Read Missing Pieces Online

Authors: Jerry B. Jenkins,Chris Fabry

Tags: #JUVENILE FICTION / Religious / Christian

Missing Pieces

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Missing Pieces

Copyright © 2005 by Jerry B. Jenkins. All rights reserved.

Cover and interior photographs copyright © 2004 by Brian MacDonald. All rights reserved.

Authors’ photograph © 2004 by Brian MacDonald. All rights reserved.

Designed by Jacqueline L. Nuñez

Edited by Lorie Popp

Published in association with the literary agency of Alive Communications, Inc., 7680 Goddard Street, Suite 200, Colorado Springs, CO 80920.

Scripture quotations are taken from the
Holy Bible,
New Living Translation, copyright © 1996, 2004 by Tyndale House Foundation. Used by permission of Tyndale House Publishers, Inc., Carol Stream, Illinois 60188. All rights reserved.

This novel is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the authors’ imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental and beyond the intent of either the authors or publisher.

For manufacturing information regarding this product, please call 1-800-323-9400.

Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data

Jenkins, Jerry B.

Missing pieces / Jerry B. Jenkins; Chris Fabry.

p. cm. — (Red rock mysteries)

Summary: Red Rock suffers a spate of “mailbox baseball” vandalism and twins Bryce and Ashley become witnesses.

ISBN 978-1-4143-0142-6 (softcover)

[1. Vandalism—Fiction. 2. Stepfamilies—Fiction. 3. Twins—Fiction. 4. Family life—Fiction. 5. Christian life—Fiction. 6. Mystery and detective stories.] I. Fabry, Chris, date. II. Title.

PZ7.J4138Mis 2005

[Fic]—dc22 2004030078

Contents

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

Chapter 23

Chapter 24

Chapter 25

Chapter 26

Chapter 27

Chapter 28

Chapter 29

Chapter 30

Chapter 31

Chapter 32

Chapter 33

Chapter 34

Chapter 35

Chapter 36

Chapter 37

Chapter 38

Chapter 39

Chapter 40

Chapter 41

Chapter 42

Chapter 43

Chapter 44

Chapter 45

Chapter 46

Chapter 47

Chapter 48

Chapter 49

Chapter 50

Chapter 51

Chapter 52

Chapter 53

Chapter 54

Chapter 55

Chapter 56

Chapter 57

Chapter 58

Chapter 59

Chapter 60

Chapter 61

Chapter 62

Chapter 63

Chapter 64

Chapter 65

Chapter 66

Chapter 67

Chapter 68

Chapter 69

Chapter 70

Chapter 71

Chapter 72

Chapter 73

Chapter 74

Chapter 75

Chapter 76

Chapter 77

Chapter 78

Chapter 79

Chapter 80

Chapter 81

Chapter 82

Chapter 83

Chapter 84

Chapter 85

Chapter 86

Chapter 87

Chapter 88

Chapter 89

Chapter 90

Epilogue

About the Authors

Chapter 1

This story is about a dead girl,
a dead dog, a dead mom, and lots of dead mailboxes, so if you don’t like dead things, stop reading right now.

For as long as I can remember, my mother has bought a new jigsaw puzzle every few months. She says it helps our family work together on at least one thing. The newest was a picture of a waterfall, nice and peaceful, unlike our lives the past few weeks.

When you first start a puzzle, it’s hard to imagine getting finished. But piece by piece it comes together, kind of like life. Well, some people’s lives. I don’t know if our lives will ever fit together. I can’t imagine what the picture would look like in the end.

But with all the dead things in this story, I think you’ll be surprised how much life came from it.

Chapter 2

As we set up the tent
in our backyard late Wednesday afternoon, I couldn’t get my mind off Ashley’s doctor’s appointment the next day. Ashley was having an EEG the next morning, and I was supposed to help her stay up. EEG stands for electro-something-or-other, but whatever it is, it scares her.

Sam grilled burgers and hot dogs on our back deck. (If you’re wondering why I call him Sam instead of Dad, it’s a long story. My real father was killed in a plane crash. Sam is our stepdad. I’ve called him Dad like twice, but Sam feels right to me.)

Dylan, our little brother, kept eating watermelon. Later he ran to the bathroom and stayed there most of the evening. He’s a funny little kid, and we all like having him around until he gets annoying.

We made a small campfire in a pit toward the back of the yard and roasted marshmallows, made s’mores, and watched the sun go down. Leigh, our older stepsister, showed up with her boyfriend, Randy. She was excited about her driver’s test next week. We joked about telling people to stay off the road.

“Leigh’s a good driver,” Mom said, looking her in the eye. “She’ll be fine.”

“Does that mean she can drive me to dance practice next week?” Ashley said.

Mom dipped her head and looked over the top of her glasses. “We’ll talk about that.”

Dylan came outside crying because he couldn’t camp out with Ashley and me. I told Mom we’d watch him until he fell asleep and then carry him inside. She tucked him in to his Scooby Doo sleeping bag.

“Don’t let the monsters get you,” Randy said before he and Leigh went inside.

“Ooh, good one, Randy,” I said, a cold wind whipping the tent flap.

A coyote yipped in the distance, and I glanced at the red rocks rising behind us. The air turned nippy as a crow flew overhead and cawed.

I was glad I didn’t have to have stuff stuck to my head the next day like Ashley, but being her twin, I felt bad for her.

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