The Super Spies and the High School Bomber (30 page)

The building was a long one-story structure with no windows. It had drab brown siding and Sarah got the feeling this was not a fun place to work. She'd never been inside a factory before, but she knew she'd hate to be trapped inside a building all day and not be able to see outside.

“Can we just go in and talk to him?” she asked.

Scoop shook his head. “No. I'm going inside to find out when his shift ends. We can talk to him then. You kids stay in the car.”

“All right.” Sarah sighed heavily and leaned her head back against the seat.

“I wonder what's going on with the FBI?” Jackie asked.

“I could call my dad and find out,” Scott offered.

Lacey beamed at him. “That would be awesome.”

Sarah nudged Jackie and rolled her eyes.

Jackie snickered and put her finger down her throat pretending to puke.

Scott glanced back at the girls—they quickly resumed their nonchalant positions.

“It'll be just a second,” he said with a perplexed look. He opened his phone and punched in his dad's number. He paused and listened.

“Dad? How's the investigation going?”

Scott listened, occasionally nodding and saying okay.

He closed his phone and cleared his throat. “Okay, this is what I found out.” He shifted in his seat and faced all three girls. “They still don't have the bombers, but they know who Randy Ferguson is and they're searching his house and questioning his friends.”

“So, do they have any new info?” Sarah asked.

Scott pursed his lips. “Well they ran the print that they lifted off of the cell phone through AFIS, but didn't get a hit. And they found some sweat on that fireman's jacket, but DNA analysis takes about two weeks to get the results back.”

Sarah groaned and looked up. “This is so-o frustrating. I mean the bombers are still at large and we don't even know why they did it.”

Jackie nodded and squeezed Sarah's arm. “They're closing in on them.”

“What's AFIS?” Lacey asked in a voice filled with awe.

Scott puffed up his chest. “It's the acronym for the Automated Fingerprint Identification System.”

“Oh, you're so smart,” Lacey gushed.

Sarah and Jackie looked at each other and pretended to vomit.

“Shut up,” Scott said giving the girls a disgusted look.

Scoop returned to the car. Anxious to hear his news, Sarah moved to the edge of her seat. Jackie followed Sarah's lead, and both girls peered at Scoop as he climbed in.

He closed his door and shifted to face all the Super Spies. “Well, Ken gets off at three o'clock. The employees park behind the building. I thought we could wait for him by his vehicle.”

“What does he drive?” Sarah asked.

Scoop eyed her with a grim expression. “A green pickup truck.”

Alarmed, Sarah stared at Jackie, before she leaned over the back of the front seat. “For real?”

“Yes, according to the receptionist he bought the truck yesterday.”

“How does she know that?” Jackie asked.

“She knows, because she's dating him.”

Tingles of dread ran through Sarah's veins and her throat tightened. “Oh no! We have to tell the FBI! The bombers have a new car!” She stared at Scott. “Call your dad. The Fibbies are looking for the wrong truck!”

“Unless Ken Daniels is the real criminal.” Jackie stared at Sarah with a horrified expression.

Sarah shook her head. “I don't think so. He just bought the truck yesterday. The bombing was three days ago.”

“Scott, call your dad.” Scoop's voice was low and tense.

Without a word, Scott pulled his phone out and punched in his dad's number a second time.

While Scott spoke with the Chief, Sarah faced Jackie. She took in her friend's shocked expression and grabbed her arm. “Jackie, that means the bombers could be anywhere.”

“No doubt.” Jackie gulped and pulled nervously on her curls.

“Maybe we can find out from Ken what kind of vehicle Randy Ferguson bought,” Lacey said.

Sarah pulled on the hem of her shirt with a trembling hand. “Good idea.”

Her thoughts turned to her uncle. He was lying helpless in the hospital. Another jolt of fear ran through her body as she realized all Randy Ferguson needed was a clever disguise to get back inside the institution.

Fidgeting in her seat, Sarah moaned and prayed the police would get the new information before it was too late.

 

 

Scoop drove his car around the building and searched for the green pickup.

