by R. L. Stine
Eddie nodded again. “This is the briefcase Emmy and I found inside a hollow tree in the Fear Street Woods.”
Fairfax raised the case. “Well … let’s take a look. I know a lot of people who will be very glad to know that the money has been retrieved.”
“What money? What are we talking about here?” Mac demanded.
Fairfax motioned him back with one hand.
He turned the briefcase and, gripping it in one hand, he struggled with the latch. It took a few tries but it finally popped open.
Fairfax tossed back the leather flap. He reached a hand into the briefcase, fumbled around inside, and pulled his hand out quickly.
We all stared at the stack of paper in his fist.
Fairfax peered into the case. Then he raised his eyes to Eddie and me. “No money,” he said. “Just stacks of cut-up newspaper.”
36.
I uttered a startled gasp. I gripped Eddie’s arm as my legs felt about to collapse. Eddie stood staring at the stack of cut-up newspaper in Fairfax’s hand, his mouth hanging open in shock.
Mac was the first to speak “I need an explanation here,” he said, running over to us. Beads of sweat covered his shaved head. His eyes appeared to roll around crazily revealing his anger and confusion. “You come on my property without a search warrant. You dig up one of my clients’ graves. What is going on here, Fairfax? Do I need to lawyer up?”
Fairfax raised a hand, as if to hold Mac back. “Please don’t interfere, sir,” he said quietly. “This is a federal investigation of an armored truck robbery. Do you know anything that might help me with that?”
Fairfax’s words caught Mac by surprise. “M-me?” he sputtered. “Robbery? I don’t know anything about that. What does it have to do with me?”
Fairfax raised the briefcase. “Have you ever seen this before?”
Mac shook his head violently. “No. No way. Why was it in a pet grave?”
“I can explain,” Eddie broke in. “I put it there, Mac. I—”
Mac’s eyes went wide. “You’re not involved in a robbery, are you, Eddie? I know you. You would never—”
“He’ll explain later, sir,” Fairfax said. He clamped the briefcase shut. “Eddie, you’re going to have to tell me where this briefcase has been. We’re going to have to have a long talk. Someone very carefully replaced the money with newspaper.”
Eddie shook his head but didn’t reply.
I knew how he felt. This was happening too fast, and it was too confusing. What could we say?
“If Eddie needs money for legal help, contact me,” Mac chimed in. “He’s a stand-up kid.”
“A stand-up kid with a .38 snubnose revolver,” Fairfax replied. He motioned us to follow him to my car. “First, we need to talk to the owner of this gun. Take me to your stepfather.”
Fairfax drove my car. Eddie gave him the directions to his house. I sat in the backseat, my whole body tensed, my teeth clenched so hard my jaw ached.
Lou didn’t do it, I kept repeating to myself. Lou didn’t rob the truck. It couldn’t have been Lou.
I stared straight ahead at Eddie in the front seat. I tried to read his thoughts, but his face was a total blank, as if he had shut off, as if he was in some kind of shock.
Eddie pushed open the front door and led us into his house. His Mom and Dad were in the den, a basketball game on the flat-screen TV. They jumped to their feet as we entered.
Lou squinted at us. “Eddie? Emmy? What’s up?”
Fairfax held the gun in one hand, the briefcase in the other.
Lou’s eyes locked on the briefcase, and his mouth dropped open. “Where’d you find that?” he blurted out.
Fairfax raised the briefcase higher. “Do you recognize it?”
Lou swallowed hard. I could see that he realized he’d made a mistake.
“I’m Federal Agent Fairfax,” the agent said. “Are you saying that you recognize this case?”
Lou’s whole body slumped, like a balloon deflating. A whoosh of air escaped his open mouth.
“I … should have known,” he murmured. “How did you find me so fast?”
Fairfax didn’t move. “This is your gun and your briefcase?”
Lou nodded. “I should have known. I should have known,” he repeated, eyes on the floor. “But I was desperate, you see.”
Eddie finally realized what was happening. He uttered a cry.
Fairfax stepped in front of him. “Don’t say another word,” Fairfax told Lou. “I’m placing you under arrest. You will be read your rights.”
