“All right, I borrowed some money from some goons and couldn’t pay them back. I had to make it look like I was hurt or something.”
“Those guys who came to your house?” Hayley said.
Gunnar’s face turned white. “What did they look like?”
“Gorillas,” I said. “Nicely dressed gorillas. Arms the size of tree trunks. Sunglasses. Shiny car. One of them looked like a shark with his shiny suit.”
“That’s them,” he said, rubbing the back of his neck. “I didn’t think they’d bother Mom.” He turned. “That kid who was with you—did he really die?”
Bryce nodded. “Yesterday.”
“You gotta believe me. I didn’t take his stuff. I was just looking through it and found the radio. There was a videodisc in there too. Had the name Bryce on it.”
“That’s me,” Bryce said.
“I’ll get it for you.” He rummaged through some plastic bags that looked like they were half trash, half uneaten stuff. “I know it’s in here somewhere.”
“Why did you need the money?” Hayley said.
He stopped rummaging and looked at her. “I made a few trips up to Cripple Creek.”
“Gambling?” Bryce said.
Gunnar nodded. “I’d been up there a few times and had done pretty well. I thought if I could get out of the hole I was in and show Taryn, she’d change her mind about me.”
“And you’d just quit gambling?”
“Yeah. That was the plan. But the more I played, the further behind I got. There was this guy offering loans. I didn’t have much other than my Jeep, but it was enough to get a few thousand. And the few thousand turned into more.”
“Why don’t you just go back and explain—?” Hayley said.
“There’s no way I’m telling Mom,” he said, cutting her off. “You know what my dad did to the family. I’d rather die.”
Chapter 89
This guy was a perfect illustration of about a hundred sermons I’d heard. The Prodigal Son (without the returning part), building your house on sand, sin catching up with you—all those verses were crouching on the floor of this abandoned house.
I’ve always heard it’s best not to hide from your problems. That if you own up to your mistakes and face them, it’s a lot better in the long run than trying to erase them by running. I didn’t think Gunnar would take that advice, but I tried anyway.
“What if you went to those guys and said you’d pay them back? You could work out a deal where—”
“These guys don’t make deals. You get a week—maybe two at the most—and if you don’t pay them, they break your arm. Add a week to that and you start seeing blood.”
“It’s been four weeks since you disappeared,” Hayley said.
Gunnar nodded. “These guys aren’t looking for me to send a get-well card. They want to make sure I never come back.”
“Our church can help you,” Ashley said. “They have meetings for people who have gambling problems.”
“I can quit anytime I want,” he said. “I just need some money.”
I’d always heard the first step in getting out of trouble was realizing you had a problem. It didn’t look like Gunnar was even ready to take a baby step in that direction.
Something rumbled outside, and Hayley stepped to the window. “Somebody’s here.”
“It’s that dark car we saw at your aunt’s house,” Ashley said. “They’re headed for the cemetery.”
Gunnar raced to the window and ducked when he saw the car. His whole body shook. He grabbed a plastic bag with some supplies from the corner—his emergency stash, I guess—and turned to head downstairs.
“Where are you going?” I said.
“I have to get out of here. Can you stall those guys?”
“Come back with us,” Hayley said.
“I’ll be back. Tell my mom I love her and not to worry.”
The car pulled up at the front, and doors slammed. I didn’t want Gunnar to run, but if these guys caught him we’d probably never see him again. “Go out the secret exit. We’ll cover you.”
“Thanks.” He slipped into the entrance.
I made sure the door was closed tightly.
We watched the goons with the big arms walk to the front porch. I took an unopened can of corn and knocked out the rest of a pane of glass. It crashed down on the outside roof, and the goons rushed into the house.
“What are we going to do?” Ashley said.
I held up a hand. “Just stay cool.”
The three guys ran up the stairs. One held a gun in front of him, and I realized why Ashley had described him as looking like a shark. Ashley and Hayley stepped back as the three walked in and looked at the stash of bags and food scattered around the room.
