Finders Keepers (13 page)

“Thanks, Christa.”

Mom's phone rang. “Hello? Oh, hi Shawn. How'd it go?… hmm … and what'd you say?… hmm … I see. Thank you for the update.”

I was afraid to hear her report. Bad news would be a sale. Bad news also would be no sale and my parents looking weighed down by their bills.

“What'd he say?” Dad asked.

Mom took a deep breath. “He said the boy from next door told them the cabin was infested with so many bats that his family couldn't sit outside at night. He told them the roof was falling in, and we were keeping it upright with bungee cords.”

Everyone looked at me.

“I didn't tell him to say those things. I swear!” I felt both anger and awe. “Sometimes I say I didn't do something wrong, and I even swear that I didn't do it, but I did. That's not what I'm doing right now. I double triple swear I never never never never asked Alex to say those things. I don't want you to have all those bills and maybe lose our house and our cars and be homeless.”

My eyes filled with sweat. Mom kissed the top of my head. “I believe you, honey.”

Dad reached across the table, gave my fist a squeeze, and said, “Don't worry, Christa. We're not going to lose our house. We're not going to be homeless. It's fine. Mom and I will always make sure you're taken care of, right?”

“Absolutely.” Mom put on a big smile. “This is just a bump in the road. Everything will be fine.”

“Maybe there will be a miracle, and we'll get a bunch of money,” I said.

“We don't need a miracle. Things will be fine without any miracles.” Dad used the word “fine” again. That's what made me think we
did
need a miracle.

I took a bite of my pizza to make them feel better and said, “Why would Alex say those things?”

“Close your mouth when you chew,” Amelia said. Then she smiled. “Alex said those things because he likes you and doesn't want you to leave, dummy.”

I thought about Alex and Quincy and Nan's grandsons, boys who might be real friends. “You're the dummy, Amelia.”

For once, I hoped she wasn't.

That night, just as I closed my eyes, there was a tap, tap, tap on the window screen. I sprang up and saw Alex peeking in the window. Our bedroom window was long, but narrow, and set high in the wall. My bunk was almost pressed against it.

“What are you doing?” I whispered even though I wanted to shout from the excitement of seeing him.

“I'm on a step stool trying to wake you up.”

I tipped my head upside down to check Amelia's bunk. She looked asleep. She wore earbuds and listened to music while she slept. I popped up and pressed my nose against the screen.

“Okay. I'm awake.”

He was quiet for a long time. “A person would have to be pretty mean to trick a friend into climbing something too tall.”

“The old hide-and-never-seek is pretty mean, too.”

He said, “Maybe I'm sorry.”

I said, “Maybe I'm sorry, too.”

We stayed nose-to-nose. I heard a buzz, and Alex slapped a mosquito on his forehead.

“Maybe I'm wondering if those boys who came over tonight were any fun.” I said it like I didn't care about his answer.

“Maybe they were fun and way nicer than Quincy and maybe one of them is in my grade. So what?”

“So now you've got two new friends, and I guess those are all the friends you need.” I crossed my arms.

Alex slapped another mosquito and scraped it off his cheek with his fingernail. “Maybe it's good to have extra friends because the friend who's the most fun doesn't even live here.”

His words stopped all the bad feelings.

“Oh,” I said. “That makes sense.”

“Well, that's all I wanted.”

“You could've told me this in the morning.”

“Sometimes I can't sleep when I'm thinking about stuff. I figured I'd stop thinking about it if I just, you know, did something. So I did and now I'm done. I'll see you tomorrow, okay?”

“Wait!” I smacked the screen. “I have so much to tell you. I asked Grumpa about the loot. Your great-grandma wanted to burn it because it was cursed, but Grumpa isn't sure if she did. He says she was always wondering if the curse would lift when Capone died. So I'm thinking, what if she returned it to Capone's hideout to stop the curse?”

“You think she gave it back?”

“Maybe she thought she could have it both ways. She could stop the curse by hiding the loot at Capone's. It was like giving it back, right? Then she waited for Capone to die. If the curse died with Capone, she could go get the money later.”

“But then she died before Capone.”

