Read [Janitors 03] Curse of the Broomstaff for Free Online

information for all these months?
    “I don’t know,” Alice said. “I just found it last night.”
    “It’s been in the mail for over two years?” Daisy exhaled. “Slow delivery.”
    “It was delivered to our old house,” Alice said, “years ago. It’s addressed to Spencer, from Alan. And the postage date is a match. It must have gotten lost in the clutter of the old house. Somebody packed it when we moved and it’s been sitting in a box downstairs for who knows how long. I was just looking for birthday candles.”
    A deep shred of anxiety entered Spencer’s heart. A question came to his mind that he and Alan had both been interrogated for. “Did you open the package, Mom?” Spencer asked.
    She turned to her son, managing to shake her head. “Your father said not to.”
    Spencer felt a rush of relief, dispelling his unease from the moment before. If Alice hadn’t looked inside the package, then she posed no threat to the BEM. Now Spencer could leave safely, knowing that the Bureau wouldn’t come after the rest of his family on Hillside Estates.
    “Then it was you who took the radios off the grid?” Bernard asked, glancing at the walkie-talkie on the table in front of Spencer.
    Alice nodded. “I thought he would come,” she said.
    “Oh, he’s coming, all right.” Bernard looked at the clock. “But not here. First rendezvous time expires in half an hour. We’ve got to take the package and move on to the next site.”
    “Happy birthday to me!” shouted a little voice from the entryway. The birthday boy stood with a mischievous glint in his eye, brown hair shaggy and unkempt. Max was pulling something wrapped in a bedsheet over one shoulder like a big makeshift sack. He’d dragged the load up the stairs when he saw the visitors at the table.
    “Presents!” Max shouted, throwing back the sheet to expose his loot. The four-year-old had gathered anything that looked like it might be a birthday gift and piled it into his sack.
    “Remember, Max,” Alice said, “we’re not opening presents till the party tonight.”
    Max threw his head back and growled. Then he dove into his pile of gifts and grabbed the biggest box in bright happy birthday wrapping. He shook the present with all his strength, listening to the way the box’s contents clanked around.
    “Presto Racing Police Edition Remote Control Car!” Max shouted at the top of his lungs. He did a little happy dance, kicking and scattering presents from his pile. Max’s foot caught on something. He tripped, sending a parcel skidding across the hardwood floor to rest at Spencer’s feet.
    It was a white mailing tube, about a foot long, with plastic caps over both ends. There was a set of postage stamps at one end, slightly bent and crinkled from neglect.
    Spencer reached down. His chair shifted, and the mailing tube rolled another half-turn, exposing a smudged address label in Alan Zumbro’s distinctive handwriting.

To: Spencer Zumbro 477 Winowah Way Spokane, WA 99223
From: Dad
    Spencer’s hand closed over the mailing tube, his heart hammering as he realized the significance.
    “Mine!” Max threw himself at Spencer, gripping the package with both hands. Spencer jerked back, feeling the mysterious contents of the mailing tube slide from one end to the other. The brother tug-of-war lasted only a moment.
    Alice descended upon Max, prying him away from the important package, trying to explain that it wasn’t another birthday gift. The conflict ended poorly, with Max abandoning his entire pile of presents and running, sobbing, to his bedroom.
    “Poor little guy,” Daisy said. She turned a disapproving stare at Spencer. “Why would you steal his presents?”
    Spencer set the postal tube on the table, checking that the end caps were still secure. “Because it wasn’t for him.” Spencer pointed to the address label. “This is it.”
    Alice nodded in agreement, a trace of embarrassment on her face for having already lost track of the