He handed me a business card. “You’ve met this officer before. I don’t think he’ll give you information, but you can try.”
Chapter 59
The water felt so warm and good that when we started throwing a beach ball around, I almost forgot Jeff had cancer. We were just two kids having fun.
Later we walked down some steps to a concrete walkway. The river running past the pools was filled with rocks, many arranged in circles.
We scooted down the edge, hopping from rock to rock. I dipped a toe in one pool and pulled it back quickly. The water felt like it was boiling.
“Try this one!” Jeff said.
It was cooler. A few feet away the river was frigid, but here the water was toasty. A cool breeze blew, and goose bumps rose on my arms. A wave of warmth swept over me, and I realized the water was bubbling from beneath us rather than flowing from the river.
“I heard Native Americans used to come to these pools because they felt the water would heal their diseases,” Jeff said.
“Yeah, they probably stopped here on those long bike trips hunting buffalo.”
I closed my eyes and put my head back against a smooth rock, and it felt like I was floating on warmed air. The curve of the rock fit my head and neck perfectly. “I wish I could take this pool home with me, complete with the rocks and sand.”
When Jeff didn’t answer I opened my eyes and saw him staring across the stream. His mouth was open, and I was afraid he was having some sort of seizure.
“What’s wrong?” I said, rolling over and splashing water on him.
He pointed. “Look under that rock over there.”
There were pine trees and several large rocks on the other side. Something was moving under one of the rocks. It looked like a long band of diamonds against a yellow background.
“Looks like a bull snake!” someone downriver called.
I didn’t care if it was a bull snake, a cow snake, or any other kind. I was done with the pool.
“I have to write my column,” Jeff said.
We grabbed our stuff and headed back.
Chapter 60
I struck out with the cop, but Mom knew a social worker—Liesel Parrish—who investigates kids in trouble or families who abuse children. I remembered she once said she could run the license-plate number of someone she was investigating, so I called her.
“Why do you want the info?” Liesel said.
I told her the owner of the truck was a construction guy working near our school. “I think he might have taken some stuff from my friend’s house.”
“Hmm,” she said. “If you promise you’ll contact the police if you find out anything and if you promise not to do anything dangerous, I’ll e-mail you the information.”
Chapter 61
Jeff’s Diary
by Jeff Alexander
A 200-mile bike ride is a lot like having cancer. You’re never sure what the next day will bring. With a disease, you can lose your hair, go through surgery, feel fine, or get dizzy and fall a lot. With a bike ride, the road could be bumpy or smooth. The clouds could roll in and you can’t see much, or it can clear up and feel like you can see for a hundred miles. Or you can get dizzy and fall a lot.
I wouldn’t want to go through cancer or a long bike ride without good friends. I’m riding with my friend Bryce. We’re camping out, eating lunch, and even going in the hot springs together. It’s sure made the difficult journey easier.
This morning I talked with our leader, Gary. His daughter died of cancer when she was five. He rides with a picture of her taped to his handlebars. I imagine she keeps him going mile after mile.
Gary keeps us going because he’s always there in front, telling us where to go, what to do, and which trail to take. That reminds me of another friend who’s good to have with you when you have a disease or even when you don’t. A lot of people think God is a lucky charm you wear around your neck for good luck, or that he’s some old guy in heaven just waiting to smack you when you do something wrong. But I’ve come to know Jesus as a friend who sticks closer than a brother. Even when I’m upset about my disease and want to blame God, Jesus is there.
The Bible says, “Do not be afraid or discouraged, for the Lord will personally go ahead of you. He will be with you; he will neither fail you nor abandon you.”
It doesn’t say he will heal you or take you out of something scary, but if you’ll let him, Jesus will guide you through anything.
If you have pledged money to support our ride and for cancer research, thank you. I hope you’ll be there when we finish in a couple of days.
Chapter 62
The next morning we ate breakfast in the lodge with the mountain lion staring at us. Then Jeff and I stayed in the hot pool until his parents showed up. I didn’t want to go near the water where Jeff and I had seen the snake, and I was glad he didn’t bring it up. If Ashley had been here I’d have tried to get her to go, because she’s spooked by anything that slithers. But the truth is, I’m just as afraid as she is.
As we packed, Jeff got a phone call and went outside to talk. When he came back we headed to the camp for a late-morning meeting. A storm was brewing. Gary talked with a TV weather guy and finally gave us the go-ahead.
The first mile was the hardest, trying to get back into the rhythm of pedaling together. The hot spring had loosened our muscles, but I wondered if the water had relaxed us too much. Jeff seemed slow, and he still looked pale.
Our goal was the bottom of Wilkerson Pass, but when we got within 10 miles of it, passing through Hartsel—population 75 with a gas station, a general store, and two restaurants—the clouds rolled in.
Buffalo and cattle grazed in a nearby field. I told Jeff we should play “Hey, Buffalo,” where you holler at the animals and get a point for every one that actually looks up. I tried to scream, “Hey, Buffalo!” But I was so winded and tired I couldn’t make them hear me.
