Blue Ribbon Trail Ride (7 page)

It didn't take long to mix up and bake a batch of snickerdoodles. A couple of hours later, Kate and her three friends stood on the doorstep of Mr. Wallace's house, cookies in hand.

Kate couldn't stop her knees from shaking. It was a good thing Melissa was carrying the plate of cookies and planned on talking. At least
her
hands were steady.

Colt knocked on the door, and Tori leaned close to whisper in Kate's ear. “I sure hope this turns out okay. I'm nervous.”

Kate nodded, but she didn't speak as the door swung open.

Mr. Wallace gave a start, then peered closer at the kids through his thick glasses. “What can I do for you young folks?” He ran a hand over his iron-gray hair and glanced back into the house.

Kate stiffened. Was he already feeling guilty or maybe even trapped? Did he guess why they were there, and was he trying to plan a way to escape? A loud noise carried from inside the house.
How silly—the TV is on, and he's probably upset we interrupted whatever he's watching.

Melissa extended the plate. “Hello, Mr. Wallace. Kate—I mean we—thought we'd bring you a batch of fresh-baked snicker­doodles.” She gave him a sweet smile.

“What for?” He glanced over his shoulder again.

“Uh … to say we're sorry for all the bother recently.”

“What's that?” He turned his entire attention on Melissa now. “What bother? Have you been over here bothering me when I didn't know it?”

“No, of course not.” She seemed a little flustered now and definitely nervous. She licked her lips and held out the plate again. “Would you care for some cookies? They're still warm.”

“But what are they for?” He kept a firm grip on the edge of the door, not opening it any more than the width of his frame.

Kate could see Colt almost standing on tiptoe trying to peer inside, and she nudged him. They didn't want Mr. Wallace to suspect anything.

Melissa widened her smile. “You know. All those days when people were coming to the barn to sign up for the scavenger hunt—our trail ride. You came over and mentioned the traffic was annoying, so we wanted to apologize.”

“Ah … I see. Well, I suppose I could take them. Thank you.” He reached out a hand, but she took a half step back.

Kate moved up beside her. “We had one other thing you might be interested in. We wondered if you'd still like to purchase that antique box you noticed in the office that belongs to my mom.”

“What's that? A box? I don't remember a box.”

Kate's heartbeat intensified, and she shot a glance at Melissa. She gave a nod that could barely be seen, and Kate looked at Mr. Wallace again. “You know—the old antique box. You told me to let you know if she ever decided to sell it.”

He reached for the plate of cookies. “Don't remember a box. Thanks for the cookies.”

Colt touched the man's arm. “It's such a hot day. We were in a hurry to get here, and we didn't bring our water bottles.” He chuckled. “We didn't even take time to eat any cookies ourselves. Would you mind if we come in and get a drink of water?”

Mr. Wallace eyed them, then peered over his shoulder again. Finally he sighed. “I suppose. Come along.” He grabbed the plate, then hurried down the short hall, with all four of them following.

He stopped in the kitchen and waved toward the sink. “Glasses are to the right in the cupboard, but I'm not sure if there's any clean ones. You might try the dishwasher. I have coffee on. I don't suppose any of you drink that at your age?”

Tori shook her head and opened her mouth, but nothing came out.

Colt smiled. “I don't, but thanks. Maybe the girls can wash a coffee cup for you and glasses for the rest of us, if you don't mind?”

He lifted a shoulder. “Suit yourself. There's plenty of dirty ones in the sink.”

Kate's nose tingled with disgust. The place stunk. The sink was stacked with dishes that appeared to have been there for days. Crumbs and something sticky dotted the surface to the right of the sink, and the worn linoleum floor squeaked as she took another step. A fly flew past her nose and landed on the rim of a glass. She felt as if she was going to hurl.

Colt cleared his throat. She looked at him, and he waggled his eyebrows, then pivoted and faced Mr. Wallace. “Would you mind if I use your bathroom while the girls visit with you and wash your dishes?”

Tori gave a soft moan. “Dishes?” She mouthed the word.

Melissa grabbed a handle next to the faucet and flipped on the hot water. “Yeah, come on, Tori. You and I will start. Kate, why don't you take the plastic off the cookies and see that Mr. Wallace helps himself while Colt finds the bathroom?”

