Turn Left at the Cow (15 page)

I shrugged and looked over at Kenny. My own head was feeling a little dizzy; I didn't know if it was from the glare or from all the maybes that kept swirling through my mind.

“I've been thinking a lot about it.” I handed Iz the bag of cookies. “But I can't figure out if the note writer is somehow a part of the whole bank robbery or if the note's just somebody's idea of a sick joke or one of those fake-outs you see in mystery stories.”

Iz swallowed a bite of cookie. “Red herrings, you mean?”

“Yeah, red herrings. Something that seems important but just distracts you from the real mystery. I mean, the real mystery is, did my dad really rob the bank, and if so, is he the one back here spreading the loot or has somebody else gotten his hands on it? Like I was thinking, what if somebody from town actually already found the money, but wanted to keep the whole big bunch of it and not just settle for the little reward? And when I turned up, it looked like the perfect chance to safely start spending the cash because I would be blamed.”

Kenny let out this snort, but with his eyes hidden behind his arm, I couldn't tell if he was questioning my reasoning or if it was just some weird kind of snoring.

I brushed cookie crumbs off my hands and reached into the paper bag again, pulling out the yellowed newspaper article about the bank break-in.

“I was reading some of this stuff from that box you found under Gram's bed.” I handed Iz the clipping. “You were right when you talked about my dad having an accomplice. Maybe the accomplice wrote the note.”

Iz took the last bite of her cookie and looked back and forth from the newspaper photo of my dad in his military uniform to me a couple times. Maybe she was seeing that thing people kept mentioning—how much we looked alike?

“Or this note writer could be somebody who's been looking for the money all these years and never found it, so he's trying to spook me into giving it up,” I said. “I mean, think how mad you were when you first met me, 'cause you thought I had come here to ace you out of the reward.”

Iz's cheeks turned a little pink but she nodded. “That's why I don't know if it's such a good idea to answer him back like you did.” She reached out and placed her hand on my forearm. I had thought the sun was hot, but this was a whole different kind of warm. “Are you sure you want to leave that note? There's still time to dig it up again.”

“Even if the accomplice is just one of the possibilities for the note writer, I can't miss the chance to connect with him,” I said.

“But if it is the accomplice, doesn't that guarantee he's dangerous?” Iz asked.

I tapped the newspaper. “It says in here that it was a bank
burglary
, not a bank robbery. I Googled them this morning because I didn't know the difference. Robbers break in when there are people around, waving guns and stuff. Burglars, they do their thing at night, when nobody's around to get hurt. I don't think this note writer really wants to hurt anybody. I think he just wants to scare me. Once he finds out I'm not going to scare that easily, maybe he'll have to come talk to me. That's my chance to find out more about my dad.”

Kenny suddenly sat straight up and blinked at the two of us. “We better get our butts out of here. Like you said, the bad guy's not gonna show while he can see the good guys' boat on shore.”

Iz dropped her hand and I looked over at her worried face. “Yeah, time to go,” I said. I mean, us macho guys, we had to play it cool around the girls, even if we were a little freaked, right? But when Kenny got up and walked away to pull the anchor out of the sand, I reached over to nudge Iz's hand with mine.

“I just have to know,” I said, too low for Kenny to hear. “The accomplice is the only one other than my dad who knows what really went down, right? If there's a chance there's somebody out there who knows the truth about my father, I have to do whatever I can to find out.”

Iz nodded at me once again. But the worry didn't leave her face the whole time we bounced back home. She just stared toward the island where we had left the Monopoly money and the note waiting for whoever was going to show up to pass Go and collect the $200.

The more freaked Iz looked, the more stoked I got. I could just tell that something was going to go down soon. Maybe I'd called somebody's bluff. Or maybe I'd set myself up for the big chicken in the sky to squirt green poop all over the bingo square I happened to find myself standing on at that moment. But at least I was taking some action instead of waiting around to get punked. I was sure that we'd be able to nail the note writer and find out what he knew about my dad.

When we hit shore, Kenny ran up to his house to find the binoculars. Iz and I were supposed to keep watch over the island.

