simple. There’s more, I told myself. Think.
What was it Officer Rainey said about talking to Jasper later? Oh, yes—he said he didn’t know where Jasper lived, because when he had interviewed him that afternoon, Jasper was still hanging around town.
But wait a minute—he also thanked me for telling him that Jasper was not one of the racers.
Of course ! That’s what I’d been trying to figure out for the last hour. Officer Rainey was lying! If Jasper was still hanging around in the afternoon, Rainey already knew he wasn’t in the race. Rainey either lied when he said he thought that Jasper was one of the racers, or when he said he talked to Jasper that afternoon. Either way, Rainey hadn’t been honest. And it didn’t matter whether he was lying to protect his criminal brother or lying to protect his own criminal skin. He had some major explaining to do.
I got back in the saddle and picked up the trail of mountain bike treads in the mud. After a few more miles the tracks veered off the old path and down a rugged hill toward a large cluster of trees and bushes. A DEAD END sign was posted at the top of the hill.
I turned off my headlight, pulled my bike off the path, and hid it in a large bramble bush. I took my backpack out of one of the panniers and checked the contents. I emptied out the comb and lip balm andother stuff I didn’t need. I didn’t know how long I’d be hiking, so I wanted to keep the pack as light as possible.
I took my cell phone, pen and notebook, pocket-knife, energy bars, and penlight. Then I pushed my bike, my helmet, and the other stuff I was dumping under the bramble bush. Unless someone was looking for it, it wouldn’t be spotted.
Quietly I started hiking down the hill, following the trail of Jasper’s brother’s mountain bike. There was just enough moonlight to see where I was going. When I got to the edge of the river, the bike trail ended—and I saw something moving gently ahead. A decrepit fishing boat bumped at the end of a very short pier.
I ducked behind a fallen tree and watched the area for a few minutes. There was nothing—no sound, except the lapping water and the bumping boat. No one in sight. I waited a few more minutes to muster my courage, and also to plot an escape route. Then I darted straight for the little pier.
I crept quickly across the creaky planks and gazed into the boat. There was a small cabin in the middle of the deck, but it was mostly windows. I crouched to look through the glass. No one was on board—at least until I stepped off the pier onto the deck.
The boat was pretty run down, and I saw nothingthat would identify the owner. I stepped inside the cabin, which meant I walked down three short steps. Pulling the penlight from my backpack, I swung the beam around the small room.
A built-in bench along one wall had an old mattress stretched over it. One rickety-looking wooden kitchen chair and a couple of barstools made up the rest of the furniture. A hot plate, an electric popcorn popper, and assorted dishes—both clean and dirty—filled the counter and sink in one back corner. Next to that was a tiny closet full of canned goods with a fishy-smelling canvas deck cover wadded on its floor. The other corner in the back contained a door leading to the teeniest bathroom I’d ever seen—even smaller than the ones on planes.
There was trash piled everywhere in the main room—stacks of newspapers, food wrappers, empty bags—but nothing that looked as if it could be holding a wad of stolen cash. There were no closets. I checked the one cupboard under the sink. There were some pretty disgusting things under there, but no money.
I went to the bench that ran along the wall. I really didn’t want to touch the mattress, so I gently kicked the front of the bench. Hollow. I went to the end and pushed at the corners. The top corner was firm, but the bottom gave a little.
There was no handle, but I wiggled my finger under the wood and tugged. Half the
What was it Officer Rainey said about talking to Jasper later? Oh, yes—he said he didn’t know where Jasper lived, because when he had interviewed him that afternoon, Jasper was still hanging around town.
But wait a minute—he also thanked me for telling him that Jasper was not one of the racers.
Of course ! That’s what I’d been trying to figure out for the last hour. Officer Rainey was lying! If Jasper was still hanging around in the afternoon, Rainey already knew he wasn’t in the race. Rainey either lied when he said he thought that Jasper was one of the racers, or when he said he talked to Jasper that afternoon. Either way, Rainey hadn’t been honest. And it didn’t matter whether he was lying to protect his criminal brother or lying to protect his own criminal skin. He had some major explaining to do.
I got back in the saddle and picked up the trail of mountain bike treads in the mud. After a few more miles the tracks veered off the old path and down a rugged hill toward a large cluster of trees and bushes. A DEAD END sign was posted at the top of the hill.
I turned off my headlight, pulled my bike off the path, and hid it in a large bramble bush. I took my backpack out of one of the panniers and checked the contents. I emptied out the comb and lip balm andother stuff I didn’t need. I didn’t know how long I’d be hiking, so I wanted to keep the pack as light as possible.
I took my cell phone, pen and notebook, pocket-knife, energy bars, and penlight. Then I pushed my bike, my helmet, and the other stuff I was dumping under the bramble bush. Unless someone was looking for it, it wouldn’t be spotted.
Quietly I started hiking down the hill, following the trail of Jasper’s brother’s mountain bike. There was just enough moonlight to see where I was going. When I got to the edge of the river, the bike trail ended—and I saw something moving gently ahead. A decrepit fishing boat bumped at the end of a very short pier.
I ducked behind a fallen tree and watched the area for a few minutes. There was nothing—no sound, except the lapping water and the bumping boat. No one in sight. I waited a few more minutes to muster my courage, and also to plot an escape route. Then I darted straight for the little pier.
I crept quickly across the creaky planks and gazed into the boat. There was a small cabin in the middle of the deck, but it was mostly windows. I crouched to look through the glass. No one was on board—at least until I stepped off the pier onto the deck.
The boat was pretty run down, and I saw nothingthat would identify the owner. I stepped inside the cabin, which meant I walked down three short steps. Pulling the penlight from my backpack, I swung the beam around the small room.
A built-in bench along one wall had an old mattress stretched over it. One rickety-looking wooden kitchen chair and a couple of barstools made up the rest of the furniture. A hot plate, an electric popcorn popper, and assorted dishes—both clean and dirty—filled the counter and sink in one back corner. Next to that was a tiny closet full of canned goods with a fishy-smelling canvas deck cover wadded on its floor. The other corner in the back contained a door leading to the teeniest bathroom I’d ever seen—even smaller than the ones on planes.
There was trash piled everywhere in the main room—stacks of newspapers, food wrappers, empty bags—but nothing that looked as if it could be holding a wad of stolen cash. There were no closets. I checked the one cupboard under the sink. There were some pretty disgusting things under there, but no money.
I went to the bench that ran along the wall. I really didn’t want to touch the mattress, so I gently kicked the front of the bench. Hollow. I went to the end and pushed at the corners. The top corner was firm, but the bottom gave a little.
There was no handle, but I wiggled my finger under the wood and tugged. Half the
Similar Books
