The Super Spies and the High School Bomber (35 page)

After a quick shower, she grabbed her phone and climbed beneath her covers, enjoying the way her body heat warmed the sheets. She punched in Jackie's number and waited for her to answer.

“Girlfriend?”

“Hey Jack,” Sarah said with a giggle, but beneath the light tone a deep sense of gratitude ran through her.

“What's up?”

“I just wanted to say thanks.”

“For what?”

“For being fashionable.”

Jackie laughed into the phone and Sarah giggled with her. These turned into full belly laughs and it felt good to Sarah. The tension of the last week slipped from her body.

After Jackie got her laughing under control she said, “See, being fashionable is an asset.”

“Yes, you've shown me the light.”

“We really need to work on your nails.”

Sarah smirked. “It'll have to wait until tomorrow.”
“Night, Sarah.”

“Night.” Sarah disconnected the call and placed her phone on her nightstand.

She glanced at the clock and realized it was only nine o'clock. She fluffed her pillow, before laying her head down. Soon she was drifting off to sleep.

Just as her eyelids drooped closed, the sound of her cell phone jangled her nerves.
What in the world could
Jackie want now
? Sarah frowned.

She fumbled for her phone, opening it, she said, “Jackie, you better have a good reason for calling…”

“Sarah?”

“Agent Gray?” Sarah sat up in bed.

“Yes. I wanted to talk to you, but with all the activity tonight I didn't get a chance.”

“About what?”

“You remember when you asked me to ping your parents' cell phone?”

“Yeah.” Tingles ran down Sarah's spine and she took a deep breath.

“Well, I received some information back. Why don't you stop by the police station tomorrow after school and we can talk about it.”

“You can't tell me now?” Sarah croaked.

“No, not over the phone.”

“Okay, tomorrow then.”

“Oh, and bring a picture of your parents with you.”

Sarah cracked a wide grin. “Okay. See you tomorrow.” She disconnected the call and placed the phone on the nightstand.

Sarah's heart skipped a beat as she crawled back under her covers. Her fingers tingled as she pulled her quilt around her and visions of her parents filled her head.
Maybe he found Mom and Dad! He must have found something or he wouldn't have asked for a picture. I'm going to have to skip school tomorrow.
Sarah groaned.
How am I going to get past Lacey
?

She sighed as she remembered her promise to her sister. Lacey was coming with her—there was no way around it. A smile twitched at the corners of her mouth and cautious hope filled her heart.
Tomorrow I'm going to get answers. Who knew you could ping someone's phone and find out where they are
?
Modern technology is awesome
! With that last thought running through her head, Sarah rolled over and went to sleep.

 

 

Lisa Orchard
grew up loving books. She was hooked on mysteries by the fifth grade and even wrote a few of her own. She knew she wanted to be a writer even then. “The Super Spies and the High School Bomber” is the second book in the “Super Spies” series. Her first book was published in March of 2012 and it has received rave reviews.

After graduating from Central Michigan University with a Marketing Degree she spent many years in the insurance industry, pining to express her creative side. The decision to stay home with her children gave her the opportunity to follow her dream and become a writer. She currently resides in Rockford Michigan with her husband, Steve, and two wonderful boys. Currently, she's working on the third novel that stars the same quirky teens. When she's not writing she enjoys spending time with her family, running, hiking, and reading.

 

 

 

Chapter One

 

“Do you know who that was?”

Sarah Cole whirled around and spied a tall, skinny girl standing a few feet behind her. “Are you talking to me?” Shading her eyes, Sarah cocked her head to get a better look at the girl.

The skinny girl nodded, her mop of wild curls dancing with her movements. “Yeah, do you know who she is?”

Sarah gazed down the street at the wizened old woman shuffling away. She wore a faded housedress, which appeared to have been slept in for at least a couple of nights. It looked like the wrinkles had wrinkles.