Iz stared out at the water. “So besides not really knowing who you might be messing with, there's this other thing . . . Trav, sometimes parents, they . . . they just aren't who you need them to be.” She turned to watch me bounce around on the dock, working off a sudden adrenaline buzz. “Have you thought what it could do to you if you find out something about your father you don't want to hear?”

Like, for instance, that he was a bank robber? Too late—she'd already let that cat out of the bag my first morning in town. But I decided to cut her some slack; after all, she had to be walking a minefield for me here, being willing to talk about parents who let you down. I mean, just look at the source of her own chromosomal soup.

But I couldn't let anything or anyone—including Iz and her worries—stop me. I'd come to the End of Nowhere determined to learn “the whole truth and nothing but the truth” about my old man. So even though it was turning into one of those “be careful what you wish for” moments in life, I had to keep going. So what if the final package of facts pretty much bit the big one? I'd still be learning about the guy who'd contributed to my DNA but not my college fund. And I could handle the truth. Whatever it was. Right?

In the end, hadn't I proved I could pull off that walking-catfish thing? When the water in the California pond had started to feel toxic . . . no problem, I just moved myself along. Same went for here—if it turned out Daddy-O had made choices that left me high and dry in Minnesota, then I would just move myself along again, testing out ponds until I found one that I could call home.

Funny thing was, despite all the crap that kept getting dumped onto my head, I was starting to really like the Minnesota pond. Iz and Kenny and Gram all seemed to have their own way of helping me feel like this was where I belonged. So I hoped the pond wouldn't have to dry up too soon.

I stopped bouncing. “Whatever I find out about my dad, I'll be okay—I promise you.” I paused, trying to figure out how to say it. “And you know, I'm, uh . . . sorry. About your mom and your dad and all that stuff that you're going through. I know how it must be for you.”

She jerked a shoulder in acknowledgment. Then she turned away to look out over the lake.

Her head suddenly whipped back around to me. “There's a boat pulling up to the island. Where's Kenny?”

Right then he came out holding the binoculars and a sandwich. Iz grabbed the binoculars away from him. “What took you so long, other than stopping to fill that endless pit you call a stomach?”

“The binoculars weren't in the house, so I figured they were in one of the cars. But I had to wait because Dad was in the garage. If he saw me plowing through all that crap in the van, he'd get it into his head I should clean the whole thing out.
Then
where would you be when you needed my help to catch the bad guy?”

Iz let out something of a snarl and kept adjusting the eyepieces. Kenny looked out toward the lake for the first time since returning. “Hey, a boat's pulled up on the island.”

“Really, Mr. Observant?” Iz dropped the binoculars from her eyes and sighed. “False alarm. It's Jill Iverson and that college boyfriend of hers. They're just out there to—” She stopped abruptly and her eyes shot around to me. I'd never seen anyone go red that fast.

It didn't take a brain surgeon to guess what Jill and her boyfriend were up to. I felt my face go instantly hot.

“What? Lemme see.” Kenny grabbed the binoculars away from Iz and raised them to his own eyes. “Whoa! Gotta give the dude points for that move!”

“Perv!” Iz turned her back on us and folded her arms over her chest with a huff.

“Hey, you were the one to bring it up in the first place.” Kenny lowered the binoculars and winked at me. “Show's over. They must have moved into the trees. I guess our bad guy will wait until their boat is gone before heading out there too, huh?”

“Probably.” I nodded.

“Kenny!” I hadn't noticed Krissy and Linnea until they were standing right next to us. “What are you doing with those? Mom's gonna be mad if you're peeking at girls again.”

Kenny scowled at his younger sister. “So Mom doesn't have to know, if certain bigmouths just keep their traps shut.”

Krissy scowled back at him.

Linnea gave a solemn nod. “If you took us out tubing, maybe we wouldn't have time to tell your mom.”

You had to give the kid credit—she'd pulled out that bit of blackmail without blinking.

Kenny shook his head. “Can't right now, Squid. I've got more important stuff to do.”

