The Crook or the Creeper?

Dear Readers,

I was going to go and write a huge article on Michael and the Gooseberry Warehouses, but Josh said I couldn't. I'm afraid that my mom agree. Urgh. It would've been great. I was going to go and name it, "The Crook or the Creeper?". Doesn't that sound like a good title? I thought so, too.

So Mom's convinced that she's going to get me to run cross country. So the other day she went and took me to a meet. She'd gone off to talk with everybody, so I was just standing there, bored out of my brains as I waited for the races to start.

Noah wasn't there, obviously; nobody I knew was there. Of course football (Noah's sport) and cross country happen at the same time. So of course I wouldn't have seen Noah there. I just wished he'd been there, because I was seriously bored out of my brains.

I couldn't help but notice this one kid with shorter sandy blonde hair and darting eyes standing by one of the tables. I frowned. What was he so nervous about? I'd studied enough people to know that he was nervous.

Then I noticed something. He was turned inward. He kept on glancing over his shoulder, as if he expected somebody was going to grab his shoulder any second. I looked behind him. In the near distance I saw a suspicious-looking man in a gray trench coat and fedora. Out of place? You've got to be joking. This guy looked like he thought he was Sherlock Holmes-modern.

I sighed. I didn't want to get mixed up in a mystery. But then again, I was dramatic, crazy Jessie. I might as well figure out what on earth was going on! Besides, I felt bad for the kid. I knew that from his uniform he had to be from one of the teams. His colors spoke of the Treyton Knights.

"Hey, my name's Jessie Bender." I held out my hand.

The boy looked at me in surprise. "Mor Banks."

"Mor?" I repeated.

"It's for Morris," he shrugged. "But I hate that name. So my friends call me Mor."

"Are you OK?" I whispered.

He gave me a look.

"You just seem nervous," I shrugged. "Do you need any help? My mom's here. I'm sure she could help you, if you needed anything."

"I'm fine." He looked over his shoulder again.

"Sure?" I asked.

He shrugged.

I sighed. "OK. But if you need help......" I trailed off as I walked away.

For the rest of the day, I watched the weird dude in the trench coat. He kept on sending glances over at Mor. Then it was time for Mor's race. I watched them set off. The man in the trench coat did, too. I didn't like that man. He flipped a cell phone out of his pocket and spoke just a few words.

I'd taught myself lipsinking. Horror built up in my heart as I read his lips.

There were only two. "Get him." And then he flipped the phone shut.

I tried to tell myself to relax. The kids were coming back, crossing the finishing line rapidly. And then, finally, everybody had gotten back. I'd made sure to count everybody. There was only one person missing.

Mor.

Everybody waited uneasily. He didn't come back.

I sighed. Oh, bother!

And so I ran. Up the hill. And beyond. And I couldn't find him.

So after I'd told Mom and she told the sheriff who'd started a search for him, we set off home.

Was that guy in the trench coat a crook?

Or was Mor a creeper?

Love,
Jessie