why Butch and me are gonna search Boomer’s house next time he goes out.” Yawning, Kelby punched a dent in his pillow and settled back to read his comics.
Uh-oh, Spence thought. He ran to meet Zoe as she came running down the hill. “Your brother and Butch are planning to search Boomer’s house when he goes out. That means—”
“That means we go in when he’s there” she said, breathing hard from the run. “Tonight. After he takes his sedative. I saw it in his refrigerator. It says take nightly.”
“Jeezum. What if he forgets and doesn’t take it?”
“Drop some of the Liquid Sleep in his root beer. Mom takes over-the-counter stuff like that when she has a hard day coming up. No side effects, she says—except maybe a little sleepwalking? But most people don’t do that, Mom says.”
“Who’s going to put it in his root beer?”
“I will. You can keep watch outside in case I need help.”
“If he catches you? What then?”
“Then you dash in and save me.”
“Me? What can I do against Boomer? He’s three times my size.” Spence’s brow was bathed in sweat, and it wasn’t because of the sun. In fact, there was no sun. Just dark clouds moving over the mountain, threatening a storm.
Already he could hear the thunder inside his head. “Okay,” he said finally. “I don’t like it, but I’ll be there.”
“You coming?” Zoe whispered. It was 10:30 p.m. and Zoe was halfway down Boomer’s cellar steps while Spence was still at the top, grasping the splintery edge of the wooden door.
“What for?” he said. “You told me to wait outside and watch.”
“How can you watch? His shades are down. You can’t see in.”
“I can hear if you yell.”
“By then it could be too late. You have to be in the cellar. On the steps near the kitchen and be ready. So get down here, please.” She let out a soft cry at the bottom when her foot landed in a hole.
“What?” He was standing behind her now.
“A hole in the dirt. I almost twisted my ankle. He might’ve been digging here. It’s been filled in, but not all the way.”
“Jeezum. You think it’s Hackberry under there?”
“Who knows? Now don’t talk. I’m going up.”
She heard the refrigerator door squeal open and then shut. A bottle clunked. Liquid spilled into a glass. He always drank from a glass—that was why her scheme might work. Had he already taken the Liquid Sleep? But maybe not. Hearing footsteps plod into the next room, she opened the door to the kitchen and slipped in.
She crept across the creaky kitchen floor and opened the refrigerator. A TV announcer was shouting, so he wouldn’t hear her footsteps. There it was, the Liquid Sleep. “Two teaspoonfuls of this natural herb tonic and you’II sleep like a baby, “ the directions read. Just in case, she poured a little into the paper cup she’d brought, then flattened herself by the side of the door and peered out. He was slumped in his black leather chair, his gray grizzled head tilted to one side like he was already half asleep. The sports announcer was excited about a slide to third base. But Boomer’s face was slumping down toward his chin in a waterfall of eyes, nose and lips.
Thunder boomed outside; lightning crackled and lit up the room. Boomer’s eyes opened wide as if the lightning had kindled his thoughts. “That’s it,” he said aloud. “That’s where.”
He went to his desk in the study and scribbled something on a pad. Then he returned to his chair with a satisfied smile and dropped down into it. He turned up the volume on the TV. Somebody hit a home run and raced around the bases. Boomer cursed, it wasn’t his team. He threw the remote at the screen but people went on cheering. He turned off the power and picked up a magazine from a side table. He flipped through the pages for a moment, looked bored and headed back into the kitchen.
Zoe ducked behind the living room couch. It had been a close call. What would he have done if he found
Uh-oh, Spence thought. He ran to meet Zoe as she came running down the hill. “Your brother and Butch are planning to search Boomer’s house when he goes out. That means—”
“That means we go in when he’s there” she said, breathing hard from the run. “Tonight. After he takes his sedative. I saw it in his refrigerator. It says take nightly.”
“Jeezum. What if he forgets and doesn’t take it?”
“Drop some of the Liquid Sleep in his root beer. Mom takes over-the-counter stuff like that when she has a hard day coming up. No side effects, she says—except maybe a little sleepwalking? But most people don’t do that, Mom says.”
“Who’s going to put it in his root beer?”
“I will. You can keep watch outside in case I need help.”
“If he catches you? What then?”
“Then you dash in and save me.”
“Me? What can I do against Boomer? He’s three times my size.” Spence’s brow was bathed in sweat, and it wasn’t because of the sun. In fact, there was no sun. Just dark clouds moving over the mountain, threatening a storm.
Already he could hear the thunder inside his head. “Okay,” he said finally. “I don’t like it, but I’ll be there.”
“You coming?” Zoe whispered. It was 10:30 p.m. and Zoe was halfway down Boomer’s cellar steps while Spence was still at the top, grasping the splintery edge of the wooden door.
“What for?” he said. “You told me to wait outside and watch.”
“How can you watch? His shades are down. You can’t see in.”
“I can hear if you yell.”
“By then it could be too late. You have to be in the cellar. On the steps near the kitchen and be ready. So get down here, please.” She let out a soft cry at the bottom when her foot landed in a hole.
“What?” He was standing behind her now.
“A hole in the dirt. I almost twisted my ankle. He might’ve been digging here. It’s been filled in, but not all the way.”
“Jeezum. You think it’s Hackberry under there?”
“Who knows? Now don’t talk. I’m going up.”
She heard the refrigerator door squeal open and then shut. A bottle clunked. Liquid spilled into a glass. He always drank from a glass—that was why her scheme might work. Had he already taken the Liquid Sleep? But maybe not. Hearing footsteps plod into the next room, she opened the door to the kitchen and slipped in.
She crept across the creaky kitchen floor and opened the refrigerator. A TV announcer was shouting, so he wouldn’t hear her footsteps. There it was, the Liquid Sleep. “Two teaspoonfuls of this natural herb tonic and you’II sleep like a baby, “ the directions read. Just in case, she poured a little into the paper cup she’d brought, then flattened herself by the side of the door and peered out. He was slumped in his black leather chair, his gray grizzled head tilted to one side like he was already half asleep. The sports announcer was excited about a slide to third base. But Boomer’s face was slumping down toward his chin in a waterfall of eyes, nose and lips.
Thunder boomed outside; lightning crackled and lit up the room. Boomer’s eyes opened wide as if the lightning had kindled his thoughts. “That’s it,” he said aloud. “That’s where.”
He went to his desk in the study and scribbled something on a pad. Then he returned to his chair with a satisfied smile and dropped down into it. He turned up the volume on the TV. Somebody hit a home run and raced around the bases. Boomer cursed, it wasn’t his team. He threw the remote at the screen but people went on cheering. He turned off the power and picked up a magazine from a side table. He flipped through the pages for a moment, looked bored and headed back into the kitchen.
Zoe ducked behind the living room couch. It had been a close call. What would he have done if he found
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