In Between (30 page)

“Why would you possibly—”

“No time for your questions.” She looks around, checking for eavesdroppers, and her voice lowers. “We must move quickly. I have received credible intel that Sam Dayberry has been socializing with another woman.”

“Well, why wouldn’t he? He’s waited on you for an entire year, and look where that’s gotten him.”

“I did not ask for your sass! I am not bringing you along to think. I am taking you to work.”

Warning bells clang in my head. And it’s not a tiny little ring. It’s more like the kind that would go off right before the earth exploded.

“Where are we going?”
Clang! Clang!

Maxine rubs her hands together—her gloved hands. Apparently whatever we’re doing, she doesn’t plan on leaving fingerprints.

“You haven’t said you’ll accept the mission.”

I exhale like a bull and stare her down.

“Do you choose to—”

“Yes! Yes! Get on with it!”

“First, we need to get you suited up.”

“I am not changing.”

“But we can’t be seen.”

“It’s broad daylight! Do you really think all this black you’ve caked on yourself is going to make you invisible?”

Maxine picks a stray leaf off her black turtleneck and puffs up. “It’s a very important mission, Katie Parker, and I don’t like your attitude. We might be out until the wee hours of the morning, for all you know, Miss Smarty Pants.”

I close my eyes and massage my temples. My head doesn’t hurt now, but moments like these are just a breeding ground for migraines.

“Prepare for take-off.”

Maxine hands me a lilac-colored helmet.

“My own helmet?” My attitude softens at her sweet gesture, even if the helmet does have what looks to be a small shrub duct taped to it.

She shrugs. “My insurance doesn’t cover head trauma.” Maxine tightens her own hot pink, now heavily disguised helmet. “Follow me.”

I have to practically run to keep up with her, as Maxine scurries toward the back of the building, stopping occasionally to duck and survey the premises. I’m waiting for a nice drop and roll.

“You want to tell me what this is about?” My voice is low, but loud enough to carry to the crazy woman in front of me.

“It’s Sam. I found out where he’s been going—who he’s been spending his precious time with.”

“Where?”

“At Trudy Marple’s house. That floozy. That . . . that tart! Why, she doesn’t even try to color her old gray hair. And—” Maxine turns around, her face drawn in disgust. “She wears muumuus.” Swiveling around, Maxine picks up the pace and leads me to a wooded area across the street from the campus.

Grabbing my hand, Maxine yanks me a few feet into the woods, and there, propped against a giant maple tree, is Ginger, her bicycle.

Pulling some strategically placed twigs and branches from her bike, Maxine walks Ginger out of the trees and into a clearing. At her impatient hand signal, I toss my backpack in the metal basket near the horn. I throw a leg over the seat, and following Maxine’s lead, begin to pedal.

Lord, if you are real . . . or if you even answer prayers from a girl dumb enough to get on a bicycle built for two with a deranged senior citizen bent on stalking her geriatric, cheating non-boyfriend, I just want to say I can’t really afford to get in any more trouble right now. So just remember this was not my idea.

I can’t say no to Maxine. I’m sure you know what I mean.

And we pedal at speeds worthy of the Tour de France. Through yards, fields, and a small stream I didn’t even know existed, cutting across an elementary playground, past the rural fire department, and then finally into a subdivision of newly constructed homes.

“Lean!”

Maxine throws her arm up to signal a right turn, and we take it so fast, we’re nearly horizontal.

I sigh with relief when the pedals slow down and Maxine allows us to coast. She directs us onto Apple Blossom Street, and the bike skids to a stop in the driveway of a gray two-story home.

“Let’s move.” Maxine leaps off and runs around the house toward the back yard.

My only choice is to follow her, but I’m thoroughly confused. “Is this the house?”

“No! Amateur.”

When Maxine opens the gate in the chain-link fence, dread settles in my stomach like I swallowed the weighted ball from PE. “We can’t go through there! Do you even know who lives here? What if there’s a rabid, angry, starving pit bull in—”

I’m yanked through the opening, and the two of us tear across the yard and out another gate.

“There.” Maxine points at the back of a large brick home. “There’s where the little cheat is.”

We cross another large lot and close the distance between us and the object of Maxine’s loathing, a red brick Colonial, surrounded by an extra tall privacy fence.

