Stolen Secrets

by Jerry B. Jenkins

  “Your father will,” Ashley said.

  Danny pursed his lips. “Make those girls tell the truth.”

  Chapter 69

  I had to get to the truth. I was responsible for Danny being caught, and if he was innocent and still went to jail, I’d feel terrible.

  Danny didn’t speak to his father as he was led away.

  Mr. Ingram thanked us for calling him and followed the police cars. The look on his face haunted me through the night and through church the next day. Everyone was talking about the capture.

  Hayley called to find out what had happened, and I told her I couldn’t get Danny’s words out of my head.

  “What are you going to do?” she said.

  I thought about Tracy and Cammy. “I don’t know, but as much as I hate being around those girls, I have to do something.”

  Bryce came into the room as soon as I hung up. “Whatever you need, I’ll help,” he said.

  Chapter 70

  At school on Monday I switched my minirecorder on and slipped it into my shirt pocket. Then I met Ashley in the lunchroom. She had her brown bag and candle catalog out as she moved toward Tracy. Cammy was nowhere in sight. We heard she was making up an English test.

  “Anybody here like candles?” Ashley said in a little-girl voice.

  The girls looked at each other and rolled their eyes. Ashley went straight to Tracy and sat across from her. The others stared like Ash had leeches hanging from her.

  “Tracy, whose idea was it to make up that story, yours or Cammy’s?”

  Tracy dropped her spoon in her chocolate pudding and it slopped on her. She tried to wipe it off with a napkin, but it smeared right into her pink shirt.

  Ashley was using our mom’s method of getting the truth. One day, instead of asking if we cut a tree down, she said, “I’ll bet it was pretty hard to cut down that tree.”

  I spoke right up. “No, it wasn’t that hard. Ashley bent it down a little and I . . .” I told her everything.

  No such luck with Tracy. The pudding distracted her enough to give her time to think. With everyone at the table looking at her, she said, “We told the truth. That guy attacked us. Now the police caught him, and I’m glad.”

  “Even though he’s innocent?” Ashley said.

  A girl said, “You’re taking up for that drunk?”

  “How many more people does he have to attack before you believe us?” Tracy said.

  Ashley pursed her lips.

  Strike one against us.

  Chapter 71

  Bryce and I moved to the hall outside Cammy’s English classroom and ate. Every few minutes Bryce peeked inside.

  “She’s pulling at her hair,” he said. “It’s a wonder she’s not bald.”

  Finally we heard Cammy’s heels clacking on the floor, and Bryce clicked on his recorder. She wore a short skirt and carried a bright red purse over one shoulder. She looked really pretty.

  “Hey, Cammy,” I said as she closed the door behind her, “how’d your test go?”

  She glanced our way as if we were termites and kept walking.

  “We just talked with Tracy about the story you two made up.”

  Cammy stopped dead in her tracks and stared. She suddenly had that ugly stepsister look, like an animal backed into a corner. When she opened her mouth, I imagined I could see fangs. “What did she say?”

  “That it was the truth,” I said.

  Cammy gritted her teeth and hurried down the hall.

  Bryce switched off his recorder. “Strike two.”

  Chapter 72

  We left our ATVs at Mrs. Watson’s and walked to town so Ashley could keep trying to sell candles. We stopped at the Toot Toot Café, where Mr. Crumpus was setting out silverware for the dinner rush.

  He smiled. “Would you two get older so you can do this?”

  “We’ll be 14 soon,” Ashley said. “If you count seven months soon.”

  Mr. Crumpus noticed Ashley’s catalog. “The dance studio?”

  “Don’t tell me you’ve already bought something.”

  “Three things for the counter so far. Guess one more wouldn’t hurt.”

  “You know they caught Danny last night behind our house,” I said.

  “Yeah,” Mr. Crumpus said, writing on the sheet. “Guess I was wrong about him.”

  “What do you mean?” Ashley said.

  “Haven’t you heard? He confessed. Said he did it. A customer told me.”

  Ashley’s face turned white. “But he told us . . .”

  Mr. Crumpus excused himself to seat some customers.

  “Strike three, Ash,” I said. “Come on, let’s go.”

  Chapter 73

  We walked right by the police station, where TV news vans were parked with tall antennas and satellite dishes pointed to the sky. I wanted to go in and ask if it was true. Could I have been wrong about Cammy and Tracy?

  Bryce pecked me on the shoulder and motioned to the other side of the street. Cammy and Tracy hurried along, talking loudly. Bryce and I moved behind the corner of a building and watched.

  Tracy turned and said something. Then Cammy grabbed her arm and pulled her into an alley. Bryce nodded to the other side of the street. We hustled across to a small church, pressed our backs against the brick wall, and inched closer to the alley.

  “For the last time,” Tracy said, “I didn’t tell that Timberline kid anything. I said we didn’t make it up.”

  “You swear?”

  “Yes! I told you I’d stick with our story. You know I didn’t want to tell those reporters anything, but you made me.”

  “You liked the attention as much as I did.”

  “Yeah, and now that guy is in jail.”

  “He’d be there anyway,” Cammy said. “He’s a drunk!”

