Detective Johnson set his hands on his hips."Not yet.Just have them wait in my office."
"Okay, kids, get in the backseat." Officer Dean opened the back door. "Better cooperate or I'll have to cuff you."
"So cuff me." Max held out her arms in front of her like it was all some kind of game.
I sort of thought the officer was joking, but I wasn't about to call his bluff. I scrambled into the backseat and scooted to the far side, leaving plenty of room for Max.
"Just get in." Officer Dean was getting annoyed.
"Come on, Max," I pleaded. "Quit fooling around."
Max lowered her arms and climbed in beside me. "I've never worn handcuffs before. I wanted to see what it was like."
I rolled my eyes.
"Relax, Jess. We're not in any kind of trouble. They'll just get our statements and release us."
"They'll call our parents. My mom and dad will freak out." I didn't tell her what I feared most—that my parents would tell me I couldn't hang out with Max anymore. Mom was already paranoid about our friendship. Max was too active and a little too adventuresome to suit her. Fortunately, my father wanted me to live as normal a life as possible despite the cancer. Not that I consider having Max as a friend normal.
Max frowned. "They won't need to call anyone." Under her breath she said, "I hope." For the first time since our crazy adventure started, Max actually looked worried.
As Officer Dean pulled away from the docks, I twisted around in my seat and looked back. The tall, skinny guy, the one we'd seen dealing drugs in the park, captured my gaze. His cold hard stare sent shivers up my back and gave me goose bumps. Maybe I'd watched too many cop shows, but I had the feeling the man would kill me if he ever got me alone. I turned around, hoping he stayed in jail for a very long time.
We waited about an hour for Detective Johnson, who eventually took our statements before lecturing us about the dangers of playing detective. "You kids could have been killed in there. The guns we use are real."
"We were only trying to help," Max said. "We didn't know you were already on to them."
"Well, we were, and you kids nearly messed up the bust." His gaze softened as he looked at my bald head and then met my eyes. "You're Jessie Miller."
I nodded and looked away.
"I know your father. Um—should you be . . .?"
"I'm in remission," I blurted out. Sometimes it seems like everybody in town knows who I am. It's pretty hard to hide when you're like the town's poster child. A lot of people have donated money to help our family pay for my medical bills.
"Well, just the same, I think you need to be careful." He picked up his pen. "Now if you would give me your phone numbers, I'll call your parents to pick you up."
"No." Max shook her head. "Please don't call. They're not home anyway. Our bikes are right down the street in the park."
Detective Johnson looked from Max to me and then back again, suspicion glinting in his blue-green eyes.
"Please." I had never seen this side of Max. She looked really scared, and I wondered why.
"All right," he finally said. "I'll let you go, but from now on, no playing cops and robbers, okay?"
"Okay," I said.
Max didn't make any promises, and that worried me.
"If you ever see anything suspicious like that again, you give me a call. Don't try to gather evidence. That's our job. " He handed each of us a business card. "Can you do that?"
"Sure." Max smiled up at him. "We'll get out of your hair so you can process those guys."
"They will go to jail, won't they?" I shifted from one foot to the other.
"Depends."
"On what?" I thought about the glaring look the drug dealer had given me, and a shiver shot through me again.
"On what we can pin on them, for one thing," Johnson said. "Their past records for another." He must have read the fear on my face because he added, "You don't have to worry, though. Most of them are repeat offenders, so I doubt they'll get out anytime soon."
I wasn't completely convinced. I knew that if the guy didn't have any previous arrests, he could post bail and be out on the streets tomorrow. I also knew about the recent trouble the local police had been having with drug dealers—especially with meth. My parents had been talking about how easy it was for drugs to be brought into rural areas like ours. Worse than that, some people made their own.
I was glad the cops caught these drug dealers, but I was also worried that there were a lot of others out there. Worried about what Max planned to do about it, I also wondered why she felt she had to do anything.
