Max & Me Mysteries Set
Page 15
It still upset me that Deputy Keagan could insinuate that Max and I had something to do with it. “We’ll just have to prove him wrong,” I murmured as I closed my eyes.
The next morning I stayed in bed for a long time, waiting for my body to cooperate with my mind. I wanted to get up, get dressed, and ride my bike out to the farm. Wishful thinking, I know. With the way I felt I’d probably make it as far as our driveway.
Mom brought me breakfast in bed and said I should rest. I didn’t want to, but I didn’t seem to have much choice. I was just too weak. Over the last two days I’d tried to do too much and was paying for it now. Around noon, I managed to get dressed and haul myself down to the lawn swing. I could hear Sam and the twins playing in their tree fort next door. Mom was humming a tune while she set up her paints and easel a few feet away from me.
“Hi, sweetie.” She stopped singing when she heard me come out. “Feeling better?”
“A little.” I dropped onto the swing and settled the quilt over me. “Mom?”
“Hmm?”
“Remember when we were driving home from the hospital? You said something about Mrs. Truesdale’s son. You promised to tell me later, but I never got a chance to ask you about it.”
“Well …” She squeezed some green paint onto her palette. “First of all, you need to know that Fred isn’t a bad person. I don’t share his point of view, but I understand why he feels the way he does.”
“You mean about wanting his mother to move into a place for old people?”
“He wants his mother in a safe place. He’s afraid that she’ll fall or that something bad will happen to her. What he doesn’t understand is that Amelia loves that farm and, for right now, at least, she’s not in any imminent danger.” Mom had already spread shades of blue and white over the canvas to create a sky. Pastel tans, browns, and greens made a background for the land. Now she dabbed on small strokes of green in the form of a tree.
“I just don’t think trying to force her to give up the farm is a good idea.”
“I don’t either.” I fluffed up my pillow. “Do you think he’s the one who ruined all her stuff?”
“No.” Mom seemed pretty definite. “Fred isn’t that sort of person. And besides, why would he break into the house and rummage around in the attic?”
“I thought the same thing, but who else would it be?”
“I have no idea.”
“Max said Carlos was gone.”
She frowned. “Yes.”
“Don’t you think it’s kind of strange that he’d leave without telling anyone?”
“Not really. I heard that he was living here illegally. Many of the migrant workers are.”
The phone rang and Mom went inside to answer it. A few seconds later she came back out and handed the phone to me. “It’s Max.”
“Hi.” I watched Mom go back to her painting and decided to go inside so I wouldn’t disturb her.
“I’m coming into town to deliver some stuff. Do you want to meet me at the tea shop?” Max said.
“I’d like to, but I don’t think I can ride my bike that far.”
“Okay,” she said. “I’ll come to your place. I have to stop at the tea shop first, so give me an hour.”
“Is everything okay?” I asked.
“Yeah, it’s cool. No break-ins or anything. We made more sachets and cookies after you guys left. Molly stayed inside the house so we could hear her if she barked.”
I felt better all of a sudden. Max sounded happy, and she was coming by to see me. Somehow she always managed to cheer me up.
Two hours passed and still no Max. I phoned out to the farm, but Amelia hadn’t seen her. When I told Mom, she offered to drive me around to look for her. We stopped by the tea shop, but Janet Cavanaugh hadn’t seen her. “Can we drive out to the farm?” I asked. “Maybe something happened on the way.”
“I was about to suggest that.” Mom chewed on her lip. She didn’t say so, but I know she felt that Max had a little too much freedom.
“You don’t think Mrs. Truesdale should have let her ride her bike into town alone?”
“No, honey, I don’t. It’s dangerous. There are so many predators out there these days. And it is summer. We have so many tourists.”
As we drove, I watched along the side of the road. About halfway there, I spotted what looked like the tip of a wheel. “Stop.”
Mom slammed on her brakes. “What is it?”
“I saw something back there on the other side of the road. Can you back up?”
