The Super Spies and the High School Bomber (16 page)

Lacey sighed. “I'm glad tomorrow is Saturday.”

“Me, too.” Sarah brushed her hair away from her face. “I wonder how long it will take them to rebuild the school.”

“I have no idea.”

The girls grew quiet as they drank their sodas. Sarah's mind wandered back to the events of the last couple of days. As always, the nagging questions invaded her mind.
What are terrorists doing in Harrisburg
?
Why are they after my family
? Her stomach fluttered. She took another drink of soda and almost choked on it when the sound of the telephone startled her.

Lacey answered it. “Hello… Yeah, she's right here.” She handed the phone to her sister. “It's Jackie.”

Sarah grabbed the phone. “Hey.”

“Hey, girlfriend. How are you feeling?”

“Better, I slept for five hours.”

“Good, you needed it. Any more news on your uncle?”

Sarah frowned. “Not yet. Aunt June went back up to the hospital, but she hasn't called or anything.” Her voice cracked and her eyes welled with tears. She blinked quickly and pressed her lips into a tight line, hoping to get her emotions under control.

“He's going to be all right,” Jackie said.

“Yeah.”

“What do you think about those FBI agents?” Jackie snickered.

A wave of gratitude swept over Sarah. She knew Jackie was trying to get her mind off her uncle.

“Well, they need to come up with a better disguise.” Sarah chortled. “I mean, I'm only in ninth grade and I could tell they were FBI agents.”

Jackie's laugh boomed through the phone. “Yeah, good thing they're not the fashion police. Can you imagine all of us dressed in gray and black?”

Sarah's spirits lifted. She couldn't imagine Jackie donning such drab colors and she snickered at the image. “I can just see you wearing gray. You'd be so depressed.”

“True. Gray is the most depressing color. At least black has some mystery attached to it.”

“You can say that again.”

“Gray is the most depressing—“

“I get it.”

“So what do we do now?” Jackie asked.

“We've got to find out if those men are terrorists.” Sarah frowned and picked at some dried sauce congealing on the table.

“They don't look like terrorists.”

“How do you know? Have you ever seen one?”

Jackie sighed. “No, but they look like regular people.”

“Yeah. I'll have Lacey call Scott and see if they came up with anything down at the station.”

“Good idea. Call me back.”

“I will. Bye, Jackie.”

“Bye.”

Sarah disconnected the call and looked at her sister. “Have you talked to Scott lately?”

Lacey shook her head. “Nope.”

“Do you want to call him and see if he found out anything?”

“Yeah.” Lacey jumped up and grabbed the phone. “I'll let you know.”

She scurried down the stairs and Sarah heard her sister close the bedroom door. She smirked.
So, she wants to talk to him in private. Hmmm
.

Sarah grabbed her soda can and walked into the den. Turning on a couple of table lamps, she glanced at the windows and shivered. She hated that she couldn't see outside. It gave her the willies.

She sat down in the recliner and pushed the power button on the remote. The screen flickered with life and the image of a news anchor came into view. Sarah flipped through the channels, but didn't find anything of interest.

Her mind wandered.
Who are these men
?
Why did they bomb the high school?
Sarah drummed her fingers on the arm of the chair. She stood and walked toward her uncle's office.

Sarah turned on the light and surveyed the room. The soft glow created a cozy atmosphere. Bookshelves lined the walls. They were filled with her uncle's favorite books. His desk stood across from the door. It was solid oak and Sarah knew it had been her grandfather's, and his father's before him.

Since the windows were boarded up, no air circulated in the office. Sarah walked over and fiddled with a board, hoping to free it and let some air inside. The board loosened then gave way with a splinter. A tiny sliver of cool air filtered in and raised goose bumps on her arms.

Satisfied with the temperature, Sarah sat in her uncle's chair. It squeaked, protesting her weight and she shifted her position. Catching a whiff of her uncle's aftershave, tears welled in Sarah's eyes. Wiping them with the back of her hand, she leaned forward and turned on the computer. It beeped to life and Sarah signed in. She found her search engine and began to search.

