On Monday, after spending the afternoon at her best friend Julia's house, Bailey hurried toward her own. Wished she had a ride, but Julia's mom wasn't home yet either. Every day, Mom picked up Alexis from Jan's, her after school babysitter. Alexis was old enough to be a latch key kid like herself, but Mom didn't feel she, Bailey, at thirteen, was responsible enough to care for herself and Alexis. At 10, Alexis knew what to do in case of an emergency, but Mom still thought it best that Alexis stay with Jan.

Bailey hurried into the house. She didn't need a key; nobody ever locked their doors in this section of Meadville. No one who lived here owned enough of anything nice to steal. It was getting dark. She turned on the lights of their outdoor Christmas tree. The tree's white lights glowed to life, brilliant against the gloomy dusk. Deep down, Bailey knew that they never would have been able to get the lights and the big, white-lighted star all the way to the top of the tree without Charles. Three years ago after that horrible first Christmas after Dad died, and even last year, there was nobody to hang the lights. Even the tree in the living room hadn't had lights because Mom worked all the time and she didn't want anyone to help her. Mom didn't want pity or charity, but then she met Charles. Charles treated Mom, her and Alexis so well. He taught Art History at Allegheny College and painted great pictures.

As if she'd touched a bruise and realized it didn't feel as sore as she thought it would, Bailey discovered she wasn't sad about the lights anymore. I'm actually a little bit glad, she thought. It felt nice to have the outdoor tree lit again. She flipped the other switch. The hall light caused the holly wreath on the glassed front door to glow too. The sleigh bells that hung from the red ribbon jingled their music when she closed the front door. The bells sounded so sweet to her ears. She had helped Mom make that wreath. Where was Pip Squeak? He normally ran to her to say hello. She cocked her head. He was snuffling and whining at her bedroom door. How did he manage to get stuck in there? She'd let him out in a minute.

Bailey walked quickly into the living room to plug in the lights of the indoor tree and the cheap, red electric candle in the window. Charles had said that the last person to leave the house should unplug the lights, not just turn them off so the house would be safe from fire in case of a short circuit. He didn't want anything terrible to happen to them. Funny. Dad had always wanted the lights unplugged, too. She turned on the table lamp and plugged in the tree lights. They lit the room with a soft glow.

The tree had all the lights, but hardly any ornaments, not even the tinsel ropes! Somebody had stripped their Christmas tree almost completely bare! Just their school-made decorations remained, but all their old, German glass ornaments Mom had inherited from Grandma were gone. "Our angel," she said. "Our angel is gone too!" Dad had bought that angel for their first Christmas together, four days after she was born. Bailey began to search the lower branches and then the floor. Maybe the angel had fallen when the thief was stealing the ornaments.

"Oh no! I need to call the cops!" Good thing they didn't put the presents under there yet. Bailey felt a cold draft. Somebody just opened the back door. The thief was still in the house and now he was getting away! Feeling terrified and mad, Bailey rushed through the back hall and into the kitchen. The door to the back yard stood open, banging against the countertop from the gusts of cold air. She flipped the switch that turned on the backyard floodlight. A tall boy wearing an old Army jacket disappeared around the corner of the woodshed. She saw his back and light hair, but she knew who it was. The only boy it was likely to be. The worst boy in town.

"Pete Abbott!" Bailey yelled from the doorway. "Come back here with our angel!" He vanished. She slammed the door closed and leaned against it, breathing heavy with a pounding heart. She called Charles. He was home grading papers.

Soon, he arrived at the Croft home with the police chief.

They all stood in front of the Christmas tree.

"I'm sure it was Pete, Chief Elker. I saw his Army jacket," Bailey said.

"Well, it doesn't surprise me. I've been dealing with Pete for two years now, and he has always gotten himself into some kind of trouble or another." Chief Elker faced Charles. "It's bound to have been Pete. I'll go talk to him, Professor Bertram, and see if I can get your items back."

"Well, the items are Marilyn's, not mine." Charles looked at Bailey. "Maybe Pete has smaller brothers and sisters and the family had nothing to hang on their tree. I don't think this is outright vandalism."

Bailey couldn't believe her ears. Pete stole her family's history and locked poor Pip Squeak in the bedroom. If she or Alexis stole something, no matter the reason, Mom would beat their butts. She always said that they should never take stuff which didn't belong to them because someone had worked hard for it, and how would they feel if someone took their stuff?

"He has no younger siblings that I know about," Chief Elker said. "He probably stole those ornaments for amusement. If I let him get away with it this time, he'll do something worse next time."

"Well," Charles said, "I'll talk to Marilyn since this is her house and her ornaments."

Bailey wanted their angel back...now.

"I'll speak to Pete. Bailey, Charles, have a good evening." Chief Elker nodded at them and left.

Bailey gazed up at Charles. "Thanks for coming. I figured it would be faster to call you at home than call Mom."

"You're welcome, and I'm glad you did." Charles laid his hand on Bailey's shoulder. "Don't worry. It'll work out."

Bailey looked at the tree top again. She still intended to catch that thief Pete Abbott, Christmas or not, poor or not. That angel belonged in her family.

"You okay?" Charles's voice broke into her thoughts.

"I'm fine." She lied. "Just hungry and still a little scared."

"I understand. Let's get a little snack before dinner."

Just then, Bailey heard her mom's noisy old car in the driveway. A minute later, Alexis came running into the kitchen.

"Charles, why are you here?" Marilyn asked a little breathlessly as he stepped forward and took the grocery bags from her.

"We had a little excitement around here." He looked at Bailey and set the grocery bags on the table. "Bailey can tell you all about it."