Iz leaned over and punched Kenny in the arm, then gave him an intent look. “Actually, I think that's a great idea.”

Kenny looked confused, so Iz continued. “Weren't you just saying you're worried that your dad will make you clean out the van if he sees you here? And how much you'd rather spend the afternoon out on the water? Circling around the island? Watching all the other boaters come and go? Tubing would be perfect.”

“Oh—oh, yeah. Yeah, that's right. Okay, everybody go put on your swimsuit and find your life jacket. And tell Mom we're taking you tubing but
don't
mention the binoculars or I'll throw you overboard.” The girls scattered and Kenny looked at me. “You too, man.”

Tubing at munchkin speed proved to be the perfect way to keep our eyes on the island for the rest of the afternoon without looking too obvious. Other boats zipped past us; some held people fishing, some were pulling water-skiers, and one big pontoon boat was loaded down with high school partiers. Kenny almost ran us into a sailboat while cranking his head around to check out the bikinis on board. But none of those boats landed on the island.

We had only two small glitches. The first happened when Kenny insisted it was my turn to try tubing. I had to admit, it didn't look all that exciting as far as rides go; “three-toed sloth” seemed to be Kenny's fastest tubing speed. But Linnea wouldn't leave it alone until I agreed to go, so I tore myself away from covertly staring at Iz.

As soon as I'd settled into the tube for a relaxing cruise, Kenny cranked the engine so high that I was bouncing like crazy over the water, almost—but not quite—flying. Then the tube hit some backwash and I had to make a choice between saving the ride and saving my dignity, because it suddenly became clear that my swim shorts had maybe one more good bounce—if I was lucky. No way I was risking an early moon sighting with Iz and the little girls watching me from the boat, so I let go and made a grab for the shorts just in time, drinking about a gallon of lake water in the process and coming up for air to hear the rest of them cackling like maniacs.

The second glitch happened when we were around the other side of the island and the boat suddenly sputtered twice, coughed, and then stopped altogether.

“Uh-oh,” said Linnea.

Kenny kept jiggling and unscrewing things on the motor. Then he dropped his hands down and just sat there.

“What's the matter?” asked Linnea.

Iz sighed her biggest sigh yet and opened her mouth to say something. Kenny gave her a look and she closed it again. Then he ripped out a fart louder than anything even Kalooky could manage, and Kalooky was West Coast champion.

“It's like this, Squid,” he said, over the top of Linnea's giggles. “I'm not out of gas, but the boat is.”

 

Big Ken eventually showed up in a neighbor's boat with a gas can and an order for us to head straight home for dinner. “Come over when you're done with supper, Trav, and bring your grandma,” he said. “Jen's decided we need some family time and we're building a campfire.”

I kept an eye on the island as best I could during dinner, but nobody else landed on the side I could see. By the time I'd helped Gram finish the dishes, the sun was starting to sneak its way out of the sky.

 

I was sucking in wood smoke and competing with Kenny to see which of us could stuff the most marshmallows into our mouth at once when Kenny's mom came over and dropped down next to us.

“Stop trying to choke yourself and go burn your poor old mother a marshmallow,” she told Kenny. She waited until he'd gone over to the fire and then turned to me. Fortunately that gave me time to choke down my own mouthful; it was clear she had plans to grill me about something.

“It's so good to have you here, Travis,” she said. “I know your grandma loves it. And I think it's made somebody else pretty happy too.”

I thought she was talking about Linnea; the kid had decided to thank me for the bike by charring me a series of increasingly sticky marshmallows. But when I followed Jen's eyes, I realized she was watching someone else instead: Iz, who was sitting across the fire with her arms curled around her upraised knees. She had this faraway look and a little I've-got-a-secret smile just at the corners of her lips.

I dropped my eyes and felt this big blush rise up my cheeks. I hoped that between the dusk and the heat of the fire, Jen wouldn't notice. She looked me over for a while without saying anything else, long enough for me to figure she'd guessed the truth. Then she chuckled and patted my knee before getting up to go pull Krissy farther back from the fire.