looking at?”
“Positive. It was lots bigger and shaggy. And it was moving, like it was pushing its way through the bush. Do you think I’m imagining things? Or dreaming?”
“Okay, okay,” Xander said. “Chill. I’m just trying to make sure.”
“Make sure of what?”
He didn’t answer and she was too cranky from lack of sleep to pursue it. They walked around the area slowly, bent over with their eyes on the ground, trying to find a footprint, some flattened grass, broken twigs—anything that would tell them which direction the Beast had come from.
“Nothing,” Xander said. “I bet it hasn’t rained here in a week. The ground’s hard, and the grass just bounces back after you step on it.” He pressed his foot into the ground and lifted it up to demonstrate. Sure enough, the neatly trimmed grass sprang right back. “What’s the point of being in this wet country if it stops raining just when you need clues?”
Xena didn’t answer right away.
“I said what’s the point—”
“Xander, come here. I think I’ve found something! Look at this!” She was pointing at the top of a wooden frame that supported a climb
ing rosebush.
At first he didn’t see anything. Then—“Wow!” Xander couldn’t help being intrigued. “Could that be a piece of fur?” Something was stuck in a broken place at the top of one of the posts. He stretched one hand up but the clump of fuzz was way out of his reach.
“Wait a sec,” Xena said. “We have to do it carefully. We need to preserve the evidence.”
Xander hung back, letting his sister shinny expertly up the sturdy post. The fingers of her right hand removed the dark brown clump while she held on with her left. In a moment she dropped lightly down to the ground and held out her palm to her brother.
“Sure looks like fur,” she said.
Xander nodded. Despite his worry about coming face-to-face with a wild animal, he was starting to get excited and to think like a detective. They had a solid clue now, and they had to figure out what it meant. “It’s too fuzzy to be human hair. And it’s too high up to be from a dog, even a really big one. I haven’t seen any big dogs around here, have you?”
Xena shook her head. “And all the sheep we’ve seen are white, so it can’t be some wool that floated up there somehow. Remember what Sherlock always said.” Together they recited, “‘When you have excluded the impossible, whatever remains, however improbable, must be the truth.’”
“We’ve excluded humans and dogs and sheep, so even though a beast is improbable, it’s the only explanation left,” Xander said. “And we’ve got good solid evidence too. Nobody could say that this was a dream! Let’s send it to the SPFD. Maybe the lab can analyze it.”
At the stationer’s on the village square they found a puffy envelope. Xena addressed it to Andrew Watson, the boy at the Society for the Preservation of Famous Detectives who had shown them around the SPFD’s lab. Before she sealed the envelope, Xander pulled the MP3 player out of his pocket. He hated to have to go without music for the rest of the vacation, but it would be a small sacrifice if the lab could analyze the roar of the Beast as well as its fur.
When they mailed the package (overnight so that Andrew would get right on it), the clerk behind the counter said, “You’re the kids who’re staying at the Robertses’ place, right?” Xena said they were, and the clerk pulled out a bundle of letters. “Would you mind giving these letters to Mrs. Roberts? Save the postman a few steps.”
The Beast of Blackslope Page 4