We got to my house around two thirty in the afternoon. After I gave my mom a quick hug, Max and I went straight up to my room to debrief. That's what Max called it. Debriefing. Like when you talk about what happened after an upsetting experience.
Personally, I wanted to close my eyes and take a nap. The ordeal had physically exhausted me, but my mind was still reeling. I knew one thing—I would not be telling my parents about our little adventure, and I hoped Detective Johnson wouldn't either. They might decide I couldn't hang out with Max anymore, and I didn't think I could stand that.
Max flopped down on my bed and looked up at the constellation of glow-in-the-dark stars on my ceiling for a while. They weren't exactly glowing at the moment, but you could tell what they were. All of a sudden she jumped up. "We need closure."
I wasn't exactly sure what closure meant, but the sudden light in her eyes made me wonder if I shouldn't try to talk her out of whatever she had planned.
"Come on, Jess." Max jerked open my bedroom door and headed for the stairs.
"Where are we going?" I hated that question, because with Max I always seemed to be asking it.
"You'll see."
I hated her answer even more. Actually, hate is too strong a word.Part of me always holds back, afraid of what might come next. Another part of me looks forward to whatever excitement lies ahead. One thing was for sure—having Max for a friend was never dull. I followed her down the stairs and out the front door.
"Where are you going?" Mom came to the front door as we were getting on our bikes.
"Not to worry, Mrs. Miller. We'll just be downtown."
"Are you sure you're up to the ride, Jessie?" She tipped her head to the side, looking me over.
"I'm okay. I'll take a nap when I get home."
"All right." She had that I'm-not-sure-I-believe-you look. "Be back before dinner."
"I will."
"Be careful," she called after us. "And Jessie, call me if you need a ride home."
We got on our bikes and rode into town. We ride bikes a lot, actually. It's the best way to get around since there are wide bike lanes on most of the streets in Chenoa Lake. We live in a tourist town on a huge lake.
Our town isn't very big, and it only takes about five minutes to ride from one welcome sign to the other. It's one of those lake-side communities that have more tourists than residents—at least during the summer. Thousands of tourists come to visit every year.
The town sits on the banks of Chenoa Lake in the Cascade Mountains. In fact, the town and the lake have the same name. Max actually lives in Lakeside, which begins where Chenoa Lake ends. There's another town to the north called Hidden Springs. The three small towns share a courthouse, fire department, and police department, as well as a school, Lakeview, which has grades kindergarten through 12.
Max and I rode through downtown, which consists mostly of tourist shops all decorated on the outside to make the town look like an alpine village. There are art galleries and antique stores, clothing stores and little markets, T-shirt shops and a couple of candy stores, and restaurants. Lots of restaurants. Max put on her brakes in front of the Alpine Tea and Candy Shoppe and jumped off her bike.
"This is where we're going for closure?" I relaxed a little.
"Yep." Max grinned. Her smile is a little crooked, but I figured that's because her teeth are. She probably could benefit from braces, but I doubt
her family has the money. Besides, her teeth are part of her quirky personality. There's a small gap between her two front teeth, which I think matches the gap in her brain on those times when she drags us into dangerous situations. Like the time she wanted to take a raft up to Miller Creek and shoot the rapids. That might have been fun except for the waterfall.
We'd just had a ton of rain, and with the snow melting off the mountains, the water was more furious than I'd ever seen it. Maybe my brain has a bigger hole in it than hers, cause I actually went along with the idea. I thought she knew the river. I thought she'd been on it before.
Wrong on both counts. The rafting trip was fun at first. The current took us over swells and sent us twirling in the little whirlpools. Within a few minutes I could feel the icy water seeping into my jeans and realized the raft was taking on water.
"Where did you get this thing, Max?" I had asked her. "It's leaking."
"At the thrift shop. They told me they'd fixed the leak. We'll just have to scoop the water out with our hands."
I grumbled and bailed while she managed the oars. After a few minutes, my hands felt numb and had turned a sickly shade of grayish blue.
