Grave Shadows (4 page)

Chapter 11

We rode our brakes the rest of the way
and avoided loose rocks. After talking with Jeff, I was going to finish the ride no matter what.

We waved good-bye to Ashley and Hayley and headed for Jeff’s house. The training we had gone through the past two weeks had made my legs stronger, and it felt like I was really getting into shape. Don’t get me wrong. I wasn’t about to go on the Tour de France, but I knew I would do better at higher altitudes.

We parked the tandem bike in Jeff’s garage, washed the dirt off, and made sure it was oiled.

Mrs. Alexander called Jeff inside for his medicine. “Bryce, I wanted to tell you of a development,” she said when he was gone.

“Development?”

She sat on a lawn chair and lowered her voice. “We have a room set aside for some of the things Jeff’s been given. Signed baseballs, autographs . . .”

I had seen the room. People had sent him pictures, tickets, and memorabilia I was sure were worth lots of money. Even one of Barry Bonds’ record-breaking home-run baseballs.

“Some of the most expensive items are missing,” she said.

“Missing?”

She nodded. “We told Jeff we’re having the carpet cleaned and locked the door so he wouldn’t see.”

“Who would take that stuff?”

She shook her head. “We were hoping you might help. We don’t want Jeff to know—he’ll be gone for the bike trip in a couple of days.”

“So will I. Maybe Ashley can help. When did you notice the things missing?”

Mrs. Alexander guessed the thefts had happened within the past two days. “We’ve had people bringing food, a woman to do some housework, people like that.”

“Any of Jeff’s friends?”

She was about to answer when Jeff came back into the garage. She smiled at him.

“Mom, you should have seen us today. We’re going to make this trip in record time.”

I felt good that Jeff was so positive, but all I could think was, who would have stolen a sick kid’s memorabilia?

Chapter 12

Bryce set a list in front of me
that Mrs. Alexander had given him of the things she knew were missing.

John Elway signed football

Framed letters from several movie stars, including Tom Hanks and Tom Cruise

Barry Bonds home-run ball

Signed riding bib from Lance Armstrong

Hockey puck from the Colorado Avalanche

Signed basketball from Denver Nugget Carmelo Anthony

I blew air through my lips. “Somebody had to back a truck up for all this stuff.”

“It’s an armload,” Bryce said. “I think they passed the stuff out through the window.”

“They?”

“Could be one person, I guess,” he said. “But it’s a lot of stuff.”

“Could somebody climb inside through the window?”

Bryce shook his head. “They keep it locked. But if somebody opened it from the inside, they could let someone else in.”

Bryce and I talked of how he could get information from Jeff while on their bike trip without tipping him off that his things had been stolen.

“I’m going to help Hayley with her missing cousin while you’re gone,” I said.

“Two cases at once,” Bryce said. “Think you can handle it?”

“I’m sure going to try.”

Chapter 13

After church, Sam drove me to Jeff’s house.
We were supposed to go supply shopping for the trip, but he told Jeff he had a surprise.

“What is it?” Jeff said.

“You’ll see,” Sam said, winking at Mrs. Alexander.

She slipped me a sheet of paper when we arrived. When we left I let Jeff sit in the front so I could open the paper in the backseat, out of his sight.

Several names were on the sheet, people who had been in the house over the past week. I recognized Denise, a flute player in the band. There was a volunteer nurse and a few people from their church. I penciled in Boo Heckler just because he was such a nasty kid. He’d been sent to juvenile detention not long ago, but I’d heard he was already out.

Jeff turned around. “Whatcha reading?”

“Nothing to speak of,” I said, stuffing the paper in my pocket.

Sam still wouldn’t tell us where we were going, but when we headed north on I-25 I guessed he was taking us to his airplane hangar. Sam’s a charter pilot, flying people wherever they need to go. Sometimes they’re celebrities or athletes, or it could be businesspeople or whoever can afford it. I keep hoping he’ll be asked to fly a famous preacher or evangelist so they’ll say something that will make him become a Christian.

Sam was showing us his plane when he said, “Buckle up,” and he climbed into the cockpit.

Jeff’s eyes grew wide. “Are you actually taking us up?”

Sam smiled. “Want to show you something.”

Chapter 14

Hayley’s aunt looked like one of those old Victorian writers
my mom has a picture of on the wall of her office. Brown hair framing a narrow face. Long nose. Thin lips. Brown eyes that seem to pierce you.

She invited us inside but didn’t offer us anything to eat or drink like my mom would do. The house was cluttered with magazines and newspapers.
Disheveled.
That’s a word from a book we read in English. The house wasn’t a rat’s nest, but it was close.

“Ashley wants to help us find Gunnar,” Hayley said.

The woman’s face fell.

I heard scratching from the other room. Hayley opened the door and let a little dog out. She came right to me and bared her teeth—not that she was going to bite, more like she was smiling.

“That’s right, Jenny,” Hayley’s aunt said. “Say hello to Ashley.”

Jenny nuzzled my hand and sat by my side.

The woman repeated the story. Gunnar had phoned work in Colorado Springs to say he was running late, then never showed up. “He sells pool tables and those hot tub things,” she said. “He was always reliable, always on time as far as I know. I’m worried sick about him.”

“Did he act strange before he disappeared?” I said. “Nervous or upset?”

“Not that I remember. He said he might look for a new job that paid more, but he wouldn’t just run off because of that.”

“What about his friends?” I said.

“He still has friends from high school,” she said, looking at Hayley. “You remember the Baldwin boy, Darren. They’d go to ball games together. But he seemed . . .” She got a far-off look in her eyes.

“What? This might help.”

“He just seemed preoccupied—spacey. Like there was something going on he didn’t want me to know about. He always took good care of Jenny, so when he left her locked up, I got suspicious. That was almost two weeks ago.” She held a tissue to her face.

“Where is his room?” I said.

“He has an apartment over the garage,” Hayley said.

“Mind if we take a look, ma’am?” I said.

The woman waved, and we walked outside through gravel to the detached garage. I wondered what a 20-something guy was doing still living at home with his mom. I want to move out as soon as I’m 18.

His apartment was like a poster for tornado damage. Double disheveled. Clothes piled on a ratty couch, dog hair everywhere, dishes in the sink. Trash can overflowing.

“What if he comes back and finds us?” Hayley said.

“How could he find us in all this?” I said, looking through mail stacked on a small desk. I searched for any kind of clue—a doctor’s report that he had some incurable disease, medicine that would knock him out, signs of a struggle—but I came up empty. Talking with Gunnar’s high school pal might be a start.