The woman sniffed. “That Mrs. Heath was uppity when she bought her groceries from us. The girl seemed real nice, though.”
“It’s the girl I want to see.” Vicki felt a great sense of relief at actually having located Mrs. Heath and Lucy. “How far is the Glidden place from here?” she asked.
“Oh, about twenty minutes up an awfully curvy, narrow piece of road. We could drive you up there.”
They all piled into the couple’s jalopy. The narrow road up to the house climbed and wound. “On a wet day,” said Mr. Potter, “anyone who drives on this road’ll break his neck.”
At the top of the road the land leveled off, and they reached a high stone wall. Behind it, Vicki could see only treetops and the second floor of a house. The Potters said the wall completely enclosed the Glidden place.
Mr. Potter stopped the car before a large wooden door in the wall. “We’ll have to honk,” he said. When there was no answer, he tried the door. “Locked,” he said.
Angie Potter raised her voice. “Oh, Mrs. Heath! Mrs. Hea-ea-eath!” Still no answer. “Maybe nobody’s home.”
Vicki said, “The upstairs windows are open, and the curtains are open, too. Someone’s probably at home.”
Mr. Potter honked, Mrs. Potter called, Vicki knocked on the wooden door in the wall. They made so much noise that a flock of birds swooped out of a nearby tree, and flew away.
“Not very neighborly,” Mrs. Potter grumbled.