Chapter 32

  Mom said no to my idea so fast my head almost spun around. “You’re not sleeping outside on a school night. Besides, it’s dangerous with all the stuff going on.”

  I let it drop, then went to Sam. This guy had lived a dangerous life and had admitted to us that in the army he had been trained to kill people. If anybody could talk Mom into letting us investigate another mystery, it was Sam.

  “I agree with your mother,” Sam said. “But wait until the weekend, and I’ll put the camper on the back of my truck. You’ll be safer there.”

  Thursday morning I took a can of red spray paint and a piece of paper out to our mailbox and created my own masterpiece.

  “Looks like a target,” Ashley said.

  “You got it,” I said.

  Chapter 33

  We got out of fourth period early for lunch because our teacher had a meeting, and the cafeteria was nearly empty. It was the perfect chance to talk with Mrs. Garcia.

  I sat with my brown bag and watched as she spoke with the cooks. She finally came to the cash register when a wave of students washed through. I got in line.

  “How’s Ashley today?” she said.

  “You want the truth or just the smile?”

  She looked at me over her glasses. “The truth.”

  I sighed. “The truth is, I’m on some new medicine for this seizure thing I have, and it’s hard to get used to. It kind of scares me.”

  “Seizures?”

  I explained and she listened closely.

  “I had no idea,” she said.

  “It’s a bummer, but the doctor says I can still grow out of it.”

  She asked about the medicine and whether it hurts my stomach. I also told her about the EEGs and that Bryce and I stay up late before my appointments.

  The bell rang and the stampede headed our way. I leaned close and whispered, “I found out about your daughter. I’m really sorry.”

  The blood drained from her face. “How?”

  “Newspapers. I didn’t mean to snoop.”

  Her eyes darted around the room as other kids made their way through the food line. She looked like a scared child.

  “If you ever want to talk about it—”

  She stopped me with one look, and at first I thought I had gone too far. But she said, “After school. Can you stay?”

  Chapter 34

  I found Randy’s brother, Derek, and bragged about the target on our mailbox. I hoped he would tell Randy. All the clues pointed to him, but I couldn’t limit my investigation to just one suspect, especially when I wasn’t sure. I decided to approach the meanest group at school, led by none other than Boo Heckler.

  Ashley and I had a run-in with Boo, who had threatened us if we didn’t let him ride our ATVs. I had stood up to him, which felt good, and Boo hadn’t bothered us since.

  He sat with a few friends in the shade behind the school. They’re all tobacco challenged. By the time kids get to be our age, everybody knows the dangers of smoking, but I guess Boo and his gang don’t care. They smell like ashtrays. It’s hard to even breathe around them.

  Boo looked up like I was holding a fire extinguisher, threatening to put out their smokes. “What do you want, Timberline?”

  “Got something funny for you. With all the mailbox bashing, we’ve painted a target on ours.”

  Boo paused, took a puff, and looked at his friends. “I’m holding my sides.”

  Everybody laughed.

  Then I told as many people as I could who might have friends or relatives who could be the vandals.

  And I hoped they wouldn’t come back until Friday night.

  Chapter 35

  When the final bell rang I raced to the lunchroom and found Mrs. Garcia sitting on one of the tall kitchen stools by the garbage bins out back. Her back was to me, and I could tell she was crying by the way her shoulders shook. She turned when I put my backpack down. Her eyes were red and her face splotchy. You don’t think of grown-ups crying like little kids, but Mrs. Garcia looked like she was about four years old.

  She wiped her face and blew her nose. “Tell me what you found out about Danielle.”

  I told her what I’d read in the newspaper and she said, “You’d better sit down.”

  I sat on my backpack in the smelly air around the garbage bins. You don’t find a lot of flies in our part of Colorado, but it looked like they were having a convention behind the school.

  Mrs. Garcia watched a bus winding its way from the school into Red Rock. “She would have been seven now, finishing second grade.”

  “How did it happen?” I said.

  “Danielle was only a few weeks old when John, my husband, shipped out with the army from Fort Carson. I didn’t want to leave Danielle, but we needed the money. I worked nights when it was easier to get a sitter.

  “A young woman in the neighborhood—a teacher named Tonya Zoloff—was pregnant and offered to watch Danielle for free. Said it would be good training.”

  Mrs. Garcia wiped her eyes again. “While I was walking home from work at about 10 that night, I heard the sirens and saw the lights. When I saw smoke coming from our building, I could hardly breathe. Firemen were shooting water into our apartment.

  “I raced upstairs, and one of the neighbors said, ‘There she is.’ Tonya was wrapped in a blanket, an oxygen mask over her face. I lifted the blanket, looking for Danielle, but she wasn’t there. That’s when I started screaming.

  “I passed out and came to in the hospital. I found out the babysitter had fallen asleep on the couch after putting Danielle to bed. When she woke up, she smelled smoke and ran to Danielle’s room. When Tonya opened the door, she said it was like the whole room exploded. She was able to dial 911 from the kitchen and then ran outside.”

  “She never got to Danielle?”

  Mrs. Garcia shook her head and looked up, as if she could still see the scene. “I’ll never forget finally going home and seeing her room. I’d found a border with animals and Noah’s ark. It was so bright and cheery. But now her little crib was as black as coal, the walls torn up, plaster hanging, water damage everywhere. We had the funeral with no body.”

  “No body? How could that be?”

  “The firefighters said Danielle must have been consumed. And because she was a newborn, there wasn’t even any bone tissue left.”

  The whole thing creeped me out. I couldn’t believe they couldn’t find any trace of the baby, but if the firefighters said it was true . . . “How did the fire start?” I said.

  “They said the electrical connection to the baby monitor was frayed and had probably sparked.”

  “I’ll bet the babysitter felt awful.”