Eddie’s mom started to sob. She grabbed her husband with both hands and shook him. “Lou, you didn’t. You didn’t. Tell me you didn’t.”
Lou covered his face with both hands. “I should have known.”
* * *
Two days later, Eddie, Sophie, and I sat in my living room. I’d put a big bowl of tortilla chips on the coffee table. But none of us felt like eating. We kept reliving the past few days. Kept discussing it, as if we could talk it away.
“This is so messed up,” Eddie said. “I knew Lou was desperate. But I don’t think Mom and I had any idea how desperate he really was.” Eddie sat beside me on the couch, one arm draped lightly around my shoulders.
Sophie sat on the floor, her legs crossed, her back against the cushion of an armchair. “But … robbing an armored truck? Whatever gave him the idea?” she said.
Eddie frowned. “Lou had worked security duty for the company. He knew their schedule. He knew when they’d be making the biggest collection of the week.”
He slapped the side of his head. “Who would believe that I’d take the gun he used in a crime? How horrible is that? I … feel so bad. I was so stupid. I just wanted to show off. I had no way of knowing…” His voice trailed off.
We sat in silence for a while. Sophie leaned forward and grabbed a handful of chips. Eddie snuggled against me. He squeezed my hand. His hand was ice cold.
“I just can’t believe this is happening to my family,” he said, his voice breaking. He let go of my hand and lowered his gaze to the floor.
“I can’t either,” I murmured. I felt so bad for Eddie, but I didn’t know what to say. I knew there wasn’t anything I could say that might cheer him up.
“I can’t believe Lou did it,” Eddie said, sighing again. “Remember when you had dinner at my house and Lou showed us that security tape of the truck holdup? It was him on the screen, and he was showing it to us. Why?”
“He must have been testing us,” I said. “He wanted to see if we recognized him.”
“And we didn’t,” Eddie said. “We sat there and stared at it, and we didn’t have a clue.”
Sophie climbed to her feet. She grabbed another handful of chips from the bowl. “So where is the money?” she asked.
Eddie and I stared at her. “We … don’t know,” I said.
“The police said Lou’s charges could be reduced if he returned the money,” Sophie said.
“Lou swears he doesn’t have it and he doesn’t know where it is,” Eddie said.
“Do the police believe him?” Sophie asked.
“How should I know?” Eddie snapped. He squeezed my hand so hard, it hurt. I tugged myself free. “How should I know what the police believe?” he shouted. “They believe my stepfather is a criminal. That’s what the cops believe. And he is. Lou is going to prison whether he has the money or not. And what will become of Mom and me? That’s the real question, Sophie.”
He was breathing hard from his outburst, his face red. I reached to comfort him, but he pulled away.
“Sorry,” Sophie said, rolling her eyes. “I asked the wrong question. Sorry. You don’t have to bite my head off.”
Eddie glared at her.
“I think I know where the money is,” I said.
They both turned to me. Sophie dropped her tortilla chips back into the bowl. Her eyes were wide with surprise.
“Where?” Eddie said.
“I think Mac has the money,�
�� I said. “He—”
“Huh? Are you kidding me?” Eddie said. “Mac doesn’t know anything about anything. He doesn’t—”
I grabbed his wrist. “Shut up and listen to me. The night we buried the briefcase for the first time? I had a feeling someone was watching us. And I remember the lights were on in Mac’s office.”
Eddie narrowed his eyes at me. “So?”
“I think Mac watched us bury the briefcase. The first time. And maybe he was watching the second time we buried it. And after we left, he dug it up, took the money, and replaced it with newspaper strips.”
Eddie shook his head. “But you saw Mac’s reaction when that federal agent made us dig up the case. Mac didn’t have a clue. He didn’t know what was going on.”
“He could have been faking that,” I said. “It’s easy to play innocent, Eddie.”
“Sure, it is. I do it all the time!” Sophie chimed in.
It was a joke, but Eddie and I just ignored her. I could see Eddie was thinking hard.
“Think about when we dug up the briefcase,” I said. “Remember how strange Mac acted? He looked frightened. Really. And he kept asking Fairfax if he needed to get a lawyer.”