Mom put the car in reverse, stopping where I said. We both got out of the car and hurried across the road.
“Max!” I screamed her name the minute I saw her. The bike lay in a twisted mess. The trailer she’d hooked onto the back of it to carry Amelia’s orders was overturned in the muddy ditch. Max lay crumpled a few feet in front of the bike, smeared with mud and blood.
“What took you so long?” Max moaned as she tried to sit up.
“Don’t try to move, Max,” Mom said. “I’m calling for an ambulance.”
Max put her head back down. “Somebody ran into me and drove away.”
“Better send the sheriff too,” Mom said into the phone. “Looks like a hit-and-run.”
I couldn’t believe what Max was telling us. I dropped to my knees at Max’s side, wishing I could do something to help her. Mom crouched down beside me, the phone still open. “Can you tell if anything is broken?”
“My head. I flipped over the handlebars. Knocked me out for a while. My arm hurts.”
“I’d better call Amelia.” Mom punched the speed dial on her cell phone, and Amelia arrived in her pickup at the same time as the rescue truck and sheriff’s deputy.
As it turned out, Max made it through the accident without too much damage. She had a gash on the head and one arm and lots of bruises, but nothing was broken. Mom and I sat in the waiting room at the hospital while the doctor stitched her up. Amelia insisted on being with Max the whole time.
While we waited, I thought about everything that had happened. First Amelia’s slashed tire, then the break-in at the house and somebody trashing her sachets and the other things she’d made. Now someone had run Max off the road and totaled her bike. Someone was out to get Amelia Truesdale and didn’t care who got hurt in the process. I wondered then if Carlos had really left town or if someone had forced him to leave, or worse. Maybe the person behind the burglary and vandalism had something to do with Carlos’s disappearance. I thought about Martin, the person Amelia had hired to take Carlos’s place, and realized I hadn’t met him yet.
More than anything I wanted to get to the bottom of this crime spree, but what could I do? Right then an aide, dressed in blue scrubs, wheeled Max into the waiting room.
“We’re ready to go.” Amelia looked like she needed the wheelchair more than Max did. “Amy, do you think you could drive us back to my pickup?”
“Of course.” Mom put in a call to Dad to let him know Max was okay and they were heading back to the farm.
Amelia sat up in front with Mom, and I crawled in back with Max. “What did the deputy say?” I asked once we’d gotten into our seat belts.
“There’s some paint on the cart and my bike. They figure someone’s got some front-end damage. They’ll try to find the person who did it.”
“Did you see who hit you?”
Max looked down at her arm. “Sort of. I heard the engine and got a quick look before he hit me. All I saw was this old beat-up truck coming at me. I caught a glimpse of the driver, but I have no idea what he looks like.”
“I can’t imagine who would purposely do such a thing.” Amelia glanced into the backseat. “I’m so sorry, Max. I think it might be best if we not go out alone. At least not until the sheriff can get to the bottom of this. In fact, I wouldn’t blame you if you went back to live with the Millers. I’m suddenly dangerous to be around.” She turned back to look at Mom. “I honestly can’t come up with a reason for all this. It’s as th
ough someone has something against me.”
“Max and I were talking about that after that guy broke into your house,” I said. “What if someone wants to buy your farm? I mean, it’s worth a lot of money, isn’t it?”
“Yes.” She frowned. “The realtor is an old friend. He’s told me a number of times that I should consider selling. We’ve talked about it, but Charlie would never do anything like this. Besides, he owns a silver SUV.”
I wasn’t convinced of Charlie’s innocence, but let it go.
“What about a developer?” I asked.
“She has a point, Amelia,” Mom said. “Suppose someone contacted Charlie and discovered the property wasn’t for sale. When did Charlie last talk to you about selling the farm?”
Way to go, Mom. I flashed a grin at Max.
