“I must be crazy. How did I let you talk me into this?” Amos pedaled along slowly behind Dunc, muttering under his breath. “Of all the dumb things you’ve come up with, this is the dumbest.”

Dunc stopped and waited for him to catch up. “Did you say something?”

“Yes, not that you ever listen to me. How much farther is it?”

“We’re almost there, Amos. The Von Helseg estate is just around the next turn.”

“And just what do you plan to do when we get there? Go up to the door and ask them politely if any vampires live there?”

“No. That’s what this is for.” Dunc pointed to a basket of fruit hanging from his handlebars. “We’ll get inside by pretending to be part of the Welcome Wagon, and then we’ll look for any obvious signs.”

Amos cocked his head. “I’ve been meaning to ask you about that. Not that I actually believe any of this garbage, but what exactly are these signs you keep talking about?”

“If my sources are correct, there are a couple of dead giveaways—excuse the play on words. A vampire won’t eat real food, has no reflection in a mirror, and absolutely hates the smell of garlic.”

Dunc reached into the pack he’d tied to the back of his bike. “Here. Put some of this in your pocket just in case.”

“Yuck!” Amos held his nose. “What’s that awful smell?”

“Garlic. Remember, I told you vampires really hate it.”

Amos took a piece. “I’m not exactly crazy about it myself. Why do I have to put it in my pocket? Why don’t you just wave some around and see what happens?”

“We don’t want to be too obvious. Vampires are liable to get nasty if they think someone is on to them.” Dunc pushed off. Over his shoulder he yelled. “Isn’t this great, Amos? If we’re right, we’ll probably be heroes and get our pictures on the cover of the National Intruder.”

Amos stuffed the garlic into his T-shirt pocket and followed Dunc around the corner. “Yeah, and if we’re wrong, C.D.’s family will probably call the police and have us arrested and thrown in jail till we’re as old as Ms. Fishbeck, the new principal.”

They pedaled down a tree-lined country lane, passing several tall white statues of mythological creatures. The drive made a circle in front of an old, three-story brick house. The house looked as if no one had taken care of it in years. The vines and hedges were scraggly and overgrown. A shutter had come loose on one of the second-story windows and was banging against the wall.

Amos looked around. “They sure wouldn’t win any prizes from House Beautiful.”

Dunc slid the basket over his arm and leaned his bike against the hedge. “Come on, Amos. Let’s see if anybody’s home.”

Amos sat on his bicycle. “You know, Dunc, maybe we should take a little time and think this one over. Chances are, you’re way off base as usual. But then again, suppose you’re right for once. If this guy is what you think he is, we could be into some serious stuff here.”

“Nothing’s going to happen, Amos. If he is a vampire, he’ll be just as scared of us as we are of him. Remember, we’ve got the garlic.”