“Exactly! Alex, do you think we could find it? Because I do.”

“Me, too. I think we could.”

“We'll split the money.”

“Fifty-fifty. Finders keepers, Christa. We'll be the finders and the keepers.” Alex held up his hand, and I gave him a soft high five against the screen. “Tomorrow we go to Capone's.”

Alex got off the step stool, folded it, and dragged it across the lawn.

I pulled the sheet up to my chin and thought about finding the loot. My parents would pay all our bills and take down Shawn Weller's sign. There was a second plan, too. When we found all that cash, I was going to buy Grumpa his very own train set.

 

TRUSTED AND BUSTED

Alex and I waited for Grumpa to take his nap in the recliner. We had to search Al Capone's hideout for the loot, and we didn't have much time. When you're doing something you're not supposed to do, you need to do it
fast
. Torpedo fast.

That's why we didn't ride our bikes. We took the ATV.

We had helmets hiding our faces, so none of the people in cars seemed to notice we were young. Nobody honked or slowed down. We zipped through ditches and along the shoulder of the road, spitting gravel into the air. After we passed the gas station, Alex turned on the road that led to the hideout. The trees stretched across the road and formed a canopy. Weeds and brush were so thick along the ditch I couldn't see through the woods. A barbwire fence bordered the land. As we got closer to a lone driveway with a gate across it, I tapped Alex's shoulder.

The ATV spurted and stopped. “You sure this is it?” he asked. “There aren't any signs. I can't see a house or anything through these woods.”

“I'm sure. I used Amelia's phone to look it up. They took down the signs to keep people away.”

“Guess they didn't take down everything.” Alex pointed to a tree. A sign nailed in the trunk said,
Private property. Trespassers will be prosecuted
.

“Do you think the law respects the finders-keepers rule?”

Alex took off his helmet. “First things first. We can't keep unless we
find
.”

We belly crawled under the gate and took a few careful steps. The trees grew tight along the sides of the driveway, which took a sharp turn to the right. Our feet crunched against the gravel as we followed the crooked path. There wasn't any traffic, and we weren't goofing around, but in the woods even quiet is loud. Squirrels rustled the weeds. Cicadas buzzed and clicked. Chirping birds seemed to scold us from the trees.

“How far do you think it is?” Alex wondered.

“He had a lot of land. There's a private lake in here. The driveway could be really, really long.”

“Tons of adults have already searched this place. They've looked in all the obvious spots. We have to think different, think like Chase and Buck. We have to look in the places nobody else thought about.” I wasn't used to Alex—or Buck—taking charge. Chase and I were the charge-takers. He continued, “For starters, we need to look behind all the sinks.”

“Right. If your great-grandmother hid money in the wall behind the sink at your house, she might have done the same thing here.”

The driveway curved around a group of pine trees. Alex's careful steps turned into marching. “We've got to hurry. Grandpa will get up soon.”

“But he won't start looking for us right away,” I said. “Not for an hour at least. Maybe longer. Have you noticed he's not that interested in what we're up to?”

“Grandpa thinks we can take care of ourselves. My dad says Grandpa thinks kids are just little adults.” Alex stopped speaking and walking. “Did you hear that?”

“What?”

“Like something on the gravel.”

Then I heard it, too. The crunch of footsteps. I whirled around, but the pine trees blocked my view. Alex and I stopped, eyes big and shoulders tight. I grabbed his arm, and we darted into the brush and dropped to our bellies behind a fallen tree.

Alex's breath was coming hard and fast. I couldn't see over the log without lifting my head and giving away our hiding spot. I made a Chase-like move, rolling to the end of the fallen tree where the roots fanned out like spindly fingers. Carpenter ants, black and fat and as long as my thumbnail, scattered across the rotting trunk. I looked at Alex. His eyes were screwed shut.

A deep voice called, “Show yourself!”

I peeked through the roots. I could see black shoes and black pants, but his body was hidden by brush and a wide pine tree. The shoes moved two steps forward, and his hand came out from behind the pine tree. In his hand was a gun.

