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idea, I think it’s probably the best way to find clues and dig up the latest gossip—and find out who Al’s friends and enemies are. At the same time we need to learn all we can about B.J.—who she talks to and if she has any guys hanging around.”
    Lisa bounced out of the chair and started pacing. “I hate to think that guy last night could be someone we know. Or that one of my friends would pull a gun on us.”
    â€œThere are a lot of kids we don’t know all that well,” Jennie reminded her as she set the hairbrush aside and headed for her bed. She pulled up the sheets, adjusted the comforter, and tossed the pillows into place. “Besides, remember that discussion we had in political science when Barry Owen’s father talked to us about gun-control legislation? About half the class thought people should have a right to bear arms. A few even admitted they had purchased guns to protect themselves.” The thought of some of those kids carrying guns sent chills shuddering down Jennie’s spine. She’d seen firsthand what a bullet could do and didn’t want anything to do with them.
    â€œYou’re right. I’d forgotten about that.” Lisa grabbed Jennie’s arm. “I just remembered! Allison’s dad has a gun collection. I saw it last year at her party when he took some of us on a tour of the house.”
    â€œAll the more reason to stay there tonight. I’d like to have a look at it.” Excitement soared through Jennie, lifting her mood and her spirits. She imagined herself waiting until everyone in the house was asleep…then she’d sneak down the wide circular staircase, into the massive kitchen, and down the basement steps. She’d use the key to the wine cellar, which she would have confiscated earlier from the butler.
    Jennie would glance around her to make certain no one had followed, then step into the damp, dark cellar and brush away the cobwebs. There in the beam of her flashlight would be…a skeleton. No…no…no. This is a modern mansion, not a haunted castle in Ireland. The gun case, McGrady, get back to the gun case. Jennie imagined a massive gun case covering the back wall. In the lower right-hand corner where an antique gun should have been—the one Billy the Kid had used—there’d be nothing but an indentation and an I.D. plaque.
    She’d gather all the suspects into the living room and then bring the missing gun to Mr. Beaumont’s attention and confront Allison. It would be Allison, Jennie decided, not B.J. It was always the least likely suspect.
    You did it, didn’t you, Allison? she’d say. I suspected you all along. What I couldn’t figure out was who was working with you. Now I know that too. There’s only one answer. Only one person had the key to the gun case. Only one person knew the old gun still worked. And only one person had the ammunition. It was you, Mr. Beaumont. You wanted your daughter to succeed. You —
    â€œJennie?” Lisa’s voice interrupted her fantasy. “Earth calling Jennie…come in, Jennie.”
    â€œWhat…?”
    â€œWhere were you? I hate it when you space out like that. It gives me the creeps.”
    â€œI’m sorry. I was just thinking about the gun case. Lisa, do you remember much about the gun the guy was using last night?”
    â€œNo. Do you?”
    â€œJust that it was silver and had a long barrel. It reminded me of the kind of revolvers they used in old cowboy movies.” The phone rang. It was Aunt Kate—calling to remind Lisa about her tennis lessons. A few minutes later Lisa left, promising to call Allison and set things up for that night.
    Jennie finished cleaning her room, took a shower, dressed, then headed downstairs for a late breakfast. Mom was just finishing the dishes. “Good morning. I saved you some scrambled eggs and bacon.”
    â€œThanks.” Jennie placed the cooled