The Shark put his gun back in its holster. “Followed you guys from Gunnar’s house. You havin’ a campout?” He spoke the way people on those New York cop shows do. Sounded like he was swallowing his words.
“Just came to find our friend’s stuff,” I said.
The Shark held his arms away from his sides as he walked around the room. I guess his muscles were so big he couldn’t hold them closer.
The second one with long sideburns and a dark coat stepped forward. He spoke with a raspy voice and pointed at Hayley and Ashley. “We saw you two over at Gunnar’s house, didn’t we?”
“She’s his cousin,” I said. “You know where Gunnar is?”
The man scowled.
The Shark rifled through the plastic bags. “Looks like somebody’s been here awhile. This your stuff?”
I looked at Ashley and Hayley and motioned toward the hall. “Come on, let’s go.”
The third guy put a hand out. “Answer the question.”
There’s a feature on my phone that makes it ring. I stuck my hand in my pocket and pushed the button. It chirped on cue, and I opened it. “Yeah, Dad, we’re at the haunted house.” I looked at the guy with the sideburns. “Okay, we’re on our way.”
“You’re not going anywhere,” The Shark said. He looked at the other two. “Search it.”
When the guys moved into the hall, I saw our chance. I slammed the door, locked it, and raced for the secret passage.
“You kids have a nice time in there,” The Shark said. “We can wait.”
We were out the door and racing for our bikes. I prayed the guys wouldn’t see us, but one yelled as we rode past the house. I was ahead of Ashley and Hayley, looking for any path or hiding place off the road.
The goons’ car revved behind us.
We rounded a corner, and I spotted a small trail beside the road. The three of us got off just as the black car passed.
Chapter 90
After the goons returned to search the house, Bryce called the police and we made our way to Hayley’s aunt’s house. When we told her we had seen Gunnar, she nearly fainted. The police officer said he’d check out the house and retrieve Jeff’s things.
“What will you do to those goons?” I asked the officer.
“They’re probably long gone by now,” he said.
We went to the Alexanders’ house on our way home and told them we’d found some of Jeff’s things, but not all of them. They both seemed glad but were just as puzzled as we were about why Jeff would hide the stuff there.
I asked them about the construction guy, Clarke Jeppeson. Mr. Alexander said he’d never heard of him.
“Any idea what the initials DM stand for?” I said.
He shook his head.
“Maybe if we look a little further through Jeff’s room,” I said.
“You’re more than welcome,” the man said.
We looked through Jeff’s closet and school backpack but didn’t find any clues.
Finally Bryce sat on the bed. “Doesn’t make sense that Jeff took the stuff himself. He would have known how much it would have hurt his mom and dad.”
Mr. and Mrs. Alexander joined us in the room. I could tell it was hard for them to be here. You can prepare yourself for
something for a long time and still not be ready for it.
“I knew you would come through for us,” Mr. Alexander said. “Where do you think the rest of the stuff is?”
“We’re hoping to find it soon,” Bryce said.
“We can’t thank you two enough for . . . well, for just being here,” Mrs. Alexander said. “We’d like you to help us go through Jeff’s things when we’re ready . . . so we can donate them.” Her lip quivered. “He asked us to give his clothes to someone who needed them as soon as we could manage. He said you two might help.”
“We’d be glad to,” Bryce said.
I couldn’t imagine going through your son’s stuff to give it away. Something didn’t seem fair about it. I’d heard about grown-ups having to go through their parents’ things to give away after they had died, but to give your teenage son’s stuff away . . .
They offered us dinner and we stayed. The whole house was full of food, but none of us felt like eating. Mr. Alexander looked at his wife after we sat down and said we should pray. They were both so drained, I knew they wouldn’t make it through.