“I remember,” Eddie said thoughtfully. “Yes. He did act frightened.”
“Like he thought the agent was there to investigate him,” I continued. “Why? Why was Mac so weird? Maybe because he had something to hide.”
“Like the money,” Eddie said. “The money from the briefcase.”
Eddie thought about it some more. “I sure would love to help Lou. If we found that money and returned it.…”
“When can we search Mac’s office?” I said. “And his apartment upstairs?”
Eddie scratched his head. “What day is it? Friday? That’s good. Mac always goes to stay with his girlfriend on Friday. We can go now.”
“Can I come, too?” Sophie asked. “I can help search. Or I could be lookout. Three heads are better than two.”
“Not a good idea,” I replied. “It could be dangerous, Sophie, and—”
I saw the hurt expression on her face. Here I was, shutting her out again. Not letting her help. Not letting her be part of the danger.
“Okay, okay,” I said.
So, the three of us drove to the pet cemetery, broke into Mac’s office, and started to search for the money.
And yes, we found the danger we thought we might encounter there. But it was much more horrifying than any of us could have predicted.
37.
Mac kept his office simple and neat. His desk had a stack of folders on one corner and a framed photo of a German shepherd on the other. A white coffee mug held a bunch of ballpoint pens.
A table beside the desk held a laptop computer, open to its home screen, only a few icons visible. An old-fashioned black telephone sat beside the laptop. Next to it, a glass jar of hard peppermints.
A wooden visitors’ chair across from the desk, a bookshelf, and a single file cabinet against the back were the only other furniture. The walls were covered with framed snapshots of dogs and cats.
Eddie and I pawed through the desk drawers. They were as neat and uncluttered as the rest of the office. Sophie dropped to her knees and began to search the bottom filing cabinet drawers.
“Maybe he has a hidden wall safe,” I said, gazing around the office.
“How could it be hidden?” Eddie said. “There’s nothing to hide it behind.”
The walls were plasterboard painted white. I walked all the way around, smoothing my hands over the wall, searching behind some of the framed snapshots. No hidden compartments. Nowhere a safe could be hidden.
“These drawers just have old contracts and bills and stuff,” Sophie reported. She climbed to her feet and pulled open the top drawer. “A thermos and a first-aid kit and a bunch of wires and cables,” she reported. “And look.” She held up a big jar of marshmallow fluff. “How weird is this?”
“Lots of people are into marshmallow fluff,” I said.
“Nothing here. Let’s try the backroom,” Eddie said.
Sophie and I followed him through the narrow doorway. He clicked on a ceiling light. Of course, I’d been here before with Eddie. It was a small, cramped storage room with stacks of cardboard cartons, some old office furniture, folding chairs, two broken shovels leaning against an old couch.
I gazed at the glare from the video screens against one wall. They sat on a table with the other security camera equipment. On the screens, I could see dark graves and trees outside. Nothing moved.
“What are those cups for?” Sophie pointed to shelves of metal cups, dozens of them lined up neatly in rows. “Are they sports trophies?”
“Those aren’t trophy cups,” Eddie said. “They’re urns. You know. That’s where the ashes go when Mac cremates a dog or cat.”
Sophie made a disgusted face. “You mean people walk in with a dog or a cat and they walk out with a silver cup full of ashes?”
Eddie nodded. “What did you think went on here, Sophie? Did you think it was like a day spa or a grooming salon?”
“Stop snapping at me,” Sophie said. “I came here to help you, remember? It’s not my fault that you work in a totally creepy place.”
“Let’s just search and get out of here,” I said. The tension between Sophie and Eddie was starting to get to me. I knew it wasn’t really Sophie’s fault. And Eddie had good reason to be tense and angry.
We squeezed between the stacks of cartons, but didn’t find any place where money could be hidden. Eddie pulled open a few cartons at the top of the stacks. One of them contained bags of gravel. Another held bottles of chemicals.
“We need to go upstairs and search Mac’s apartment,” he said.