I glanced back to see Jeff smile. He didn’t even try my game.
Lightning struck on the horizon, and thunder rumbled soon after.
Chapter 63
I slept late, then went downstairs and had breakfast at the computer. I found a message from Liesel Parrish.
Here’s the information you wanted. FYI, this guy looks clean. No arrests, warrants, tickets. Remember, you promised you’d be careful with this.
At the bottom she listed his name, Clarke Jeppeson, and his work and home phone numbers. I called his office and reached a secretary. I told her I was a student at Red Rock Middle School and had noticed construction there. “Can you tell me what’s going on?”
I heard her rattle some papers. “Here’s a number you can call.”
“So you don’t know what’s going on?” I said.
“Clarke told me to give that number to anyone who calls. Okay?”
I dialed but reached the voice mail of someone who identified himself as Tim Minaro at DM.
I hung up before the beep, wondering what DM stood for.
Chapter 64
The longer we rode, the cloudier it got. The sky looked like a sheet of foam with the little nubs sticking out. It was pretty, and I’d never seen it like that before, but frankly I’d rather have seen it from inside a nice warm house or car.
Every time lightning flashed, Jeff gasped. I asked if he wanted to pull over, but he said he wanted to keep up with the others.
“Know what I do when I get scared?” he said, huffing and puffing. “I make up jokes.”
“Okay,” I said.
“What did the little kid on the trail say to the mountain lion?”
I chuckled. “I give up.”
“‘I hope you’re stuffed.’”
It was bad, but it took my mind off the lightning. Then it was back and forth, trying to make each other laugh. “What did the buffalo dad say to his kid when he left the herd?”
“Bye Son.”
“What do you call two male cows who read Scripture?”
“Bi-bulls.”
“‘I’m Mama Llama Ding-Dong!’”
They were so bad we couldn’t help laughing. It started raining, but we didn’t care. We just kept pedaling, passing others who slowed.
I told Jeff about the verse in Proverbs I had read a few days earlier, and he said, “What did the kid with cancer say to the guy who rode 200 miles with him?”
“I give up.”
“Thanks for being my friend.”
Chapter 65
I felt caught between two cases—three counting the middle school—and I wished Bryce would get back to help me sort them out. I took a break to clear my head and drove my ATV to the Morris farm to check on our alpaca, Amazing Grace. She was prancing around her mother when I arrived.
Mr. Morris had given Bryce and me the alpaca after an adventure while he and his family were out of town. Alpacas are gentle animals with really soft fur that people use for sweaters and other clothes. They have long necks and big eyes like camels, but they’re a lot cuter.
I greeted Mr. Morris and gave Grace a treat.
Mom’s phone buzzed. It was Bryce. “Ash,” he said, “pray for Jeff. He just collapsed.”
Chapter 66
Jeff and I had stopped at a barn in a field not far from the road. We limped over to join the others watching the roiling clouds. Jeff’s parents had just pulled up when I heard a commotion and turned to see Jeff on the ground.
As Jeff was being carried to the van, he waved and said he was okay, but I could tell everyone was scared.
The rain came harder as we settled in. Several in our group gathered in a corner, holding hands and praying.
A half hour later Mr. Alexander asked if Jeff had told me about his severe headaches all day.
“No,” I said. “We were even joking most of the ride.”
Mr. Alexander sat beside me. “He wants to finish more than anything, but I just don’t see it.”
“He wouldn’t have to even pedal,” I said. “All he has to do is hang on.”
“Some of the other riders want to help. They can give you a rest—you switch and ride their bikes for a while.”
I shook my head. “No way. I want to do this. If I get to where I can’t go on, I’ll ask for help. As long as Jeff gets to finish.”
The rain pecked at the metal roof like chickens searching for food. A mist swept across the valley. The temperature dropped, and it almost felt cold enough to snow. Yes, even in June. Trust me—I’ve seen it.
“I’ll bet this is hard for you and your wife,” I said.
“We’ve been letting go of Jeff since the day he was born,” Mr. Alexander said. “That’s a parent’s job. You watch him take his first step. You see him go to school. I was looking forward to teaching Jeff to drive. Sending him to college . . .”
His voice trailed off as he looked out at the plains. “This is every parent’s nightmare. We’ve trusted God with Jeff since he was born. We need to trust him now even more.”
Chapter 67
Mom and I taped the afternoon news, which carried a story about the bike ride. They showed the beginning, which I hadn’t seen before, including a tight shot of Jeff and a little of Bryce’s backside, which I thought was funny. I couldn’t wait to show him.
“Many have come to know this young man, Jeff Alexander, through his column in a local newspaper,” the reporter said. “Some have even made per-mile donation pledges to fight cancer on his behalf. But today, Jeff is fighting to make his dream become a reality.”
Leigh walked in and joined us to watch.
The report showed Jeff being helped from his parents’ van and a group of riders staring at the rain. Looking exhausted, Jeff stood in a patch of light at the barn’s edge. His face was pale as a ghost’s.
“We’ve come a long way,” Jeff said, “but we’ve got farther to go. I don’t want to let anybody down. I just hope I can finish.”