The woman's hair was a listless gray, trapped in a feeble bun at the nape of her neck. Some of it had escaped and trailed behind her as she walked, the limp strands swaying with the old woman's faltering steps. Minutes ago, Sarah had helped her with her cart—it had gotten stuck on the doorjamb as she left the corner drug store.

Pulling her honey colored hair out of her eyes, Sarah spun and studied the skinny girl, not quite sure what to make of her. “No, I don't.”

Sarah continued her scrutiny and noticed the skinny girl stood at least five inches taller than she did. Her curly hair burst from her scalp in a frantic frenzy. She looks like an exploded cotton swab. Pursing her lips, Sarah suppressed a bubble of laughter.

“She's the Cat Lady,” the bony girl said, an expression of guarded curiosity mixed with fear on her face.

“Who's the Cat Lady?”

The skinny girl pointed at the old woman shuffling away. “She's a crazy lady. A witch.”

“A witch?” Sarah scoffed. “I don't believe in witches.”

“It's true,” the skinny girl whispered emphatically. She stared at Sarah, her dark eyes reflecting the conviction behind her words.

“I don't believe you.”

“No one has seen her in years. She never leaves her home.” The skinny girl glanced toward the Cat Lady again, and then walked closer to Sarah.

Realizing the skinny girl was scared, Sarah glanced down the street a second time. She watched the hunched, old woman make her painful shuffle down the sidewalk. The Cat Lady didn't look dangerous to Sarah. She appeared to be a weary old lady making her way home.

“There's no such thing as witches,” Sarah said.

“She's a witch, an evil witch,” the scrawny girl insisted. She nodded her head again, sending her dark curls into another wild dance.

Sarah glanced down the street a third time and watched the old woman limp away. She didn't look like she had the strength to pull her cart, let alone perform black magic. “How do you know? Does she practice voodoo or something?” Sarah smirked at the skinny girl, realizing she had a flair for the theatrical. “And if she never leaves her home…why is she out on the street now?”

The girl opened her mouth to speak, and then shut it again as if she realized Sarah had a point. “Well…the delivery boy must have quit.” She pulled on a wayward curl and frowned. “Because there's no way she leaves her home. I haven't seen her in years.”

“Uh huh,” Sarah said, raising her eyebrows and pursing her lips.

The skinny girl must have seen the doubt in Sarah's expression, because she crossed her arms over her bony chest and moved another step closer. “Just let me tell you the whole story; I'm sure you'll change your mind. My name's Jacqueline Jenkins.” She drew out the syllables emphasizing her name like a movie star or the Queen of England, JAAAQUELEENE JEEENKIINS. Jutting out her hip, she faced Sarah as if she were posing for a magazine. “What's yours?”

“Sarah Cole.” Speaking through tight lips, Sarah was able to stifle another bubble of laughter.

“You can call me Jackie, though. That's what my friends call me.” She studied Sarah for a moment. “You're new in town, aren't you?”

“Yeah. We're staying with my aunt and uncle while my parents are on vacation.”

“We?”

“Me and my sister, Lacey.” Sarah scrutinized her surroundings. “Is this the whole town of Harrisburg?”

“Yep, this is it,” Jackie said. She opened her arms wide as if she were presenting the town to her.

Sarah stifled another giggle.
She looks like Vanna White on the Wheel of Fortune.

“Where are you from?”

Sarah cleared her throat and sighed. She wasn't looking forward to being stuck in this podunk town for the summer. Looking down the street, she realized there were only two traffic lights in the tiny burg.

“We're from Walker, you know, the big city.” Sarah held up her hands and formed quotes with her fingers when she said the words ‘big city'. “Do you guys have a bookstore?”

“Nope, but we do have a library.” Jackie pointed to a weathered, old building standing on the corner. “But no one goes there this time of year.”

“Why not?” Sarah's spirits sank even lower as she realized she wouldn't be able to buy her True Crime novels.

“Because, it's summer, silly.”

Sarah rolled her eyes. “Oh, I thought you were going to say it was haunted by the Cat Lady.”