The first thing she looked up was ‘terrorist.' Sarah wanted to know what one was. She had an idea, but she wanted a clear definition. She chose the
Dictionary.com definition
, which read:
a person, usually a member of a group, who uses or advocates terrorism.

Sarah rolled her eyes.
Now, I've got to look up ‘terrorism.'

She backed out of the ‘terrorist' definition and typed ‘terrorism.' Pressing enter, she waited for the computer to do its magic. It listed a variety of definitions and Sarah chose the
Dictionary.com
definition again, which stated:
The use of violence and threats to intimidate or coerce, especially for political purposes.

Sarah groaned.
Is this whole bombing about politics?

The sound of someone opening the front door caught Sarah's attention.
Aunt June
.

She turned the computer off and walked toward the living room and found her aunt in the hallway.

“Hi, sweetheart,” her aunt said in a weary voice.

“Hi. How's Uncle Walt?”

Sarah scrutinized her aunt. Her eyes had dark circles under them and her lips were chapped. The worry frown had become a permanent feature.

“No change.”

Sarah stared at the floor. She didn't know what to say. Her lip trembled and her eyes welled with tears.

Aunt June put her arms around Sarah, hugging her fiercely. “Everything's going to be all right.”

Sarah sobbed and nodded. “Yeah.” She pulled away from her aunt and sniffled, wiping her eyes on her sleeve. “Uncle Walt's tough.”

“That's right, and the doctors told me this isn't uncommon for someone who's had a head injury.”

Aunt June put her hand under Sarah's chin and forced her to look her in the eye. She gave her a tired smile. “Keep your chin up. Your uncle wouldn't want you crying about this, you know.”

Sarah gave her aunt a tremulous smile. “I know.”

“Where's Lacey?”

“She's down in our bedroom, talking to Scott.”

“Did you eat something?”

“Yes.”

Aunt June sighed and her shoulders slumped. “I'm beat. I'm going to bed, so I can get to the hospital early tomorrow.”

“Yeah, I'm going to hit the sack soon, too.”

“Don't stay up too late.”

“I won't.” Sarah cracked a grin.
Why do adults always say that, when they know we're going to do the opposite of what they say?

She watched her aunt disappear up the stairs. She moved slowly, as if each step sucked the energy from her body.

Sarah ambled into the kitchen and grabbed another soda. Glancing at the clock, she realized it was a quarter to eleven. She wanted to call Jackie back and rushed toward the stairs.

She met Lacey just outside their bedroom door. “Are you off the phone?”

“Yeah.”

“Did you find out anything?”

Lacey brushed the hair out of her eyes. “Yeah, they've got a list of the people in Harrisburg with license plates beginning with GLF. They're starting the search for them tomorrow.”

“That's it?” Sarah frowned.

“No.” Lacey smirked. “They found a print on the cell phone you found in the firefighter's jacket.”

“Anything else?”

“Yeah. All the jackets were accounted for when they did an inventory.”

“That means whoever was wearing that jacket was not a fireman.”

“Yep.” Lacey glanced up the stairs. “Is Aunt June home?”

“Yeah, she's going up to bed.”

“I'm going to run up and say goodnight to her.”

“Okay, I'm calling Jackie back.” Sarah grabbed the phone from her sister and dashed into the bedroom.

Plopping down on the bed, she called her friend's cell phone.

Jackie answered on the first ring. “Hey, girlfriend.”

Sarah laughed. “How'd you know it was me?”

“My phone tells me the phone number of who's calling.”

“Cool.”

“Yeah, it's a great way to screen calls. So…did you find out anything?”

Sarah sighed, and reported to Jackie what Lacey had told her.

“Hmmm,” Jackie said when Sarah finished.

“I looked up on the Internet and found out what a terrorist is.” Sarah moved the phone to her other ear and shifted her position on the bed.

Jackie laughed. “You mean you didn't know? And you're the brains of this group?”

Sarah giggled. “Well, I had an idea, but I wanted to make sure.”

“So, what is it?”

Sarah snorted. “You mean, you don't know?”

“I just want to make sure you have your facts straight.”