Colt disappeared in a different direction than they'd come.

Kate watched him go with a lump in her throat.
Please don't get caught. Please don't get caught.
The words repeated themselves over and over in her mind without stopping. She leaned over the plate that Mr. Wallace had set in the middle of the cluttered kitchen table. “So, Mr. Wallace, have you had snickerdoodles before?” It was a lame thing to say, but she couldn't think of anything else at the moment. If she wasn't careful, she'd be saying “Please don't get caught” aloud, which wouldn't do at all.

Mr. Wallace inhaled three cookies while Tori and Melissa washed a few glasses and a mug. Kate grabbed a towel and dried them, then poured the coffee. “Do you take it black?” Thankfully her voice didn't squeak.

“Yes.” He extended a hand while he reached for another cookie with the other. “These are good, thank you. But you kids had better get your drinks and head home. I'm sure your parents are wondering what's taking so long. Don't want you to get in trouble.” He took a sip and set the mug down. “Now where's that boy? He's taking an awfully long time to use the bathroom.”

Kate nearly jumped in front of him when he rose. “Wouldn't you like another cookie to go with that coffee?”

He shook his head. “No. I'm going to check on that boy. What did you say his name is?”

“Co-co-colt.” Kate pressed her lips together and aimed a panicked glance at Melissa and Tori. “Now what?” she mouthed.

Tori's round eyes stared back at her, and Melissa didn't speak. Suddenly a loud crash echoed from down the hall, and Mr. Wallace bolted from the room with a roar.

Tori swung toward Kate. “What should we do? Will he hurt Colt?” Her normally dusky face looked as pale as Melissa's.

Melissa glanced from Kate to Tori. “We'd better find out. But be ready to make a run for the front door if we have to.”

Kate raced for the doorway where Colt had disappeared what seemed aeons ago. “If Colt isn't hurt and can run. That crash sounded bad.” She dashed down a short hall past stacks of papers, trying to figure out where to go next. Three doors opened off the hall, but an open archway ahead beckoned.

A moan emanated from the room. Kate skidded to a stop in the doorway and blinked, not sure what she was seeing. Stacks of newspapers and magazines as high as her shoulders lined the wall in rows. A wide spot in the middle of the room contained an easy chair and a TV, along with a side table next to the chair covered with more dirty dishes and a dust-covered lamp. “Colt? Where are you? Mr. Wallace? What happened?”

“I'm over here.” Colt's voice came from the far side of the room, and Kate suddenly noticed Mr. Wallace bending over a pile of magazines and newspapers. She and the girls rushed forward.

Kate stopped, then leaned over what she could see of Colt. His head, shoulders, and chest were free, and Mr. Wallace was carefully moving more clumps of papers from around Colt's waist. Kate shook her head, trying to clear it of the fear that had gripped her the past minute or so. “Are you hurt? Can you get up?”'

Mr. Wallace glowered at Colt. “You messed up my row. I had it all organized and neat, and you messed it up. You need to go home now.” He raised his head and growled. “All of you.”

Colt rolled out from under the last of the magazines and tried to stand but lost his balance on a wobbly stack of papers under his foot. He flailed his arms and pitched forward toward another row. Kate and Tori jumped forward and grabbed his arms, pulling him back before he sent it tumbling as well.

Colt pressed his hands against the shivering mass of paper and moaned. “That was close. Why do you have all of these, Mr. Wallace? I'm sorry I knocked them over. I must have gotten turned around as to how to get back to the kitchen. Then I slipped on a glossy magazine that was on the floor, and the next thing I knew, all of this was coming down on top of me.”

Tori shuddered. “This stuff is heavy. You could have been seriously hurt.”

Mr. Wallace's red face dripped with perspiration. “Get your cookie plate and leave my house this instant. It's going to take me the rest of the day to get all of these stacked the way they were before.” He wrung his hands. “Oh my, what will I do now? Such a disaster. All these beautiful magazines and precious papers damaged. Oh my.” He turned his back on them and bent to pick up a stack.

Colt dusted off his jeans. “I'm really sorry, Mr. Wallace. Would you like us to stay and help you clean up? We can stack the magazines fast.”

“No!” He swiveled and pointed toward the kitchen. “I'll do it myself. Just get your plate and go.”