Then I heard it, the unmistakable roar of a waterfall. And believe me when I say this was no trickle. The water picked us up and shot us forward. We both saw the drop-off at the same time and screamed. Neither of us could hear the other over the roar. I put my hands in the water and used all the strength I had to steer us toward shore.
As you might imagine, our paddling did about as much good as trying to hold the ocean back with a stick. As the raft tipped over the edge, we could see the river bouncing along about a hundred yards below. Okay, maybe it was more like twenty feet, but at the time it seemed like a long way down.
I closed my eyes and grabbed for the oarlocks, but my hands connected with the raft's slippery sides. Then I felt nothing but air as the raft abandoned us. Max and I plummeted to what I felt certain would be our death. I imagined us hitting the rocks and thinking that this might not be such a bad way to die. Quick and simple, not like the slow excruciating way you die when you have cancer.
But, of course, we didn't die. We hit the water with the force of a cannonball. The falls tumbled us around like rocks in a rock tumbler and finally spit us out into this pool of clear, sparkling water. I hit the surface sputtering and gasping for air. Max came up a second later. The first words out of her mouth were, "Wow! That was awesome."
I swear she was ready to try it again. "Max," I grumbled, "I am wet and freezing cold and I am going home. " I looked up at the cliffs on both sides of the river and mumbled,"If we can find a way out of here."
I'm not sure how we managed to climb out of that canyon that day, but we did. Then we had to hike another mile to get to the place where we had left our bikes.
Needless to say, my parents were not happy. They grounded me for a week. That's when Mom first started making noises about my selection of friends and activities. We were all surprised I didn't end up with pneumonia. Doctor Caldwell, my oncologist, said it was probably because my cell count was nearly normal, the sun was shining, and we didn't sit around to wait for help. By the time we got to our bikes, our clothes were nearly dry.
Max never said, but I suspected she got into a lot more trouble than I did. I saw bruises on her cheek and arm the next day, but she refused to tell me what had happened. "It's nothing,Jess,"she'd said. "I got these from the fall."
I didn't believe her. That was the first inkling I had that something in her life was terribly wrong. No wonder she'd been afraid when Detective Johnson mentioned calling our parents. For Max's sake, I'm glad he didn't.
CHAPTER FOUR
When we stopped in front of the Alpine Tea and Candy Shoppe, it didn't look like Max was planning anything as dangerous as a raft trip for our closure. Still I couldn't help but wonder what she was up to. I lowered the kickstand on my bike and followed Max into the shop, figuring she wanted to buy some candy. Wrong.
"Good afternoon, girls," Mrs. Cavanaugh greeted us.
"Afternoon, ma'am." Max walked past the candy counter and headed straight for the tea room.
"Hi." I waved, and then hurried to catch up to my friend. Max took a chair at a table in the corner by the window. The spot offered a great view of the lake and of the hanging baskets of flowers Mrs. Cavanaugh always planted come springtime.
I loved the tea room and sometimes came for tea with my mother. The Cavanaughs were neighbors, and their daughter, Ivy, used to be my friend. Susan Cavanaugh and my mother were friends. In fact, several of Mom's watercolor paintings were displayed on the walls of the shop.
The delicious scent of spices and fresh pastries made my mouth water. Unfortunately, being here with Max made me nervous. Like I said, I never knew what to expect. And Max wasn't exactly your tea-for-two type of person.
"What can I get for you?" Ivy sidled up to the table. Though her voice was pleasant enough, her eyes told me she didn't want us there.
I glanced over at Max, hoping for a clue as to what we wanted. All I wanted at the moment was to get out of there. "We'll have one high tea for two, please. " Max lifted her chin and spoke in a fake English accent.
Ivy rolled her eyes, and then looked at me as if to get my okay.
High tea, even though we shared it, would cost around $18, and all I had in my pocket was two dollars. We can't afford that, I started to say. Max's withering look stopped me.
"Which tea would you like?" Ivy clamped her lips together. It killed her to be nice to Max and me. I wondered if that's why Max came in—to torment the girl. Here in the shop, Ivy had no choice but to treat us with the same courtesy as she did the other customers.