“Well, they're usually a member of a group who uses violence for political purposes. Are there any groups like that in Harrisburg?”

There was a pause. Sarah knew Jackie was thinking.

“Not that I know of…but I wouldn't know that kind of thing, you know?”

“Yeah.” Sarah paused. “You know who might know?”

“No, I don't.”

“You know… a certain infamous retired investigative reporter who resides right here in Harrisburg, Michigan.” Sarah snickered.

Jackie gasped. “You're right. Scoop Davis, he knows everything.”

“And if he doesn't, he can find out. I'll call him in the morning. Maybe we can set up a meeting.” Sarah glanced down and inspected the cuts on her legs.

“Sounds like a plan, girlfriend.”

“I'll call you tomorrow.”

“Okay, bye,” Jackie said.

Sarah disconnected the call and yawned.
I'm definitely going to sleep tonight.

Lacey walked through the door. “Hey.”

“Hey, Lace. How's Aunt June?”

“Tired.”

Sarah nodded and then a smile crept across her face as she watched her sister prepare for bed. “So…what's the scoop on you and Scott?”

A blush spread over Lacey's face and she stared at the floor and shrugged. “What do ya mean?”

Sarah's smile spread into a wide grin. “
You
know what I mean.”

“We're friends…that's all.”

“Yeah, right.”

Lacey giggled and whirled away from her sister as she undressed and put on her flower print pajamas. “There's nothing to tell.”

“Spill it, little sister.”

Lacey giggled self-consciously. “We like each other.”

“I knew it.” Sarah pounded her bed with her fist as a triumphant grin spread over her face. “So are you guys…like…boyfriend…girlfriend?” Her head swayed with her words, teasing her sister.

Lacey laughed again. “Yep. He asked me to go to the first school dance.”

“That isn't, like, for another month.”

“Well, I guess he wanted to make sure no one else asked me.” Lacey's blush deepened and she crawled under her covers. “I'm going to sleep. Can you turn off the light?”

“Yeah.” Sarah stood and walked toward the switch. She saw her clothes lying in a heap on the floor. Picking them up, she frowned; her shorts seemed heavy. Puzzled, Sarah went through her pockets and pulled out the black cell phone she had taken from the green truck.

Her body felt electrified with shock. “Oh no!”

Lacey sat up. “What? What's the matter?”

Sarah turned toward her sister. “Remember how I told you that Jackie and I were in the bomber's truck?”

“Yeah?”

“Well, I accidentally took their cell phone.”

“Are you kidding me?” Lacey asked.

“Yeah. This is one big joke.” Sarah glared at her sister. “Sometimes you ask the stupidest questions.”

“Shut up, Sarah. Sometimes you do the stupidest things. I mean, really, you took their cell phone?”

“Shut up, Lacey.”

“They're going to come looking for it.” Lacey stared at her sister—her eyes wide and filled with fear.

Another jolt of shock ran through Sarah's body. Her fingertips seemed to tingle and the hair on the back of her neck prickled. “I have to get this to the FBI. It might have fingerprints on it.”

“You're right.”

“I have to go right now.”

“Now? It's almost midnight,” Lacey groaned.

“I know, but they need this right away. It's evidence.” Sarah pulled on her shorts and sniffed her shirt. “Ewww, I'll need a clean shirt.”

“Can't you just call and have them pick it up?”

Sarah shook her head. “No, if they come here, they'll wake up Aunt June. Then I'll have to explain how I got it. Aunt June will ground me for sure.”

“I can't believe you're going now.” Lacey grimaced, then threw her covers to the side and climbed out of bed.

“What are you doing?” Sarah demanded.

“I'm coming with you.”

“No way.”

“Way.”

“You're not coming with me. It's pitch black outside.”

“You're not going alone,” Lacey insisted.

Sarah sighed. She knew better than to argue with her sister when she used that tone of voice. “Well, you better get dressed.”

“Yep. It's probably chilly. I'm going to wear a sweatshirt.”

Sarah pursed her lips. “Yeah, that's a good idea.”

Lacey walked to her dresser and pulled a bright pink sweatshirt out of her drawer and slipped it over her head.