“There it is.” He pointed to the rickety vehicle parked in the back. Glancing at his watch, he said, “We've got just a few minutes before his shift is over. Let's sit and wait for him.” Scoop parked his car next to the pickup.

Sarah glanced at Scott. “What did your dad say?”

“He's letting the agents know right away. Don't worry. It's a top priority.” Scott fidgeted in his seat. “I thought for sure we were in trouble. My dad asked me how I knew all this stuff.”

“What'd you say?” Lacey asked.

“I told him Scoop told us. He can't be mad about that.” Scott grinned.

“You got that right,” Sarah said as she glanced anxiously out the window. “You realize that Randy Ferguson could come up with some disguise and slip into the hospital.”

Scott glanced at Sarah. “I know, but the FBI is trained for this.”

Lacey whimpered. “Oh no! That means Uncle Walt is in danger again!”

Scott turned and whispered to Lacey. Sarah couldn't hear what was said, but his tone was soothing. Gratitude filled her heart. She didn't know what she would have done if Scott hadn't been there to take care of her sister.

She stared at the building, willing the workers to hurry and leave. All she wanted to do was find out what kind of car the bomber was driving. Tears of frustration pricked at the corners of her eyes. She stared out the side window and blinked rapidly, hiding them.

After what seemed like hours, people started trickling from the building. Sarah watched as they ambled toward their cars. A spark of anger ignited in her belly.
They walk like they don't have a care in the world, while my uncle sits up in the hospital recovering from a bombing. It isn't fair
. Angry tears welled in her eyes and spilled down her cheeks.
I can't wait to get Randy Ferguson
.
He's a total worm
. Clenching her hands, Sarah asked, “What does this guy look like?”

Scoop shrugged. “I don't know. We'll have to wait until he climbs in the truck.”

Sarah clenched her teeth.
I hate waiting
.

Jackie reached over and squeezed her hand. “Hang in there, girlfriend.”

Sarah squeezed back but said nothing. She stared out the window, eyeing every male employee walking out of the building, wondering which one was Ken Daniels.

Finally, after what seemed like hours a squat man walked toward the green pickup. He climbed in and set his lunch box next to him.

Just as he closed his door, Scoop dashed from his car and knocked on his window.

Startled, Ken jumped. Scoop motioned for him to roll down his window.

Ken hesitated and then rolled it down. “Yes?”

“Jack, roll down your window,” Sarah whispered.

Lacey nudged Scott and both he and Jackie inched their windows down so everyone could hear the conversation.

“I hear you're a friend of Randy Ferguson?” Scoop asked.

“That's right. Is Randy okay?”

“We were kind of wondering the same thing. Have you heard from him?”

Ken nodded. “Yeah, I bought this truck from him yesterday.”

“Really.” Scoop paused and studied the truck. “It's a beauty. What made him sell it?”

“I don't know. I asked him if there was something wrong with it. You know, it was just out of the blue that he wanted to sell it.”

Scoop shoved his hands in his pockets and pursed his lips. “Just wanted to unload it, huh?”

“Yeah, said there was nothing wrong with it. He was just ready for a change. Sold it to me cheap, too.”

“Really, just because you guys are such good friends and all?”

Ken shrugged. “I guess. We was real close in high school but kind of drifted apart after that.”

Scoop rocked back on his heels. “Yeah, I can see how that happens, your lives going in different directions and all.”

“Yeah. That's why I was real surprised when he called yesterday.”

“So you were tight in high school?”

“Yeah.”

“How did Randy get along with his teachers?”

Ken furrowed his brow. “I guess all right. I don't remember him having any issues with any of them.”

“Ahhh…”

“Wait a minute, there was one guy he didn't like too much.”

Scoop perked up. “Really?”

Sarah's stomach clenched. She leaned forward.
We're so close
.

“Yeah, I can't remember his name. He was the Phys Ed. teacher. I guess he always made Randy tow the line. Randy didn't like him.” Ken's brow furrowed. “You know, I think he was the football coach, yeah, Randy was ticked at him.”