I kicked Bryce under the table, and he started. “God, you know how much it hurts to have your son die. Thanks for giving us Jeff, for his smile, his laugh, his jokes, and the life he brought to all of us. Amen.”
Mrs. Alexander smiled through her tears. She asked what jokes Jeff told, and Bryce got the digital recorder out. We laughed till we cried, then laughed some more.
Mom and Sam came over later, and we all sat up late telling Jeff stories.
I went to the bathroom for some tissues to wipe my eyes and passed Jeff’s room. On a whim, I opened the nightstand by his bed and found a notebook with a pen attached to the spiral.
Inside I found a passage about me.
I wish I could tell somebody how I feel about Ashley. Maybe Bryce would understand. I hope I can get up enough nerve to ask her to the eighth-grade dance next year.
I closed my eyes and the tears came. “I would have said yes,” I whispered.
A few pages from the back I found another entry.
Got a call back from DM today. They said it would be tough keeping all this from Mom and Dad, but that if they had the school’s approval, they could go ahead with it. I hope it works out.
Chapter 91
The funeral was small, just the Alexanders and a few friends from church. Because of the media coverage and people from our class, the Alexanders planned a memorial service where everyone could participate.
Jeff looked like he was sleeping, and once I thought how funny it would be if he sat up straight and said, “Just kidding.”
The burial at the cemetery was only for the family, but the Alexanders said they wanted Ashley and me and our family there. A slight breeze blew through the trees, and the sun was brilliant. It was a day Jeff would have loved.
I saw Mr. Alexander look at the tree house several times during the service. Our pastor let us say a final good-bye. Then Mr. and Mrs. Alexander spent a few minutes with Jeff’s casket. There were lots of tears, but the overall feel of the whole day was hope. We were grieving, but I knew I would see Jeff again.
I looked at Sam and Leigh. They didn’t have the same belief in God or the hope I did, and it hurt. I wondered what it would take to get them to believe.
On the way to our car, the Alexanders handed me the videodisc the police had found in the old house. “We haven’t figured out how to watch this, and it has your name on it.”
“I’ll make you a copy and give it to you tomorrow at the memorial service,” I said.
When we got home, I stuck the disk into our computer and clicked the Play button. At first I thought it wasn’t going to play, but then the disk buzzed and a shot of Jeff’s bedroom flashed on-screen. In the corner was the time and date—it was a couple of days before he left for the bike trip.
Jeff plopped on the bed. He had a towel around his neck and was smiling. “Guess if you’ve found this I’m not around anymore. The way I’m feeling, I’m not sure I’ll make it through the bike ride. If I do, it’ll be a miracle.
“I knew you’d figure out that I took my own stuff.” He held up a key. “Mom and Dad don’t know I have this. It’s to the trophy room. Do you know why I took the stuff? Well, there’s one more surprise for you.
“There’re actually two answers to the memorabilia thing. I’m using it for a project you’ll find out about. But there’s another reason. See, I know it’s gonna be hard for my mom and dad after I go. Unlike you, I’m the only one in my family. I know how much you and Ashley like mysteries, and I told my parents about it. I figured they’d ask you guys to get involved, which means you’ll be snooping around. I think it’ll help to have you at my house.”
Jeff paused and smiled. He was always thinking, but I had no idea how much he had been looking out for his parents.
“Just one more thing. You’ll go through the eighth grade and into high school, make a lot of new friends and all that, so it’ll probably be easy to just move on. Don’t forget me.”
I touched the screen. “Not a chance.”
Chapter 92
At the memorial service the next day, people stood and told what Jeff meant to them. It was neat to see so many kids from school who weren’t Christians and didn’t go to church. Just one more thing Jeff did that amazed me.
Teachers stepped to the microphone and tearfully talked about him. Our youth pastor, Andy, told a couple of really funny stories of things Jeff had said and done.
Mr. Alexander stepped forward and thanked everyone for their support and kindness. He held a piece of paper given to him by the people in the bike ride. When he read the figure, everybody clapped. “The newspaper says even more people are giving in Jeff’s memory.”