  Bryce and I ducked behind the concrete steps of the church as Tracy and Cammy walked toward the railroad tracks.

  Bryce pulled out his recorder and smiled. “Maybe strike three was just a foul tip.”

  Chapter 74

  Ashley and I hurried to the police station, where I recognized the officer with the dog from the school sleepover. “Tell him,” I said. “I’ll bet he remembers you.”

  “Who did you lose this time?” the officer said, smiling.

  “Can we talk to you about Danny?” Ashley said.

  “It’s not really my investigation. What do you want to know?”

  “Is it true he confessed?” Ashley said.

  The officer frowned. “I really can’t talk about specifics. . . .”

  I pulled out my recorder. “We think the girls are lying.”

  He dipped his head. “Really?”

  I punched the Play button. The officer leaned close, and I turned up the volume. When the recording finished, he stood. “Stay right here.”

  A few minutes later he reappeared with the chief of police, who introduced himself and showed us into a room.

  “Can we keep this?” the chief said.

  I nodded.

  The chief rubbed his cheek. “We’ve believed those girls from the start. Everything they said checked out. Even found some duct tape in that shed. Still had the price tag on it.” He turned to the canine cop. “Officer Ormsby, go to the hardware store and have them go over the register receipts. See if anybody bought some tape about that time.”

  The chief thanked us and said he’d be in touch. Then he saw Ashley’s candle catalog. “Dance studio?”

  She nodded. “Bought anything yet?”

  “There was this little thing I’ve been thinking about for the dining-room table.”

  Officer Ormsby stared at him.

  The chief cleared his throat. “It’s for my wife, Bill. Now didn’t I give you an assignment?”

  Chapter 75

  Mom and Sam were impressed. The phone rang after dinner and Sam answered. He put a hand over the mouthpiece. “They made a copy of your recording. We can go pick up the machine.”

  I was already looking for my shoes.
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  “Let’s hurry,” Sam said. “It’s supposed to rain, and the wind is already picking up.” As we headed to the car, he added, “You guys are getting good at this detective stuff. The chief said your information helped a lot.”

  Sam parked on the street across from the station, but before we could get out, Bryce grabbed Sam’s shoulder. “Wait.”

  Cammy and Tracy were being led into the police station.

  Chapter 76

  Neither Ashley nor I wanted to see Cammy and Tracy. Solving this puzzle was one thing. Taking responsibility for turning them in was another. We waited a few minutes, then walked into the police station behind Sam.

  Officer Ormsby waved us into the waiting area and handed me the recorder. “We found a duct tape purchase at the hardware store on the afternoon of the attack. A cashier remembered two girls buying the tape that day.”

  “Where are they?” Ashley said.

  “One is in the room at the end of the hall. The other is in that room.” He nodded to the other end of the station house.

  “Do they know what’s going on?” Ashley said.

  He shook his head and glanced at Sam. “Your kids are part of this investigation. Come with me.”

  Chapter 77

  Officer Ormsby led us into a small room with video monitors. On one screen we saw Tracy sitting at a table next to her father. Her hands were folded in her lap. On another screen, Cammy sat with her mother. They both looked like they needed a smoke. I felt sorry for them. They looked scared, and their parents looked grim.

  The chief went into Tracy’s room, plopped in a chair, and rubbed his face like he was exhausted. “Sorry to bring you down here tonight, but we have a development.”

  “He confessed?” Tracy’s father said.

  “No, he sure didn’t,” the chief said. “Still says he never touched your daughter.” He looked at Tracy. “Anything you want to tell me?”

  Tracy frowned and shook her head.

  “Since we can’t find much hard evidence linking him, we’d like you and your friend to take a polygraph. Know what that is?”

  Tracy shook her head.

  “A lie detector test?” her father said.

  “Yeah. This guy is in big trouble, and we need the test as evidence.”

  It looked to me like Tracy’s face turned pale. Her dad looked at her.

  “I’ll leave you alone for a minute,” the chief said. “Think about it.”

  As soon as the chief was gone, Tracy’s father said, “What’s the matter?”

  Tracy started crying.

  The chief then visited Cammy and her mother, pulled out the recorder, and set it on the table.

  “What’s this, Officer?” Cammy’s mom said.

  The chief looked at Cammy. “You want to tell her, or do you want me to?”

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  On the other video screen Tracy had put her head on the table and was sobbing.

  “Cammy,” the chief said, “we have an innocent man in our jail, don’t we? Isn’t it time you told us the truth?”

  “You don’t believe her?” Cammy’s mom said.

  The chief stared at Cammy. “This is your chance. Right here. Get it out in the open.”

  Cammy seemed to shrink into her chair, like the Wicked Witch of the West in The Wizard of Oz. “I told you the truth. Why don’t you believe me?”

  The chief pushed a button on the recorder, and Cammy’s voice filled the room.

  Cammy’s mom turned to her, looking like she was about to explode.

  Finally Cammy spoke. “Tracy and I were goofing off at school, and I knew you’d ground me for being late to babysit. When we went past the Toot Toot and saw that guy, we figured everybody would believe us. We bought the tape and tied each other up.”

  I looked at Bryce. He looked as sad as I felt. Sometimes the truth makes you feel bad and good at the same time.