I stretched my leg toward Alex and gave him a kick to get his attention. When he opened his eyes, I put my thumb up and my pointer finger out, making the shape of a gun. He looked like he wanted to melt into the ground and disappear.

Once more I peeked through the roots. The man moved a few more feet, clearing the pine tree and stepping into the sunlight. A police officer. Sheriff Duncan. Every muscle in my body relaxed.

I mouthed the words to Alex: “Sheriff Duncan.”

“I've got the license plate off the ATV,” the sheriff shouted. “Show yourself now. I'll track down the licensed owner in my computer and then we'll have real trouble.”

Chase Truegood and Buck Punch would never surrender, but Chase and Buck weren't getting busted using an ATV with a licensed owner named Mr. Edmund Clark.

Alex raised his eyebrows at me. I raised mine back. He took a few breaths and cleared his throat. He squeaked, “Over here.”

Sheriff Duncan's head whipped toward us. “Stand up, slow and careful. Keep your hands up.”

Slow and careful we got to our knees, and then to our feet, with our hands pointing straight in the air. Sheriff Duncan shook his head and slipped his gun into its holster.

“Get out of the weeds. Now.”

We slopped through the brush, arms still in the air, and stood in front of him.

“Put your arms down.” His voice rumbled. “You're the kids from the bait shop. Alex Clark. What are you looking for out here, Alex Clark?”

The sheriff didn't seem interested in me at all, and for once I was okay not being noticed. “You're the second batch of trespassers I've chased out of here today. Couldn't catch the first, but they were teenagers. They run fast.” Teenagers? My mind went straight to Matt Fat-Splat and his buddy Travis. Matt was one step ahead of us. “Does your grandpa know you're out here looking for something? Did he send you?”

Alex shook his head.

“Listen, kid, your family's had enough trouble with Capone. I've lived here my entire life and know all about it. If there's something you know about Capone, you need to tell the authorities. Understand?”

Alex nodded.

Sheriff Duncan stared hard at Alex. He cleared his throat and said, “I saw the ATV. You have to be older than twelve
and
with an adult to be out on a road with an ATV. Did you know that?” Alex didn't have time to shrug because Sheriff Duncan kept talking. “Do you know how much trouble you could be in for trespassing? This is private property—”

Alex puked. Right then and right there. Right on Sheriff Duncan's shoes. The birds seemed to stop singing and stare at us. I cleared my throat and said, “Alex gets sick when he's really, really sorry.”

*   *   *

I'd always wanted to ride in a police car, but not like a criminal. Sheriff Duncan took us straight to Grumpa's. Alex and I sat on Grumpa's porch swing, quieter than two cotton balls rubbing together, while Grumpa leaned against Sheriff Duncan's car and talked to him through the window.

They talked and talked and stared at us all concerned. Finally, Sheriff Duncan's car backed out of the driveway, and Grumpa marched toward us.

“What in the unholy firestorms of hell were you doing at Capone's old place? What made you think you could take the ATV off this property? Do you know how lucky you are Duncan brought you here instead of writing tickets and dragging you to jail? Duncan hands out tickets like candy on Halloween.” Grumpa's eyes were ice. “What were you doing out there?”

Alex confessed. “Looking for Capone's loot.”

“Looking for loot? Hell's bells.” Grumpa pulled the fishing hat off his head and swatted the air. He stomped his foot, too, and sputtered. He opened the door to the house and let it slam behind him. I figured this is what an old person's temper tantrum looked like.

Thirty minutes later, we were still sitting on Grumpa's porch swing, too scared to get up, when Mr. Walt Miller's car pulled into the driveway. Grumpa stepped outside and waved at him.

Mr. Walt Miller got out of the car, gave a salute, and flashed his creepy smile. “At your service, Ed. Always ready to help a Clark in trouble. Because there's always a Clark in trouble.” Grumpa scowled, but Mr. Walt Miller laughed.

Grumpa turned to us and said, “He's taking me out to get that ATV. You stay put. I don't care if a tornado siren goes off. I don't care if Godzilla comes out of the woods. I don't care if an asteroid hits the Earth. Don't leave this porch.”

We nodded.

Grumpa barked, “Christa!”