Don't Tell Anyone (13 page)

“I thought that bad man was going to hurt you,” Kylie said. “I was so scared that I couldn't even sing.”

“I was scared, too,” Megan admitted.

“He was a dirty rotten rat,” Kylie declared. “He deserves to go to jail.”

Megan agreed.

“I'm glad you're okay,” Kylie said. “I would be lonesome without you.”

Megan hugged her sister. In spite of Kylie's endless songs and chatter, she knew she would be lonely without Kylie, too.

Mrs. Perk said, “I told the Colbys about the cats, and about how Shane pretended to be Brice.”

Mr. Colby said, “I called Dale Burrows and told him not to clear the field.”

“I'm a member of Feline Friends,” Mrs. Colby said. “We have what we call a TNR program for feral cats: trap, neuter, and release. We use humane traps to catch them. They're treated for any disease they have and neutered so they won't produce kittens. If they're too wild to be tamed, we let them go again in a place where there are no predators or traffic.

“We also have volunteers who take cats, including adult cats, into their homes for socialization. Once the cats are used to being handled, we put them up for adoption. All of the cats you found will be either placed in homes or released in a safe place.”

“That's great,” Megan said.

Mrs. Colby continued. “We'll pick up those kittens first thing tomorrow morning. Feral kittens are often sick. They may need antibiotics and supplemental feedings with an eye-dropper. They may need heat lamps or hot pads to keep them warm. Some feral kittens even need subcutaneous feedings.”

“I'll take care of Dinkle,” Kylie said. “I'll keep him warm.”

“The kittens need to stay with the mother cat for now,” Mrs. Colby said.

Instead of going to work Friday afternoon, Lacey Wilcox drove to the police station.

She went to the nearest desk and said, “I have information about that hit-and-run accident where the woman died.”

An officer led her into a private office.

“I was driving the other car,” Lacey said. Tears trickled down her cheeks as she explained what had happened with the spilled soda. “I panicked,” she said. “I've never been so scared.”

The officer looked stern. “You should not have left the scene,” he said.

“I know. That's why I'm here. I'm sorry about the accident, and I'm sorry I ran away.” No matter what happened now, Lacey thought, she had finally done the right thing. “I didn't think we had collided hard enough to injure anyone,” she said.

“The crash didn't kill the other driver,” the officer said.

“The newspaper said she died.”

“The autopsy showed that Mrs. Leefton died of a heart attack. A man mowing his lawn noticed her driving erratically about a block before the intersection. He watched and saw her run the stop sign. He said she never used the brakes, even after you honked at her. The death was not your fault, and the accident was not your fault, either.”

Lacey realized that if she had not admitted her part in the accident, she would never have known about the heart attack. She would always have carried the guilt of thinking she had caused a death.

“I'll have to ticket you for leaving the scene of an accident,”
the officer said, “but since you turned yourself in, the fine will be reduced.”

All Lacey could say was, “I won't lose my job. I can still go to college.”

Early the next morning, Officer Rupp arrived to drive Megan to Desolation Hill. “You don't lead a dull life, do you?” he said, when Megan opened the door.

She gave him the note that had been left in the field. “I thought the note was from the driver of the tan car. It turned out to be from Shane Turner.”

“You should have called me immediately,” Officer Rupp said. “People who write threatening notes are dangerous.”

“I found that out,” Megan said.

She also gave him the clipping about Lacey Wilcox. “I think she was driving the tan car,” Megan said.

“You're right. I've already talked to her.”

Officer Rupp drove past the airport. Megan saw two balloons from the festival rise into the air. Watching them, she shuddered with remembered fear.

When they turned off the road onto the path up Desolation Hill, Megan watched carefully for the place where she and Shane had pushed through the underbrush.

She missed it on the way uphill, and they got all the way to the charred remains of the balloon. As they drove back down, Megan spotted the broken branches and trampled weeds. “There!” she cried. “I think that's where we were.”

With Officer Rupp following, she found the big fir tree that she had hidden behind. Reenacting the drama of the night before, she crouched down, and dug her fingers in the dirt.

Seconds later, Megan stood and held out the envelope full of money.

“Brice Colby will be happy to see this,” Officer Rupp said. “He examined his company's books last night and learned that someone wrote an unauthorized check for over fifteen thousand dollars this week, plus a seven-hundred-dollar check two weeks ago. Both checks were made out to the owner of a nonexistent cement company.”

“Can you prove it was Shane?” Megan asked.

“The bank where he cashed the checks had a surveillance camera. The whole transaction is on film.”

After Officer Rupp took her home, Megan got out her bag of cat food. She was anxious to go to the field. Even though Mr. Colby had told the bulldozer driver not to continue clearing, Megan was nervous. She wanted to see for herself that the cats were safe.

“Can I go with you?” Kylie asked. “I want to see Dinkle.”

Megan started to say no, then remembered Kylie's remark that being lonesome wasn't any fun.

“You can come,” Megan said, “but you'll have to be quiet so you don't scare the cats.”

Kylie looked surprised. “I'm always quiet,” she said.

When the girls arrived at the field, Mrs. Colby and three other volunteers, all wearing thick elbow-length gloves, were there. The bulldozer was gone.

Claws and Pumpkin were in cat carriers, waiting to go to foster homes. Claws meowed and scratched at the carrier door; Pumpkin sat calmly, staring out.

“We think all of these cats will be adoptable,” Mrs. Colby said. “We caught those two without using the humane traps. It probably helped that you've been feeding them.”

Megan smiled.

“We caught your mother cat and her litter, too. They were in the drainpipe, just as you said. The kittens are small and hungry, but they don't appear to be sick.”

“Where are they?” Kylie asked. “I want to see them.”

Mrs. Colby pointed to a green van. “They're going home with me,” she said. “I'll care for them until they're old enough to be adopted.”

Mommacat and her kittens nestled into a soft blanket in a portable dog kennel in the back of Mrs. Colby's van.

Kylie pressed her nose against the van window and looked at the kittens. “There he is!” she said, pointing to a small striped kitten. “There's Dinkle!”

“Our mom said we can adopt two of the kittens when they're ready,” Megan explained to Mrs. Colby. “Kylie has already named hers.”

“Come and visit the kittens as often as you want,” Mrs. Colby said, “so they'll get used to you.”

Megan gave Mrs. Colby the bag of cat food, for Mommacat. When it was time to take Dinkle and his sibling home, she would buy kitten food.

One of the other volunteers called, “I have another one!”

Megan recognized Twitchy Tail in the woman's arms.

Kylie began to sing:

Megan laughed. Her sister's song did not annoy her today.

As she watched the volunteers from Feline Friends, her worries floated away, light as a hot-air balloon. The cats were going to be safe and healthy and loved. All of them.

Peg Kehret's
books for young readers are regularly recommended by the American Library Association and the International Reading Association. She has won numerous state awards, as well as the Golden Kite Award from the Society of Children's Book Writers and Illustrators and the PEN Center Award for Children's Literature.

Ms. Kehret and her husband live in a log house near Mount Rainier National Park in Washington State. From her home office she watches deer, elk, hummingbirds, and hawks. The couple have two grown children, four grand-children, a dog, and two cats. When she is not writing, Ms. Kehret likes to read, watch baseball, and pump her old player piano.