  Chapter 78

  The whole story came out in the news the next day. One TV station announced a series called “When Kids Lie.”

  The TV news also showed Danny walking out of jail with his mother and father. He had shaved and was smiling, his arm in a sling. The family waved off reporters as they drove away.

  I wondered if Danny knew we were the ones who had helped get him released.

  All anyone could talk about at school the next few days was Cammy and Tracy. A rumor said that one or both of them had run away, but we had learned not to believe everything we heard.

  I couldn’t stop thinking about Sam. He had been on the phone nonstop one night and in his office till late another. Mom seemed upset and hadn’t worked much on her new book.

  Leigh became almost a stranger. She stayed out—“studying,” she said—and when she came home she just went to her room. She didn’t ask Mom or Sam to let her drive and get her night hours in. The tension was about to kill me.

  Who was Sam?

  Chapter 79

  The fateful night came when we had to turn in our candle orders. I had only five on my sheet. I tried to get Mom to buy more, but she said Mrs. Gunderson at the dance studio would understand. She didn’t know Mrs. Gunderson very well.

  We handed our orders in at the beginning of the hour, and when the session was over, we all sat on the floor.

  “You know that the person from each class who turns in the most orders gets a special prize,” Mrs. Gunderson said. She held up the ballet shoes, and I knew this was the perfect Sunday school example of coveting. I wanted the shoes bad, but I had no chance.

  “Well, the person with the most sales . . .”

  Please don’t drag this out.

  “. . . is Ashley Timberline.”

  It felt like I’d won an Academy Award without being nominated. I couldn’t believe it. Surely many other girls had sold more than five candles.

  Mrs. Gunderson held out the shoes and smiled. “Ashley sold 45 units.”

  Everybody clapped as I walked to the front. “But, Mrs. Gunderson,” I whispered, “I didn’t sell 45.”

  She showed me two order slips. The one on top had five measly signatures. The one on the bottom was filled with 40 items and only one signature.

  Harriet Ingram’s.

  An envelope was taped to it. When everyone had gone, I opened it and pulled out a folded sheet.

  Dear Ashley,

  Officer Ormsby told us what you and your brother did. We can never thank you enough. Danny is doing better. He’s at home now and says he wants to change. We’re taking him for counseling next week.

  I’m so glad I got to meet you, and I hope these orders help.

  Love,

  Harriet

  Chapter 80

  Jeff Alexander called after school and asked me to come to his house. “I have something to show you,” he said.

  I got there in record time. Jeff met me outside and waved me to the garage. He had a Boston Red Sox hat pulled low, and he seemed to have a spring in his step.

  He opened the garage door slowly and I saw the tandem, blue with silver stripes. The backseat had a carrier behind it.

  “A bike shop in the Springs donated it,” Jeff said, beaming. “Want to try it?”

  I hopped on the front, and Jeff climbed on the back. The driveway had gravel on it, so it was difficult getting to the street, but once we were there, we took off. Jeff didn’t weigh much, and we flew down the hill whooping and hollering.

  I looked back and saw Jeff pull off his hat and wave it in the air. “Wahoo! This is going to be the best summer ever!”

  His bald head used to make me cringe, but now I barely noticed. Jeff was Jeff, hair or not.

  I pulled over at a little park. Kids screamed as they ran through the playground equipment. Jeff and I found two open swings and sat.

  “Can’t believe I’m actually going to do this,” he said.

  “And I’m going to be there the whole way.”

  We talked about the supplies we would need and how much training we’d
have to have before the race started.

  “It’s kind of like the Tour de France,” Jeff said. “It’ll be hard, but is there anything good in life that isn’t hard?”

  “Twinkies.”

  He laughed, then got quiet. “Ever had anything that stuck in your head that you couldn’t get rid of? You know, something you couldn’t figure out?”

  Sam, I thought. “Sure. Why?”

  “Why God lets bad stuff happen.” He pulled his hat low over his eyes again. “I don’t blame God anymore about this. I mean, I don’t think he gave me cancer to punish me—I used to. I tried to think of all the things I’d done wrong and figure out which one made me get this.” He pointed to his head. “But I’m never going to get married or have kids. I might not even get to graduate high school—I can tell the doctors even think eighth grade is a stretch.”

  “You’re gonna beat this,” I said. “The medicine they have, the treatment. You’ll probably outlive all of us.”

  Jeff smiled. “I hope. But what if . . . what if we don’t even get to go on this ride?”

  “We’re riding in the mountains this summer together. That’s it. End of story.”

  Jeff smiled even bigger. “Yeah. We’re really going to do it, aren’t we, Bryce?”

  Chapter 81

  Bryce and I agreed that we would tell only one person we could trust about the whole thing, and I chose Hayley. I didn’t want word that we were responsible for uncovering Tracy and Cammy’s lie getting back to them any more than I wanted to date Skeeter Messler.

  Hayley promised she wouldn’t tell anyone. “I hear they might be taken to the detention center. That place is as awful as jail. Maybe worse.”

  When I got home from dance class, Mom handed me a letter that had been stuck in the newspaper slot under our mailbox.