"I'll have the lavender infused Lady Grey," Max told her in the same silly accent.
"Um—mint," I managed to say without laughing.
Once Ivy left, I leaned across the table. "What are you doing? I don't have enough money to pay for this."
"Relax, Jess. I'll take care of it."
"Right." I couldn't help wondering how. Maybe Max got an allowance. We'd never really talked about money, but I knew she didn't have much. A lump formed in the pit of my stomach. Did she plan on skipping out without paying? No, I told myself. Max may be eccentric, but she isn't a crook.
Looking out the window, I spotted Cooper Smally across the street. He was sitting on a bench in front of the ice-cream store, licking a supersized cone and staring at us.
"Don't look now," I said, "but Cooper's watching us."
Max turned and stared back at him. "Not for long."
She was right. Max kept staring and Cooper lasted about two seconds before looking away. He looked sad and I felt sorry for him. I'd never seen him around other kids his age. And at school he seemed about as friendless as I had been before Max came along.
"I think he likes you," Max said.
I about choked on my water. "What?"
"Haven't you noticed? He's always hanging around."
"Must be you he likes, then, cause it sure isn't me." I couldn't believe she'd say something like that.
Cooper left the seat and walked down the street to the next bench. He looked back at us, then away again. Max couldn't see him and I didn't say anything. Let him look.
The tea came and I tried my best to enjoy it. I figured, worst-case scenario, I'd have to call my dad and have him post bail. Most likely, I could charge it and tell Mrs. Cavanaugh I'd pay it later.
Mrs. Cavanaugh brought a three-tiered silver tray. We feasted on cucumber and cream cheese, smoked salmon, and deviled ham sandwiches.
Max slathered butter, strawberry preserves, and Devonshire cream over her freshly baked scone and took a dainty bite. Her eyes closed in ecstasy. "Mmm. These are my favorite."
My heart did a little somersault seeing her enjoy the food so much.I usually tried not to think about Max's home life, but there had been times I wondered if she got enough food. I usually brought extra stuff in my lunch bag, and she always ate it. I
asked her once and she told me everything was fine at home and that I worried too much. I knew she was lying, but there wasn't much I could do about it.
My favorite dessert was the chocolate-dipped strawberries. I traded Max her two berries for a tart and I ate all four of them. The strawberries were plump and ripe and red and juicy.
Worth going to jail for. The thought brought me up short. Mrs. Cavanaugh wouldn't call the police, would she? The thought of going down to the station twice in one day turned my stomach upside down.
When we'd finished our tea, Ivy brought the check. I held my breath as Max got to her feet, reached into the front pocket on her right thigh, and pulled out a wad of bills. She peeled off two tens. Stuffing the rest back in her pocket, she ambled over to the counter, paid the bill, and gave Ivy a two-dollar tip.
Still in shock, I followed Max out of the shop and over to our bikes. I figured we'd head back over to my place, but Max had other ideas. She straddled her bike and waited for me to get on mine.
"Where did you get all that money?" I probably shouldn't have mentioned it, but I really needed to know.
"Earned it," was all Max said.
"Oh." I wanted to ask how, but she shot me a warning look. "Where are we going?" I asked instead.
"I have things to do. You are going home to take a nap."
I stiffened. "I don't . . ."
"Don't argue. I promised your mother I wouldn't wear you out, and I've already done that."
"I don't need you to tell me whether or not I should take a nap." I was pouting like a little kid, but I didn't care.
"I'll see you later." She began pedaling in the opposite direction from where I lived.
"Where are you going?" I yelled after her, but she disappeared around a corner without a backward look.
"Fine," I growled. "Be that way." I wanted to follow her and find out what she was up to. Unfortunately, she was right. I did need to rest. I turned my bike around and saw that Cooper was heading in the same direction Max had taken. "See," I muttered under my breath, "he does like you." Either that or he wanted to get her alone so he could beat her up.
Max & Me Mysteries Set Page 2
