The Fossil Hunter of Sydney Mines (20 page)

They looked at one another hesitantly. No one seemed to want to be the first one to go in.

“Well, at least there's a ladder,” Fred joked. The narrow metal rungs of the ladder were bent in spots and covered with the same rust-stained paint as the wheelhouse door.

“You go, Fred,” Mai ordered. “It
was
your idea. I'll stand watch and look after Grace.”

“Yeah, I guess it was my idea, huh?” Fred rubbed his hands together and stretched them over his head. He bent his knees as if warming up before a run. “All right, but if it's filled with gold—or money—I won't be sharing!” Flashing a toothy smile at them, he scrambled down the ladder and disappeared. “But I'll invite you over to swim in the pool in my millionaire mansion!” His words echoed up from below.

“Nut bar,” Mai muttered. She kneeled at the edge of the hatch opening, looking down. “Are you all right?” she called.

“Yeah,” Fred replied. “There's nothing down here.”

“Then get back up here,” Mai ordered.

“Wait, there's a door over in the corner,” Fred called. “It looks like it's for a storage room or freezer or something like that.”

“What's in it?” Mai asked.

“Can't tell,” said Fred. “It's locked, too. Toss me down that crowbar and I'll try the hinges.”

Mai dropped the crowbar into the hole. It clanged loudly on the floor below. All of a sudden light illuminated the hold. “Sweet!” Fred said. “There's power down here.”

“That's strange,” Mai said. “Why would there be power if there isn't even a rad—”

“I hear a voice! Someone's in there!” Fred hollered suddenly, cutting Mai off. “A
prisoner
!”

Chapter
27

POUNDING DRUMS BEAT PAINFULLY IN GRACE'S CHEST. HER HEAD
was spinning as she grabbed the top rung of the ladder.

“Grace, your arm!” Mai's voice was full of concern. “Here, I'll help you.”

Grace kept going. Sharp pains ripped up her arm to her shoulder.

“Over here,” Fred called to Grace from the far side of the hold. “I can't get these hinges off. They aren't as rusted as the other ones. We'll need a screwdriver.”

Grace raced to the door and pounded on it. “Who are you?” she cried.
Could it be him?

“You won't be able to hear any words,” Fred said. “The noise is too muffled by the door.”

Grace pressed her ear to the cold metal door. She
could
hear noises inside. Someone was definitely in there.

“Here,” Mai said, panting as she reached the bottom of the ladder. “I didn't know what kind you needed, so I brought everything I could find.” She dumped an array of screwdrivers onto the floor.

Fred bent down, rummaged through the pile, and selected one with an x-shaped top and a blue handle. “This might work.”

Grace paced back and forth as Fred worked on the hinges. “Fred, come on.”

“I'm trying,” he grunted.

Grace pulled at the lock and bolt. They were new too, like the one on the hatch up on deck. “Open!” she screamed, banging the lock with the heel of her hand. It didn't budge.

“Fred, hurry up!”

“Give me a break, Grace!” Fred wiped the sweat from his forehead with his sleeve. “I'm going as fast as I can!”

Grace banged at the door again, ignoring the pain in her arm.

“Stop it!” Mai said. “You'll hurt yourself even more.”

“It could be my dad in there,” Grace sobbed. “I have to get in. He could be
alive!
”

“What about a key?” Mai said.

“I couldn't find a key anywhere,” Fred answered.

“That's because I have it,”
a voice said behind them.

All three of them whirled around. Rick Stanley stood at the foot of the ladder. Fred pulled Mai and Grace behind him and backed them against the door.

“You!” Grace said. “My dad's in that room, isn't he?” Her emotions were raging like a tornado inside her. “You
kidnapped
him?”

“Listen, I'm not the bad guy!” Rick said.

“You have to let me see him!” Grace's legs were wobbling.

“It's not that simple,” Rick said, taking another step closer. He reached into one of his pockets. “It's the people I work with.”

“Please!”
Grace begged. “Open the door!” She moved toward Stanley but Mai gripped her arm and held her back. “Mai, let me go!” she shouted.

“Grace, don't,” Mai begged.

Grace struggled to escape Mai's hold. “He could be hurt. I have to see him.”

“He's fine,” Stanley said. “What do you think I am? A barbarian?” He took a step closer to Grace. “I'm the one who saved him. They would have killed him if I hadn't staged that car accident.”

“What do you mean?” Grace said. As she spoke, she noticed something moving on the ladder above Stanley's head. Hiking-boot-clad feet slowly stepped onto the rungs. She recognized the cuffs of Jeeter's cargo pants.

“He found out about Sandstar dumping the toxic waste. He didn't get it—you can't mess with these guys.” Stanley took his hand from his pocket.

Grace's stomach churned. She could taste vomit at the back of her throat. Did Stanley have a gun? Was he going to kill them?

Instead, Stanley pulled out a pack of cigarettes and stuck one between his lips. Relief flooded through Grace.