After Jeff’s dad sat down, I thought the pastor would conclude the service. Instead, a man in a blue suit stood. He said something to Jeff’s dad, then walked to the podium.
Everyone got quiet as the man began. “My name is Tim Minaro, and I’m here on behalf of Dream Makers. We’re a group that helps deserving kids realize some dream they’ve had. Many want to go to Disney World or meet someone famous. But Jeff Alexander was different.” He looked at Jeff’s mom and dad. “In fact, one of the things he asked us to do was keep this secret from everyone, even his parents. So, if you’d like to see Jeff’s dream, meet at the middle school after the service is over.”
I looked at Bryce. “DM. Dream Makers.”
Chapter 93
I had put everything together except what was under the tarp outside the middle school.
Ashley pointed out a construction guy standing in front of the structure. “That’s the Jeppeson guy.”
A crowd filled the front of the parking lot as Tim Minaro stood on the back of a truck. Mr. Alexander handed him the box of stuff we had found at the haunted house.
Tim held a megaphone and clicked it on. “Ladies and gentlemen, what you’re about to see is the fastest fulfillment of a wish in the history of our organization. Our only regret is that Jeff couldn’t be here to see it. One of the things he told us was that there wasn’t that much to do in Red Rock.”
Everyone laughed.
“He said he wanted to give something to his friends and the kids who would come after him. With the help of Jeppeson Construction, this is the last wish of Jeff Alexander.”
The man pulled a string on the side of the tarp revealing a huge climbing wall. The crowd gasped when they saw that the wall was ridged at the top to look like the nearby red rocks. Around the base was a soft rubber pit. The wall was built so that you could climb on either side, and there were colored handholds all the way up.
I moved closer and saw something built into different levels of the climb. Insets in the wall housed footballs, baseballs, all the memorabilia Jeff had collected over the past few months. There were some empty spaces, and I guessed that’s what they were going to use the stuff in the box for.
“Is Bryce Timberline here?” Tim said.
<
br /> I stepped forward and people clapped. The man helped me into the harness you wear when you climb. “Jeff said if he couldn’t be here, you should be the first to climb to the top.”
I looked back at all my friends, at Ashley and the rest of my family, and got a lump in my throat. Jeff knew I don’t really like heights, and though the climbing wall was safe, I felt a sudden panic. I took the first few grips quickly and was about five feet off the ground. The top of the wall looked a million miles away.
At 10 feet, I saw the letter from the president and read the whole thing. I kept moving, past the Elway football and Carmelo basketball. I made the mistake of looking down and nearly quit. It felt like I was on Mount Everest.
I closed my eyes, reached out my hand, and pulled myself up to the next rung.
“You can do it, Bryce!” I heard Dylan shout from below.
“Go, Bryce!” Jeff’s mom shouted.
It was all the encouragement I needed.
At the top of the wall, in the middle, was a built-in ledge where you could sit and look at the view. I set my eyes on it and didn’t look down again. When I pulled myself to a sitting position and turned around, everybody clapped and cheered. I raised both fists to the sky.
It was then that I noticed a piece of paper taped over the ridge. I pulled it off and opened it.
Bryce,
You’ve been a great riding partner and friend. I wish I could be there with you right now, but trust me, I’ve got a view of my own that’s pretty incredible. Looking forward to seeing you soon.
Your friend,
Jeff
I put the paper down and wiped my eyes. It was almost as if Jeff were speaking to me from the grave, though I knew he’d probably dictated the note by phone while we were on our ride.
I looked at Pikes Peak in the distance and the front range of mountains. The sun lit everything so brightly that it looked like a picture.
I was about to climb down when I realized Jeff’s letter had covered something built into the wall. It was a plaque with Jeff’s picture. He was smiling that trademark smile of his.
Grave Shadows Page 10
