“Amos, you’re supposed to be helping me find information. We can’t afford to make any more mistakes.”

“There’s nothing wrong with looking at informative magazines.” Amos turned a National Geographic sideways. “This one happens to be very educational.”

Dunc grabbed the magazine. “Cut that out. We came to the library to get as many facts on vampires as possible before tomorrow night.”

“I don’t need the facts. You do. Melissa’s party is tomorrow night, and I’m not going to miss it—even if Amy pulverizes me for it.”

“I’ve got that all worked out. C.D. is picking us up at seven o’clock, and Melissa’s party doesn’t start until eight. You’ve got a full hour to help me out. By the way, did your invitation ever arrive?”

“It probably got lost in the mail. But don’t worry. I’m not gonna let a little thing like that stop me.”

“Somehow I didn’t think you would.”

“Ahem.” At the next table, a tall, thin man with a pencil mustache cleared his throat. Then he whispered, “Did I hear you say you were looking for information about”—the man straightened his glasses and glanced around to see if anyone was listening—“vampires?”

Dunc nodded. “Why? Do you know a good resource book?”

“Better.” The man scribbled something on a piece of paper, folded it, and slid it across the table. “Tell him that Simpson sent you.”

The tall man quickly gathered his things and practically ran out of the library.

“If that doesn’t beat everything.” Amos scratched his head. “This town gets more crackpots every day.”

Dunc opened the paper. “This one may not be a crackpot, Amos. Take a look at this.”

Amos read the name. “Bertram Watson. Who’s that?”

“Don’t you remember? Dracula of the Night? Bertram Watson is the guy who wrote it. This is his address. He’s staying at the old Moonlight Inn.”

“That proves he’s a crackpot. Nobody stays there except winos, bums, and criminals.”

Dunc pushed his chair in. “Come on, Amos. You and I are going to pay Mr. Watson a visit.”

“Do you know what time it is? The poor man’s probably an early sleeper. I’ll bet he’s already in bed—where we would be if we had any sense.”

“I have a feeling about this, Amos.”

Dunc waved at Mr. Kibble, the librarian, who was putting the CLOSED sign in the front library window. The elderly gentleman tottered to the door and unlocked it to let them out. He patted Amos on the head. “That’s what I like to see. Young people studying, filling their minds with knowledge, not out playing those ridiculous video games till all hours of the night.”

“You know me, Mr. Kibble.” Amos put his hand on his heart. “I’d rather study than eat.”

Mr. Kibble winked at Dunc. “Next time keep him away from the magazine section.” He waited until they were through the door and then locked it behind them.

Amos ran his hand through his hair. “How did he know?”

Dunc unlocked his bike. “Mr. Kibble is pretty sharp. I heard in his younger days he was an agent for the CIA.”

“You’re kidding.”

“Maybe. But I wouldn’t have any overdue books if I were you. He’s been known to use jujitsu.” Dunc jumped the curb and waited.

Amos was still staring at the library.

“Get your bike, Amos. We don’t have all night.”

“I’m coming. Say, you wouldn’t be interested in bringing back a couple of slightly overdue books for me, would you?”

Dunc smiled. “We’ll talk about it later—after you help me get rid of the vampires.”