Mom wiped away a tear. Leigh just stared. It was strange watching a friend of mine on TV. The last shot showed Bryce and Jeff looking out at the rain. The news showed a phone number for people who wanted to contribute.
I wanted to ask Leigh what she thought, but I didn’t want to get into another fight. Dylan came in with two eggbeaters, pretending he was holding a microphone and singing some song he had made up.
A picture flashed on the screen and I yelled, “Quiet!” Dylan’s lip quivered and he ran out. I felt bad, but I couldn’t help it. The picture was of Gunnar.
“New evidence tonight in the disappearance of a Red Rock man missing more than two weeks. Police say Gunnar Roberts was at a local grocery store the day before he went missing. An investigation of Roberts’s vehicle, found submerged in a nearby lake, led authorities to a receipt from the store. A surveillance video clearly shows the man in the store.
“Red Rock police ask that you call the number on the screen if you have any information on his whereabouts.”
Chapter 68
The clouds finally broke, and the temperature warmed. We headed to the top of Wilkerson Pass, which is a whole lot easier to talk about than actually do. On several stretches I had to get off and push, and I admit there were times when I almost took the others up on their offers to trade places. Gary rode alongside, his leg muscles bulging as he pushed toward the summit, all the time urging me on and telling Jeff to just hang in there.
When we finally got to the welcome center, everybody clapped and raised their fists. My legs were as wobbly as an old chair. We were almost at 10,000 feet, and it felt like I had carried the bike the whole way. Jeff looked worn out too, but he still smiled. People crowded around him and took pictures.
“It’s pretty much downhill from here, isn’t it?” Jeff said.
Gary nodded. “We’ll camp tonight at Lake George, about 2,000 feet below us. Colorado Springs is about 40 more miles from there.”
It seemed as if we coasted into Lake George, a really small town with one motel, one store, and some areas for camping. I ate burgers from the grill. Jeff took his medicine and said he wasn’t hungry.
When the sun went down, the stars shone brighter than anywhere else I’d ever seen them. Maybe it was getting through all those clouds that did it, but it looked like you could reach out and touch them.
We were in our sleeping bags, staring out the tent flap, when Jeff said, “Do you think angels can see us?”
“Another bad joke?”
“No, I mean it. Are there angels up there right now who can look at us?”
I shrugged. “Why would they? I can think of about a million better things to do.”
“But there are guardian angels, right? Ones God sends to protect people?”
“I believe in those,” I said, reminding him about Sam and Ashley and Dylan and me plunging into the lake in our car and almost not getting out alive. “I think angels were right there with us.”
Jeff smiled. “Mine’s named Todd.”
“Excuse me?”
“That’s what I call him. He doesn’t talk to me or anything, but I know he’s there.”
“Well, tell Todd good night for me.”
Chapter 69
“Whatever happened to your uncle?” I asked Hayley as we headed to her aunt’s house the next morning.
“My parents don’t talk about it much, but I think he ran off when Gunnar was little. Nobody’s heard from him in years.”
That made me feel even more sorry for her aunt. At best, her son had abandoned her. At worst, he had been hurt or killed.
Hayley and I sat with her aunt in her living room. “The receipt they talked about on the news was from King Soopers,” she said. “Gunnar bought a bunch of supplies like he was going away for a year.”
“That’s good,” Hayley said. “It means he’s probably still alive.”
Her aunt shook her head. “Seems clear he was running from someone.”
“Like those goons who came here the other day,” I said.
“Why, Mrs. Roberts?” I said. “They might be the key to where Gunnar is.”
“I told you what they threatened, and I don’t want to say it again.”
Chapter 70
I woke to birds chirping. A mist rose from Lake George, which is a funny name for a lake. I could see it as a name for a grandfather but not a lake. I wondered why they didn’t name it Lake Bob or Lake Walt.
Jeff awoke like an 80-year-old man, stiff and grunting. He threw back the sleeping bag, and I noticed his pale arms and legs. “Last day,” he said.
“How does it feel? You’re actually going to finish this thing.”
He groaned as he put on his socks. “I’ve dreamed of this for months. Now, part of me doesn’t want it to end.”
I nodded. It made me sad to think of the bike ride ending too.
People gathered around the campfire outside, cooking breakfast, drinking coffee, and talking softly.
“How’s he doing?” Gary said.
“Ready to finish, and not ready at the same time.”
Gary smiled. “We’ve got a surprise for him at the end. There are a couple more challenging hills, so I can help if you want, but you’re going to bring him home.”
We weren’t that far from the Florissant Fossil Beds, and I wished we could spend a couple of days there. There were so many things we could have done, but we had to keep moving.
With some hard riding we reached Woodland Park by late morning. If we went over the mountain behind the town, we would be at the Air Force Academy, and a few miles beyond that lay Red Rock.
The local police blocked traffic as we rode through Woodland Park, which has a lot of shops and restaurants. Some people looked ticked that we were tying up the road, but others stood clapping. Some waved American flags.
Grave Shadows Page 7