Kate led the way through the stacks of periodicals and papers, shaking her head. What would make a person collect all this stuff? If this place ever caught on fire … She shivered thinking about it.

The four of them slipped out the front door after retrieving Kate's plate. Colt shut the door carefully behind them. “That was pretty weird.” He rubbed his shin. “I had no idea a stack of magazines could hurt so much. I'll probably have bruises on top of bruises tomorrow.”

They walked down the gravel road, heading for home. Tori clutched the empty plate to her chest and stopped walking. “So … did you find anything?”

Melissa and Kate halted and stared at Colt.

He motioned with his hand. “Come on. Let's get out of earshot. Mr. Wallace might decide to slip out the back door and follow us to make sure we're gone.”

They started up again, but Kate shook her head. “That man is too worried about his mess to care about us. What do they call people like that? I know there's a name for it.”

“Hoarders,” Melissa said. “Funny that it was only in his living room and hall. There weren't any piles in his kitchen.”

Colt snorted. “That's about the only place that didn't have them. I opened two doors besides the bathroom. Every room had stacks of papers and magazines. It would take a lifetime to collect that many. I don't get it.”

“It's a sickness,” Tori explained. “I heard my mom and dad talking about a lady my mom knows. She won't let anyone come to her house because she's the same way. I don't remember what she collects, but her house is pretty full, according to Mom. It's really sad.”

An instant later Melissa peeked over her shoulder. “We're a long way from Mr. Wallace's house, Colt. Did you see the box? And why did you take so long? We were getting worried. Then we heard that loud crash. Mr. Wallace bellowed like you'd broken his favorite treasure, and we figured you were done for. So tell us everything and don't leave a thing out!”

A dozen more strides brought them to the paddock area of the Blue Ribbon Barn, and they sank onto the grassy stretch and propped themselves against the wood rails. Colt plucked a blade of grass but only fiddled with it between his fingers. “When I left the kitchen, I headed down the hallway that leads from the kitchen to the living room. You probably noticed three doors along the hallway, right?”

They all nodded.

“Well, I could hear you girls clattering dishes and talking, and since Mr. Wallace is older, I figured his hearing might not be great, and it would be safe to open the first door, if I was super quiet. It was a bedroom.” He grunted. “You could see a bed and dresser, but I don't think the box was there. Boxes of stuff were piled on the bed and stacked against the wall. I didn't even go in. Full boxes blocked the closet door, and there was no place for Mrs. Ferris's box to be, so I left and tried the next door.”

Colt flicked the blade of grass away as if it annoyed him, then grabbed another one. “The next bedroom was his, but there was stuff in there too. But not as much, and the closet door was open. I tiptoed in and looked, but I've got to tell you, I felt terrible. It's not right to go into other people's bedrooms.” He stared at his shoes. “I didn't touch anything, and I didn't see the box, so I left. The last room was the bathroom, and it's tiny. Nothing in there either. In fact, I'm surprised Mr. Wallace showed any interest in ever buying that box. He doesn't have a single item that indicates he's a collector of anything but junk.”

“I wondered about that,” Melissa said. “He might even have a trace of Alzheimer's … especially since he doesn't remember he wanted to buy the box—or that he even saw it.”

Kate groaned. “That's awful! We made him let us into his house, snooped around, and then knocked over his stack of stuff.”

Tori smiled. “But he loved the cookies. And there's a good chance that by tomorrow, he won't remember we came anyway. I'm just glad no one got hurt. He was more upset about his papers getting disturbed than anything else. But we apologized already, and I don't think we should go back.”

“No chance.” Kate shook her head. “I'm never going there again if I can help it. But I do feel bad we thought he was the thief. Instead he's a lonely old man whose main interest in life is collecting junk. I'm going to tell Mom about him, and maybe she can invite him to church or have him over to our house for supper sometime.”

Melissa looked from one friend to the other. “You might be right that Mr. Wallace isn't the thief, but we'd better not rule him out. I mean, what's to say he wasn't faking? He could have Alzheimer's, but he also might have hidden the box and put on a great act.” She shrugged. “But I could be wrong. So now what? Colt got all those bruises for nothing, and no box. What's the next clue we're going to follow? Whatever it is, I sure hope it's safer and cleaner than this last one!”