Stanley bent his head forward to light his cigarette. As the flame leapt from his lighter, Jeeter descended several more rungs on the ladder.

“Why are you asking all these questions?” Stanley asked, taking a drag on his cigarette. “You must know everything already. You sent me that note.”

“What note?”

“Oh, please,” he said. “Don't act all innocent! The note you put in my mailbox.
I know what you did to
Jonathan Campbell
, it said. That's why I had to mess with your mother's car and get invited to dinner at your house. I had to try and see if there was any evidence in Jonathan's office about the dumping. I never found anything at the museum. I figured since you only sent that note now, after all this time, that you must have just found something. But then why didn't you go right to the police? That, I didn't get. What did you find? Photos? What?”

A note in
his
mailbox?
“I don't know what you're talking about,” Grace said. “I got a note in my locker saying it wasn't an accident and there was an envelope with your name on it.”

Stanley looked as confused as Grace felt.
What was
going on here?

“Grace didn't send you the note,” Jeeter growled from behind Stanley. “
I
did!”

Stanley spun around to face Jeeter. At that exact moment, Jeeter pounced on his chest, knocking him to the ground.

Grace watched in horror as Jeeter and Stanley fought, rolling around on the floor. Jeeter didn't stand a chance—Stanley was a lot bigger than him. She winced as Stanley punched Jeeter in the ribs.

We have to do something!
Grace panicked.

As if he'd read her mind, Fred raced past her and jumped on top of Stanley. “Let him go, you creep!” he yelled.

Grace picked up the crowbar and tossed a screwdriver to Mai. “Let's go!” she hollered, racing over to the mass of arms and legs writhing around on the floor.

Mai swung her screwdriver.

“Ouch!” Fred cried. “Not me! Get the bad guy!” He grunted as Stanley elbowed him in the chest—hard. He rolled off to the side, trying to catch his breath.

Stanley lunged at Jeeter and grabbed him by the shirt. Jeeter took a wild swing at him, connecting with his jaw.

“Umph!” Stanley moaned, kicking Jeeter in the shin.

Fred got to his feet and charged back into the fray. But he tripped, accidentally knocking Jeeter to the ground. Stanley pounced on top of Jeeter, pinning him to the floor. Jeeter was squirming and kicking, but he couldn't get free.

Holding her breath, Grace brought the crowbar down on Stanley's back as hard as she could.

CRACK!

“Uhhh,” Stanley moaned. He went limp and rolled to the floor.

Jeeter pushed him away. “Thanks, guys,” he said, panting and pressing a hand to his ribs.

“No problemo, Jeetman!” Fred said, helping Jeeter to his feet. The two boys exchanged a look of silent truce.

Grace bent down to search Stanley's pockets. “Here it is!” she said, holding up a key with trembling fingers.

She ran to the door and tried to unlock it. Her hands were shaking uncontrollably. “I can't get the key in the lock!” she cried.

“Let me help,” Mai murmured beside her. She laid a steadying hand over Grace's and they turned the key together.

Chapter
28

THE LOCK CLICKED OPEN. GRACE HELD HER BREATH AND SLOWLY
pushed the door inward.

Her dad was sitting on a small cot inside the storage room, his legs cuffed to a thick steel ring in the floor. His hair was ruffled and he was dressed in rumpled clothes that looked two sizes too big for him. The air in the room was stale and cold.

“Grace?” he croaked. He stretched his arms out toward her. “My word, is that really you? Am I dreaming?”

Grace raced to his side and threw her arms around him, ignoring the pain that flared in her injured arm. “Dad!” she cried. She buried her face in his chest.

“It's okay, Gracie,” he soothed as he rocked her back and forth. “You found me…I thought I was buried for good.”

Grace held him tighter. “I thought you were dead,” she sobbed. He felt so thin and frail. She never wanted to let him go.

“I'll be okay now—thanks to you.” He pried her gently away from him and looked up at her and Mai. “How did you kids find me?”

Grace stared up at her dad. His eyes were rimmed with red and his face looked pinched and pale. Uneven grey stubble covered his chin.

CRASH!

A loud bang came from outside the storage room. “Oh no you don't!” Fred yelled. There were more sounds of a scuffle and then Fred's sweaty face appeared in the doorway.

“Good news, Grace. Stanley woke up and he's not dead. So you're not a murderer.” Fred smiled weakly, but he looked scared. “Don't worry, we've got him under wraps,” he added, holding up a roll of duct tape. “Get it? Duct tape? Under
wraps
?”

“You're making jokes?” Mai shrieked. “He could be a murderer!”

Fred gulped and looked behind him, then gave a shaky thumbs-up.

Jeeter appeared beside him in the doorway. “Grace, we should get your dad out of those cuffs.”

“Oh, right,” Grace said. She reluctantly relinquished her grip on her dad's hand so she could pass the keys to Jeeter. Part of her thought he might be a dream and that he'd disappear if she let go.