Wild Rescue (8 page)

Chapter 28

Most of the houses
that had been burgled were different. Only one had an electronic alarm. Some had kids living there (who could have talked with friends about going away), but Mrs. Watson and the other elderly lady who lost jewelry hadn’t.

How had anyone found out that Mrs. Watson was going away? She was such a loner. If I was going to find Mrs. Watson’s jewelry, I had to figure that out—and fast.

I wrote:

Delivery people

Police

Church people

Neighbors/acquaintances

Mr. Krenshaw

I called Mrs. Watson. She sounded weak. Before I could even ask anything, she told me Mr. Krenshaw had come to her house.

“His son told him what had happened—I guess he heard from you, Bryce. I think he feels worse about the stolen items than I do. He said he’d do anything to help get them back and that he was sorry he hadn’t taken better care of my place.”

I circled Mr. Krenshaw’s name. If he was guilty, would he do this? Was he trying to look innocent, or was he innocent?

I asked her again if she might have told anyone she was going to be gone.

“No. Like I told the police, I don’t publicize my trips.”

Chapter 29

It was hard to go back to school.
I kept telling myself there were only four days left and that I’d be taking care of alpacas soon. The class I dreaded most was band. The thought of it curled my stomach. I saw Hayley in the hall before class and took her hand.

“I need some help in here,” I said.

“You and me both.”

Liz and Denise were sitting in the first two chairs, like it was territory they had staked out a hundred years ago. Instead of making a scene, I sat in the third, next to Hayley.

There was whispering as Mr. Scarberry greeted the sections. He paused at the flutes, then continued to his desk. “You all have a good time Friday?” he called out.

People groaned.

“Aw, come on. It was better than that, wasn’t it?”

“We didn’t get to throw you in the pool,” somebody said.

“Yeah, isn’t that a tradition?” Duncan said.

“Maybe next year,” Mr. Scarberry said. “Music out, please, and will the flutists please sit in their correct chairs?”

My face was hot. Did he have to do this?

“Now!”

“You’re dead,” Liz said, as the three of us clumsily moved.

After class, Mr. Scarberry stopped Hayley and me. “How do you two feel about Friday?”

“Like we caused everybody a lot of trouble,” Hayley said, “but it really wasn’t our fault.”

Mr. Scarberry nodded. “You should have stayed together, but I agree. There’s more going on here, and I hope to get to the bottom of it.”

“What did that mean?” Hayley said as we walked into the hall.

I shrugged, then caught my breath as I saw Liz and Denise in front of my locker.

“Timberline,” Denise said, sneering, “saw you at the farm yesterday.”

“Yeah,” I said. “So?”

“You watching the herd while the Morrises are away?”

“Why?”

“They asked me first, but I don’t need a job.” She leaned close. “Be careful. A bear or a coyote could snatch one of those little ones right out from under your nose. Then how would you feel?”

I clenched my fists and gritted my teeth. “Don’t you dare threaten me, Denise! And don’t you dare threaten those animals!”

Denise stepped back as if caught off guard, then seemed to recover. She smiled impishly. “Just be careful, that’s all.”

“Way to go, Ash!” Hayley whispered as they walked away. “You actually yelled.”

I opened my locker and saw my WWJD sticker on the back of the door.
Would Jesus have yelled at them?

After what he did to the money changers in the temple, I wasn’t so sure. I didn’t know how I was supposed to feel.

Chapter 30

After school
I stopped in to see Mrs. Watson. Peanuts barked his head off when I knocked and was still barking when Mrs. Watson opened the door. She was in her robe, looked pale, like she’d been inside for three weeks, and had bags under her eyes. I was used to seeing her working in her garden in a big, floppy hat, so this was weird.

“Come on in, Bryce honey,” she said. “Let me get you a snack.”

Mrs. Watson’s snacks are legendary. At Halloween her place is everyone’s favorite.

She poured me a glass of milk, then took several cookies from a Ziploc bag and put them in the microwave.

“You feeling okay?” I said.

She ran her hand lightly across the tablecloth. “Just my old bones giving out. I’ll be all right.”

I dipped a cookie into the milk. The chocolate was still warm and left swirls in the milk. “About last week. Are you sure you couldn’t have said something to someone at the grocery store, to one of the neighborhood kids, maybe the mailman?”

“I’ve been over this with the police and you, Bryce.”

“I know, and I’m sorry, but—”

The phone rang. When Mrs. Watson answered it in the living room, I noticed a calendar on a small desk in the corner. One day said
carpets cleaned
, and another said
pharmacy refill
. Two days before she had left on her trip a note said
oil change
. It had a check mark beside it.

I finished my last cookie and headed toward the front door.

“It’s my brother,” she said, covering the phone. “Talk to you later.”

“Thanks for the cookies,” I whispered.

Chapter 31

When I got home Leigh
was on the front porch looking through the newspaper for a used car. She didn’t have any money, but it doesn’t hurt to dream.

I was surprised when she said, “What’s wrong with you?”

“Nothing.”

“Boyfriend trouble?”

“I wish,” I said.

Leigh hadn’t been the most excited person in the world when Mom, Bryce, Dylan, and I moved in, and she was even less thrilled when we became Christians. So I’d kept my distance, not wanting to be the needy stepsister.

“You look like somebody just swallowed Frodo,” she said. “What’s up?”

“Some girls in band are jerking me around.”

“Band girls. Moved ahead of them, did you?”

“Yeah.”

“You want Randy to beat them up?”

I couldn’t help smiling, thinking about Leigh’s boyfriend squaring off against Denise and Liz with his big muscles.

“What’d they do?” she said, putting the paper down.

She cringed at the Happy Canyons part, and when I finished my story she shook her head. “Maybe you can get that dog at the alpaca farm to attack them.”

“No, seriously. Any real ideas?”

She bit her lip. “I’m not into the ‘turn the other cheek’ thing. I’d fight fire with fire. Go after them.”

I sat. “Like how?”

She shrugged. “Put alpaca poop in their backpacks. Something like that. Make their lives as miserable as they’ve made yours. That’ll stop them.”