Amelia rubbed at her forehead. “Several months ago. It’s gotten to be a game with us. Every once in a while he’ll call and ask if I’m ready to sell. I always say no.” She shook her head. “I can’t imagine anyone wanting my property badly enough to run down a 12-year-old girl.”
“What about the new guy working for you?” Max asked.
“Martin? Not possible. He’s been in Seattle for the last week. His mother has been ill. He’s due back tomorrow.”
Not impossible either, I thought. “Mom? Could I stay with Max tonight?” I didn’t want Max to be alone. Not that I could do much if something happened, but I’d feel better if I could keep an eye on both Max and Amelia. Besides, I had a plan and needed Max to help me.
Mom glanced at Amelia. “I don’t know, Jessie.”
“Please.”
“It’s fine with me,” Amelia said. “But we’d better ask Max if she’s up to having a visitor.”
Please, please, please. I offered a silent plea. When I stole a look at Max, my stomach took a tumble. I knew what she was going to say before she said it.
“Not a good idea, Jess. I need to rest. Maybe tomorrow.”
She had a distant look in her eyes like she might be planning something without me. Maybe she was still in shock from the accident.
“Max is right, Jessie,” Mom said. “You should both take it easy.” We stopped at Amelia’s pickup. The bike and cart, along with its contents, were gone—probably at the sheriff’s office or the impound lot where the cops went through stuff looking for evidence. A hit-and-run was a crime, and this obviously wasn’t Max’s fault. They had to investigate this one.
Max got out of our car to ride with Amelia. “I’ll call you tomorrow.” She looked sleepy, probably from the pain pills the doctor had given her.
Disappointment hung around my shoulders while Mom and I drove back to our house. I didn’t know whether to be mad or worried or just plain hurt. Our friendship should have been more solid, but with Max I never knew what to expect.
Mom pulled in the driveway and stopped the car, then gave me a worried look. “I’m going to get your brother. I’d like you to lie down.”
I nodded. No use in arguing. Besides, I could hardly keep my eyes open. I hated being such a wimp. Maybe that’s why Max hadn’t wanted me to stay. She was like a parent sometimes, thinking I shouldn’t try to do too much. That I might get sick again.
Tears pricked my eyes. I was feeling sorry for myself again. I hated when that happened. It’s just that sometimes I’d give anything to be strong and healthy. Brushing away the tears with my sleeve, I headed for the back porch and fell asleep before I even had a chance to think about the trouble Mrs. Truesdale and Max were having. I don’t remember much about the rest of the evening. I think I ate dinner before my dad carried me up to bed.
I didn’t wake up until 10:30 the next morning. Yawning, I slipped my feet into my slippers and put one of Dad’s hooded sweatshirts on over my pajamas. The sun was shining and I felt almost normal. I looked in the bathroom mirror, glad to see that the dark circles under my eyes had almost disappeared.
“Hey, sleepyhead.” Mom gave me a hug and planted a kiss on the top of my bald head before taking a protein drink out of the fridge and setting it on the counter. She’d probably made it earlier. I had to drink at least one of them a day to build myself up.
I hitched myself onto the swivel bar stool and took a sip. Mmm, raspberry.
“What would you like for breakfast this morning?” Mom asked. “I have some blueberry pecan waffles left and some Canadian bacon I could heat up for you.”
“That sounds good.” I was actually hungry. Probably because I hadn’t eaten much for dinner. “Did Max call?”
“Not yet. I suspect she slept in too. She had quite a day yesterday.”
I nodded. “Hope she’s okay.”
“I imagine she’ll be sore, but she’s one lucky girl.” Mom set a waffle and two pieces of bacon on a plate and put them in the microwave.
I thought about calling Max, but decided against it. She needed her sleep like I had needed mine. Sam came in from outside and leaned up against me. I ruffled his thick dark hair, feeling a burst of jealousy. My hair had been like his once. I brushed the thought away, determined not to get into the poor-me mode today. I had plans.