“Why?”

Ken leaned forward and said in hushed tones, “Rumor has it he had the football players taking steroids. It had a weird effect on Randy.”

“I see.” Scoop tapped his fist on the door. “What kind of effect did they have on him?”

“Well…” Ken rubbed his chin. “He became kind of paranoid, and he would lose his temper really fast.”

“I see—”

“Yeah,” Ken continued. “He had a nasty temper. He got into a lot of fights, even got hauled into the clink.”

“You think this all happened because he was taking steroids?” Scoop asked.

“Yeah. He didn't have that temper before he started playing football.”

“Hmmm. I wonder where he got the pills.” Scoop stroked his chin.

“There were rumors the coach was handing them out to the players. I guess Randy got addicted to them. After high school, it was a real problem. He had a harder time getting them.” Randy scratched his head. “You know, he couldn't get into college because of the steroids. He was supposed to get a scholarship and everything. You know, a free ride. But once they found out about the steroids, they didn't want him.”

Scoop pursed his lips and frowned. “By chance do you know how to get a hold of Randy?”

“I've got his cell right here.” Ken dug into his pocket and pulled out his phone. He scrolled down a list of numbers and then read the bomber's phone number to Scoop.

Scoop jotted down the number. “Thanks. By the way, do you know what kind of vehicle Randy bought?”

“Yeah, it's a new truck. A real beauty, bright red.”

The retired reporter thanked Ken again and walked around his car and climbed in. Starting the engine, he waited for Randy's friend to drive off before he left his spot.

“We have to find out the name of the Phys Ed. teacher,” Sarah said.

Scoop glanced at Sarah in the rearview mirror. “I know his name. It's Bill Stevens. He's the football coach too.”

“Do you think it's true, about the steroids?” Sarah frowned and brushed the hair from her face.

“I don't know.” Scoop shook his head.

“I wonder why the school lets the coach get away with that?” Sarah chewed on her thumbnail.

“They may not know the coach was pushing steroids on his players,” Scoop said.

“Or they're just looking the other way,” Sarah said sourly.

“He's the football coach, he brings in a lot of revenue for school athletics,” Jackie added.

“You know him?”

“Not personally.” Jackie brushed her curls from her face. “You know I don't play football.”

“What? Football isn't fashionable?” Sarah smirked.

Jackie stuck her tongue out at her friend and then faced Scoop. “Did Randy Ferguson play football?”

“Yes, he was a star.”

“Why would the coach push steroids?” Sarah asked.

“Because they enhance athletic performance.” Scoop glanced at Sarah again in the rearview mirror.

“I don't get it.” Jackie frowned.

“Well, they increase the level of the hormone testosterone in your body, which increases aggressiveness, which makes you a better football player. The downside is that it can lead to violent behavior, called ‘roid rage'.”

“It sounds like he became dependent on them,” Sarah said.

“I think you can become psychologically dependent on them.” The retired reporter grimaced and rubbed the back of his neck. “But I don't think they're like heroin or anything like that.”

Sarah stared out the window. “I can't believe this whole thing is about steroids. So, because Randy took steroids they made him violent?”

“It's a possibility.” Scoop sighed and focused his attention on the road. “But we won't know until we talk to him.”

Sarah grabbed the reporter's shoulder. “Call the phone number.”

“Okay, let me pull over and I'll call.” Scoop signaled before he pulled off to the side of the road. Pulling the paper and his phone from his pocket, he pressed the numbers. He held the phone to his ear, frowning, and then sighed. “Looks like that number is no longer in service.”

“Bummer,” Sarah grumbled. “We should tell the FBI what we know.”

“I agree,” Scoop said. “I'll stop by the police station after I drop you kids off at Jackie's.”

“I'm kind of scared,” Lacey said as she twirled her hair around her finger.

Scott gave her a reassuring smile. “It's going to be okay. I'll go down to the station with Scoop and then call you later.”

Sarah leaned forward and grabbed the back of the front seat, her body rigid. “I think Bill Stevens was on the list of survivors.”