He clicked off the ceiling light. I gasped as I heard a hard bump. From the front office. I couldn’t see Eddie and Sophie in the darkness. But I froze. My breath caught in my throat.
Was someone at the front door? Was Mac back?
I heard Eddie move. My eyes slowly adjusted to the dark. I followed him to the doorway of the backroom and, still holding my breath, gazed toward the front.
The office door was glass. I squinted out into the night.
Another bump at the door. And I saw the black Lab butting his snout against the glass. His eyes glowed darkly as he peered in at us. He pawed the dirt in front of the door and banged the glass once again with his head.
“Good watchdog,” Sophie muttered.
I let out a tense laugh. “How many times is that dog going to scare me?”
Once again, I thought of the black wolf from my dreams. No matter where I was or how tense or how involved in something else, my dreams were always nearby, always nagging at the back of my mind. Along with Aunt Marta’s terrifying words: “You are wolfen.”
“Ignore the dog. He can’t get in,” Eddie said, putting his hands on my waist and turning me toward the metal stairway at the side of the front office. “Let’s go upstairs and get this over with.”
I stood frozen for another moment. I still wasn’t breathing normally from the scare that dog gave me. To my surprise, Eddie leaned forward and kissed my cheek. “You’ll be okay,” he whispered.
The touch of his lips made my skin tingle. I saw Sophie watching from the back-room doorway.
Our shoes made clanging noises as we climbed the metal rungs to Mac’s living quarters. We stepped into a small bedroom filled up mostly with a king-sized bed. The blanket and sheets were tossed in a pile at the foot of the bed. Shirts and jeans cluttered the floor and were draped over a wooden chair. A small flat-screen TV stood on a long, low dresser at the foot of the bed.
Eddie clicked on the bedside table lamp, and we quickly went through the dresser drawers, searched the small clothes closet, and explored the space under the bed.
No luck.
We were down to our last room to search, a small front room with a couch piled with books and magazines, a low table cluttered with empty beer bottles.
“If th
e money isn’t here…” Sophie started.
“It doesn’t mean that Mac didn’t take it,” I insisted. “Maybe he hid the money somewhere else. Maybe he buried it in a grave like we did.”
“Or maybe he didn’t take it,” Eddie said. “Maybe we got it all wrong.”
“Maybe,” I admitted.
I moved to the back of the desk and, crouching, slid out the bottom drawer. It was empty. I stared at it. The drawer was shallow, not very long at all.
“Something weird here,” I muttered. I pulled the drawer all the way out and set it down on the floor. Then I lowered my head and peered into the opening. “Hey—!”
I spotted another drawer behind the shallow one. A hidden drawer?
I leaned forward, reached all the way in, grabbed the handle, and tugged. This drawer was a lot heavier than I imagined. It didn’t slide out easily. I tugged again.
Eddie and Sophie had turned to watch me. The hidden drawer was long. I pulled it halfway out and gazed down at it. Gazed down at the stacks of hundred-dollar bills. Neat piles of bills, wrapped in small bunches with rubber bands.
“Oh, wow.”
Eddie and Sophie were leaning over me now. “You found it,” Eddie said.
“Maybe it’s Mac’s money,” Sophie said. “Maybe it isn’t the stolen money.”
“Then why would he hide it in a secret drawer?” I asked. “Who keeps stacks of one hundreds in their house?” I picked up a thick stack and flipped my fingers through it. “This is it. I knew it. I knew Mac saw us. He must have dug up the briefcase as soon as we left, and he took the money.”
Eddie let out a long breath. His eyes were on the drawer. “This is excellent. This is really going to help Lou.”
I stood up and pulled out my phone. “I’ll call the police. I’ll tell them we found the stolen money. I guess we have to wait for them to come…”
I crossed to the doorway where the light was better. I raised the phone and squinted at the screen.
“Owww!” I cried out as a hard slap sent the phone flying from my hand. It bounced against the wall and dropped to the floor. I pulled back my hand—and stared at Mac.
His face was dark with anger, his eyes wide, teeth clenched. He shoved me aside and stomped into the room. “So sorry,” he said softly. “So sorry it has to be this way.”
