Just Like a Hero by Patricia Pellicane

anxiousness was completely unnecessary.
    She knocked on Mrs. Morgan’s door then drew back as the door was instantly answered. Mrs. Dietz nearly dragged her inside. She shut the door and locked it behind her.
    “What’s happened?” Lexie asked. “Is everyone all right?”
    “We’re fine for now, dear.”
    “What does that mean, for now?”
    The moment she asked the question Mrs. Gilbert burst into tears. She was talking while crying all into her lace trimmed hanky, and Lexie couldn’t make out a word.
    “What? What is she saying? Why is everyone here?” And everyone was there. All six of her elderly neighbors. Mrs. Summers, looking smaller and grayer than usual, wrung her hands in some anxiousness. Mrs. Gilbert cried. Mr. Burton tried to look mean.
    “She’s saying she doesn’t want to go to prison.” Mrs. Morgan interpreted.
    Lexie shook her head, dismissing the possibility.
    “She won’t. Just let me do what I want,” Mr. Burton replied.
    Lexie’s gaze widened. “What do you want to do?”
    “He wants to kill Mr. Kerrington.”
    “Oh,” Lexie whispered with half a smile and a sigh of relief. “Mr. Burton, you know better than that.”
    “He’s trying to put us all in jail, so he can rent out our apartments.”
    “Jail?” she asked, unsure of what he meant. “He can’t just put you in jail. Remember what Jim said? You’ll be fine. One of his people colleagues is sending all of you papers to fill out in case the man harasses you.”
    “We caught him planting a bag of marijuana in Marsha’s apartment.”
    “That’s weed,” Mr. Burton told her.
    It took Lexie a second to remember, Mrs. Morgan was Marsha. She never called them by their first names.
    “It’s weed, Tillie,” Mr. Burton said to Mrs. Gilbert. “I told you a dozen times, we can go to jail if the cops find it hidden in her boot.”
    “Okay, tell me what happened…”
    They all began to talk at once.
    “Wait!” she said above the sound of six eager voices. “You, Mrs. Morgan, you tell me, from the beginning. Everyone else be quiet.”
    She moved ahead of the group and entered the living room. With a horrified gasp, she instantly sought the steadiness of a wall and leaned against it. “Oh my God. What did you do?”
    “We tied him up.”
    A low muffled sound came from the man in the center of the room.
    “Why?”
    “Mr. Burton and I went to visit the puppies next door. You know the pet shop?” she asked, trying to explain.
    Lexie nodded. “All right, and…”
    “And,” Mrs. Morgan said, “when we got back we found him sitting on the floor, moaning in front of my opened closet.”
    “Moaning?”
    “Well, I was a little afraid, living here by myself and all, so I set up a trap, in case anyone looked into my closet without my permission.”
    “What was the trap?”
    “A bowling ball. I had it on the upper shelf.” She smiled. “Mr. Burton put it there for me.”
    The man nodded. “I had to use a stepstool. It was too high for me to reach.”
    Lexie nodded and repeated, “And…”
    “If anyone pulled my scarf out of the way, the small block above it would move and the ball would fall on them,” Mrs. Morgan said.
    “Would it? I mean did it?”
    “That’s why he’s bleeding.”
    “They hit me,” Mr. Kerrington muttered with his gag still in place. Still, Lexie was sure that’s what he’d said.
    “So you came home and found him sitting on the floor.”
    “Holding his head,” Mrs. Morgan added. “He was holding his head and the ball was against the wall. “I didn’t know it was him, so I grabbed Tommy’s bat.”
    “What?”
    “My grandson left it here. I grabbed the bat leaning against the wall behind the door and hit him. He passed out after that.”
    “He said he was going to press charges,” Mr. Burton added. “He said we were all going to jail.”
    “Did you?” Lexie asked the man tied at the center of the room.
    He shook his head no and moaned.
    “I’ll be right back,” Lexie said.