Jackie cracked a wide grin. “Nope, she never comes out of her house.”

“Except for today.” Sarah shot Jackie a skeptical look.

“Once I tell you the whole story, you'll be a believer.” Jackie hooked her arm through Sarah's. “Good thing you ran into me, otherwise you would have gone the whole summer without this knowledge. Come on, let's follow her home.”

Sarah chewed on her thumbnail. “I don't know—.”

Jackie pulled on her arm. “Come on…she's a legend in this town. Don't you want to see her house? People have gone in…and never come out.” Jackie's eyes darkened with the mystery and her voice dropped for emphasis.

Sarah continued chewing on her nail; she thought about her options and realized she didn't have many. She could go home and hang out with her younger sister,
yuck
, or check out the
supposedly
crazy Cat Lady's house.

Sarah's inquisitive nature got the better of her and she pulled her thumb out of her mouth. “Okay, let's go.”

Jackie beamed and pulled Sarah down the sidewalk. “So, what grade are you in?”

“Ninth.”

“Hey, me too.” Jackie put her arm around Sarah.

The girls trailed the crazy lady, staying a good block behind her. As they walked Jackie filled her in on the Cat Lady legend. According to Jackie, at least three people had mysteriously disappeared from the town of Harrisburg, all of them victims of the Cat Lady curse. Sarah couldn't help but be drawn in by the stories. There was the former grocery delivery boy, Gus, who delivered her groceries and never returned to the store. The next victim was the good doctor, who used to do house calls until he disappeared inside her house, and then last but not least, old lady Farnsworth who was discovered dead after a dispute with the Cat Lady.

Listening to her new friend drone on, Sarah watched the infamous woman wind her way home. She couldn't help but notice how frail she appeared as she shuffled down the street. The poor woman didn't look strong enough to make anyone disappear, let alone cause the death of a grouchy old lady.

The air was thick with humidity. Sweat formed on Sarah's brow as she rounded the corner toward the Cat Lady's place. Sighing, she wiped it away.
How much farther do we have to go?
Glancing at the huge oak trees lining the sidewalk, Sarah realized this was an old part of town just because the trees were so big. Sunlight dappled the walkway, leaving dark shadows as it forced its light between the leaves. No one roamed the streets; Sarah thought this was odd and her heart picked up its pace.
Jackie's stories are getting to me.

“Okay,” Jackie whispered, clutching Sarah's arm. “We're almost there.” Jackie stopped and cast a skittish glance around her. “Let's cross the street.”

Strolling across the street, Jackie tried to appear casual by swinging her arms and whistling, but Sarah knew she was faking it.

Sarah stopped her when they reached the opposite sidewalk. “Okay, what are we going to do?”

“We're going to watch her.”

“Watch her?”

Jackie pulled on one of her curls. “Yeah, see if she does anything...you know…witchy.”

Sarah furrowed her brow. “Won't she see us?”

“Trust me.” Jackie winked.

Sarah followed her new friend to an old church, reaching it just after the Cat Lady disappeared inside her home. They scurried behind an old oak tree growing on the church's lawn. With a thudding heart, Sarah hugged the tree.
These stories are definitely getting to me
. Feeling the rough bark of the tree calmed her. She was hidden and this made her feel safe.
After all, what could happen in broad daylight?

Peeking out from behind the tree, Sarah stared at the house. It sat in the middle of the block on Jefferson Street in a state of disrepair. Ancient gutters sagged at one end, and it needed a fresh coat of paint. The front porch ran the full length of the structure, settling on the south side. It reminded Sarah of a drooping smile, the kind of smile she might get from someone whose mouth had been shot full of novocaine. Dirty windows, which resembled sinister eyes, peered at the girls with their unblinking stare. A chill ran down Sarah's spine.
It's like the house knows we're here.
She noticed the grass hadn't been mowed in weeks and the house appeared abandoned. Cats dawdled on the stoop, the only signs of life around the place.