“You think Sam’s in there?” I can’t even see in there for the fence.

The house in her sight, her eyes narrow like a reptile’s. “Oh, I know he is.”

“So do you want to walk around and see if his truck is there?”

Maxine tosses her head back and laughs. “Silly child! That would be too easy. What I have in mind for us takes skill and strategic planning.”

I roll my eyes.

“Plus, I think he keeps his truck in her garage when he’s here.” Maxine squats down, intertwines her fingers, and makes a basket with her hands. “I ain’t gettin’ any younger, Sweet Pea, up you go.”

I look at her hands, then back at Maxine. “No, way.”

She moves her head from side to side, and her neck gives a
crack
and a
pop
. “Yup, right now. Time’s a wasting.”

We couldn’t just read today, could we? Nooo. Of course not. “Oh, all right! If I do this, then can we leave?”

“Need I remind you, Agent Sixteen, you accepted this mission.”

“Agent Sixteen?” Understanding dawns. “Like my age? So you must be Agent One Hundred and—”

“Never mind! Just stick your foot in my hands, so I can hoist you on up.”

I pause to stare at Maxine like she’s crazy. ’Cause she is.

“Katie, either you do it, or you’d better start figuring out a way to heave me up there, because we’re not leaving till one of us gets a good view into that house.”

I plant my left foot in the step she’s made for me, grip her shoulder with one hand, and at her count of three, reach for the top of the privacy fence.

“Okay, got it.”

“You sure you have it?” Maxine calls sweetly.

“Yeah.” Kind of painful though, what with the fence digging into my chest and all. I can’t imagine how uncomfortable this would be if I didn’t have my super-turbo padded bra on today.

“Absolutely positive?”

“Yes, Maxine.”

“Good, on to step two.”

And she releases my feet.

I cling to the fence, my desperate legs kicking out for a foothold.

“See the tree over your head? Climb up the fence and grab onto the big branch there with the pretty red leaves on it.”

“Are you out of your
mind
?”

“I’m a woman scorned, is what I am.”

I brave a look back, my neck constricting painfully, and see Maxine leaning against the fence, comfortable as you please.

“You’re gonna have to help me, or else all we’re going to accomplish today is me hanging here.” The wooden slats cut into my arms.

She pushes off the fence and sighs. “Very well. What do you need me to do?”

“Walk over my direction. No, come closer . . . closer. Perfect.”

Maxine stands next to my dangling feet.

“
Oomph!
”

I step on her, adjusting my footing until I have my balance.

“That’s my nose, you impertinent little cream puff!”

“Oh, sorry. I was aiming for your shoulder.” But a nose will do. I stretch as far as I can overhead, my eyes on the ground below me. “Nice pool she’s got here.”

“Humph.”

My hands latch onto a thick branch, and thanks to Coach Nelson and her punishing chin-ups, I’m able to pull my body up enough to hook a leg over the branch and climb on.

“Brilliant work. I couldn’t have done a better job myself.”

Oh, the nerve!

“Now what? I don’t see anything.” Nothing except the large pool, which hasn’t been covered up for the fall. Beautiful landscaping skirts the outer area, and brightly colored lounge chairs are arranged sporadically near umbrellas.

“Nothing? Are you sure?”

I look past the pool and try to see into the house. On the left seems to be a bedroom. Nothing in there. In the center looks to be the kitchen. Nope, I don’t see any questionable activity. And the next window over to my right is . . .

“Oh, no.”

“What? What? Tell me what you see!”

I see Sam. At least I think it’s Sam. And his arms are around someone. “Maxine, it’s nothing. Time to go, okay? I have homework tonight.”

Maxine stomps her foot, throws her hand up to the sky, and points a finger at me. “I am
not
turning back now.”

“Well, I can’t see too well in there. I mean, it could be Sam. I don’t know.” I want to go home. Or anywhere but here. In a tree. Twenty feet above some stranger’s yard.

Maxine cups her hands around her mouth. “You have to climb out onto the branch. You’ll be able to get a better look.”

I don’t
want
a better look!

“Do it!”

I place my hands farther down the thick branch, fairly confident it can hold me. Like an inch worm, I scoot, stopping at the point where it begins to narrow.

“See anything?”