After breakfast, I’d get dressed and maybe try to ride my bike into town. I wanted to find out if the sheriff had found out anything about the guy who’d run down Max. I also wanted to stop in at the realtor’s office to see Charlie. I was pretty good at sizing people up, and I wanted to have a talk with the man Amelia called an old friend.
“Would you play a game with me?” Sam stepped back.
“Um. Maybe later, Sam. I have stuff to do.” The microwave beeped. Mom took out the plate and set the steaming waffle and sizzling bacon in front of me.
“He’s been waiting for you to get up, Jessie,” Mom said. “He’s missed you. Why don’t you play with him for a while? His attention span isn’t all that long.”
Smiling down at Sam, I picked up the syrup and poured some on my waffle. “What do you want to play?”
“Monopoly.” He tore off toward the family room where I could hear him opening the cupboard where we kept the games.
“He’s terrible at that game.”
Mom laughed. “Your dad’s been helping him. You might be surprised.”
I used my fork to slice a corner off the waffle. If Max didn’t call by noon, I would call her.
Mom called me in a little before noon, but it wasn’t to eat lunch. Sam and I had gone from Monopoly to putting together a puzzle.
That’s when they told me about Max being missing.
Like I said earlier, I tore up to my room and basically threw a fit. It took an hour for me to calm down. I knew I wasn’t doing Max any good by crying. I needed to pull myself together and think this through.
I washed my face and got dressed in my jeans and a long-sleeved rust-colored top. Since the sun was out, I put on a floppy-brimmed denim hat with a pink and white peony-like flower holding the brim up in the front.
I found Mom in the laundry room folding clothes. “We have to do something.”
She gave me a blank look. “Oh, you mean about Max. I don’t see what that would be, Jessie. The police are looking for her.”
“You said they think she ran away.”
“That’s a possibility.”
“No. It isn’t. Mom, she would never leave Amelia. Not with all this awful stuff going on. Somebody took her. I’ll bet it was the same person who ran into her yesterday.”
“Or maybe she got scared and ran away.”
I started to argue and decided it wouldn’t do me any good. I knew Mom wouldn’t let me go anywhere alone, and I also knew she wouldn’t take me where I needed to go. I went back up to my room and called Amelia.
“Mom told me about Max. Have you heard anything? Have the police found her?”
“Oh, Jessie, I don’t know what to think. No. The police haven’t found her. I know they have an Amber alert out, but I’m concerned they aren’t taking her disappearance seriously.”
“When did you last see her?” I asked.
“Molly was barking?”
“Yes, but I didn’t see or hear anyone. I let her in and she settled right down. When I got up this morning at six, Max was gone. I’ve looked everywhere. There’s no sign of her, but …”
“What?” I sensed doubt in her voice.
“She had gotten dressed. Her pajamas were lying on the bed, and her tennis shoes were gone. Her backpack was gone too. I suppose that’s why the sheriff thought she had run away.”
This wasn’t looking good. I wondered if Max had gotten up during the night to go snooping around. I suggested this to Amelia.
“I suppose that’s possible,” she said. “We’d talked about the accident and went over everything that’s happened. But where would she go? She didn’t have her bike, and my boat is still in the boathouse.”
I was getting more frustrated by the minute. I told Amelia I would be praying for Max and tried to sound hopeful. I had another idea I thought might work. Cooper Smally had been out of town, but maybe he was back by now. I dialed his number and dropped onto my bed.
“Hey, Cooper,” I said when he answered. “Max is missing.”
“What?” His voice sounded lower than I remembered, but then he was at that age. Puberty. I told him what had been happening while he’d been gone and explained what I wanted. “So can you come over? Mom won’t let me go anywhere by myself, but if I’m with you …”
“Sure. I’ll come. Are you sure you can ride your bike into town?”
“I think so. If I can’t, I have an alternate plan.”
“Okay. See you in about twenty minutes.”
“Oh, wait. Do you have a camera?”
“Y-e-s.” He drew out the word, apparently wanting an explanation.