My neck stretches, and I strain to focus on the dining room. I glance down at Maxine, who is frozen in her spot, her eyes riveted on me. I gulp. This isn’t going to be pretty. “He’s in there.”

She nods. “And he’s with Trudy Marple.” Her eyes are fire, and I suddenly fear for Sam’s life.

“Um . . . no.”

“No? Tell me what you see.”

“He’s dancing . . .”

“Yes?”

“With a guy.”

Maxine scratches her chin. “I did not see that coming.”

I patiently wait in the tree, letting my foster grandmother process the information.

“I need more information, Agent Sixteen. Gimme concrete details.”

I eye the tree limb. “Maxine—”

“You’re a lightweight. Get on out there and take a closer look.”

I close my eyes. “For the record, I was forced into this. If we get taken downtown, I will sing like a canar—”

Crack!

My head jerks toward the noise.

“Thirty more seconds, Katie, that’s all I ask. I can’t believe I forgot my camera.”

Snap! Crack!

“Um, Maxine . . .”

“And to think that I trusted him! I shared my Burger Barn Value Meals with him! Well, never the fries of course . . .”

Pop, pop, pop!

“Maxi-i-i-i-i-i-i-ne!”

My world spins on its axis as the branch and I spiral out of control. I plunge down, my body upside down and sideways. My horizontal becomes vertical, and I am aware only of my own screaming. Branches slap me in the face, limbs reach out and poke at my skin. My life flashes before my—

Splash!

My body crashes into the pool, and my skin spasms and stings at the frigid contact.

I will my wooden limbs to cooperate, and I slowly ascend through the water, paddling through leaves and dead bugs.

I break through, my head shooting above the water. Coughing and sputtering, I gasp for breath.

“What is going on?”

“Sam, call the police!”

I weakly dog paddle to the side and grab onto the edge. My throat and nose burn and—did someone say police?

“No . . . no p-p-police. S’me, Sam.” I choke on water. And a bug carcass. “It’s me—K-K-Katie.”

Through blurred eyes, I see Sam rushing toward me, and a teenage boy following close behind. Holding the door open is a gray-haired woman in a purple housedress, who I can only assume is Trudy Marple.

My arms hang lifeless on the concrete edge of the pool. I jerk with the shivers. So. Cold.

“Katie? Is that you?”

I reach a hand up to Sam and the boy next to him, whose mouth is wide open in disbelief. The two guys pull me up, and the cool fall air hitting my wet clothing makes me gasp in pain.

“Are you all right?” Sam’s face is full of urgent concern.

“What’s a girl doing in my pool? Who is she? Where is neighborhood watch when you need them?” The gray-haired woman remains in the doorway, obviously not convinced I’m harmless. I can’t imagine why.

Sam picks a few leaves from my hair and draws me close to him, guiding me to the door. “Move out of the way, Trudy. Everything’s okay. Just gonna get this girl warmed up.”

As soon as I can move my fingers again, I am going to kill Maxine.

I shiver into Sam’s side, desperate for some warmth. A smart girl would probably cozy up to the boy behind us, but I’m too frozen to appreciate the opportunity.

“Okay, here we go. Step into the house. Easy does it.”

Sam’s gentle voice soothes me, and I can see why Maxine is fond of the guy. Not that he’s worth free-falling out of a giant oak tree for, but I like him.

We ease into the kitchen, and Sam helps me settle into a chair.

“Trudy, grab some blankets, woman. What is wrong with you?”

Trudy remains near the back door, motionless, as the boy, a sophomore I now recognize from school, jumps to do Sam’s bidding.

“Are you hurt anywhere?”

I shake my head no, and Sam holds my chin, moving my head to look for wounds. Or signs of brain activity.

“Here you go, Sam.”

“Thanks, Charlie.”

Sam grabs a blanket and some towels from my In Between classmate and turbans my head in a fluffy pink towel.

“I’m fine. Really.” I take the blanket from him and cocoon myself in its fuzzy warmth.

“Trudy, get this girl some cocoa.”

Without taking her eyes off of me, Trudy snaps her fingers, points at the cabinets, and once again, Charlie jumps into action. She crosses her arms over her chest and continues her long-distance watch.

“Are you sure you’re not hurt anywhere?” Sam looks doubtful.

“No. I’m just. . .” Embarrassed, mad, freezing, and tired. “I’m just cold.”