  Mrs. Garcia nodded. “She moved away a few days later, and I haven’t seen her since. I think she just felt too bad. A month later my husband was killed in a roadside bombing. I was all alone.”

  Mrs. Garcia leaned forward. “Ashley, I don’t think my baby died that night.”

  Chapter 36

  All the mailboxes on our road had been fixed except one—and those people were on vacation. I hoped the news about my target mailbox had made the rounds.

  When I got home, Randy’s truck was in the driveway. I saw a huge plastic bag in the backseat. It had red, white, and blue wrappers inside.

  “What’re you looking at?” Leigh said as she and Randy walked up.

  I just about dropped my backpack. “Oh! Uh . . . n-nothing. I m-mean, what’s in the bag?”

  “My dad got me some fireworks,” Randy said. “Firecrackers and stuff.”

  “Cool,” I said. “Got any cherry bombs?”

  “Yeah.”

  “How about sparklers?”

  “Sure.”

  Chapter 37

  Mrs. Garcia held out a picture. “This is my Danielle.”

  “She’s beautiful,” I said.

  “Every time I see a bus go by or those milk cartons with missing children’s faces on them, I think about my baby. I’ve been working at different schools the past few years, hoping, praying . . .”

  “You’ve been looking for her?”

  She nodded and stared at the ground.

  “Why do you think she’s still alive?”

  “The window was open,” Mrs. Garcia said. “The firemen said it was like that when they arrived. I never got to ask Tonya, but it was cold that evening and I’m sure she wouldn’t have opened it. I think someone took my baby and set the fire to make it look like she had been killed.”

  I went straight to my room when I got home, lit my candle, and opened my diary. I wrote everything I could remember about what Mrs. Garcia told me, including the babysitter’s full name—I guessed at the spelling. Before dinner, I ran a search on the Internet but turned up nothing for Tonya Zoloff.

  I knew it had to be hard for Mrs. Garcia to admit her baby was dead, but if there was a chance she could be alive, I had to help her.

  Chapter 38

  Everybody was excited at dinner because Leigh was taking her driver’s test the next day. She was going out later to finish her night hours with Sam. To get your license you have to do a lot of driving with your parents in the car, I guess.

  That night, I kept peeking out the window from the second-floor hallway, watching our mailbox through the pine trees in front of the house. I wished Mom and Sam would let me spend the night camping out, but this was the next best thing to being there.

  Ashley hadn’t said much at dinner, and I could tell something was bothering her. The past few days she had acted weird. I wondered if it was her medicine.

  I woke up propped against the window, with Pippin and Frodo barking. It was as dark as a Hershey’s bar outside. Two headlights stared at me from the end of our driveway. I grabbed Sam’s night-vision scope.

  It was a car with something written on the side. A police car. As it pulled away, the two cops were talking, pointing at my target, and smiling.

  Chapter 39

  In art class the next day, our teacher, Mr. Cheplosa, turned on a new computer program. We had been learning about drawing faces. “With this I can actually scan your picture and show you what you might look like in 10 or 20 or even 50 years.”

  The class giggled, and Skeeter hurried up front with one of our yearbooks. “Mr. Cheplosa, why don’t you scan Ashley?”

  “Great,” Mr. Cheplosa said.

  Before I could protest, kids around me laughed and clapped, saying, “Yeah, Ashley!”

  He scanned in the photo and brought up my picture. I could feel my face turn red as my face seemed to fill the screen. Split ends. Ugh. And I thought of all the things I wanted to do to Skeeter after school, like run over him with my ATV or rip his dumb birthday/get well card into a billion pieces.

  “Now,” Mr. Cheplosa said, “here’s what she’ll look like in 10 years.”

  The second picture was of Mickey Mouse, and the rest of the class acted like it was the funniest thing in the world.

  Mr. Cheplosa put my real picture back on the screen and blew my face up really big.

  “It’s the monster that ate Red Rock!” somebody said.

  Skeeter gazed at the screen and smiled. I imagined him with a big tire print on his forehead. It wasn’t what Jesus would have thought, but I couldn’t help it.

  “Okay, quiet down,” Mr. Cheplosa said, focusing on the computer. “Now this is what Ashley might look like in high school.”

  My face morphed. My hair was straight, a little shorter, and white teeth gleamed. A little makeup would have helped, but I actually looked pretty.

  “Extreme makeover!” a guy hollered.

  “And here’s college,” Mr. Cheplosa said.

  My face was thinner, and my eyes had a few lines. It was exciting to see but kind of scary too.

  “And here’s what she’ll look like on her 75th birthday.” Mr. Cheplosa glanced at me. “You ready for this?”

  An old woman with gray hair and wrinkled skin filled the screen, but I could tell it was me.

  The bell rang and I was glad. Then I got an idea. A great idea.

  Chapter 40

  While I ate, Ashley went up to the Lunch Lady and talked for a long time.

  Duncan sat beside me and nodded toward them. “What’s that all about?”

  I shrugged.

  On the way to our next classes Ashley clutched a small picture and had a look in her eye like she had just aced a test or performed the perfect dance routine.

  The picture was of a baby with a bow in her hair. By the time we got to the art room, Ashley had told me all about it, and I was as excited as she was at what we might find out.

  Chapter 41

  Mr. Cheplosa was in his darkroom. I couldn’t imagine why anyone would want to develop photos when you can do it digitally, but Mr. Cheplosa says photography is an art and he likes the old-fashioned way.

  I handed him the photo. “Can you make her a few years older, like, say, seven?”

  He winced. “Do you have anything larger that doesn’t have these creases?”

  I shook my head. “Can we try it?”

  He placed the photo on the scanner. “This works best with bigger photos and older subjects, so no guarantees. What’s this for?”

  I looked at Bryce. “This baby died in a fire. I just wanted to show her mom what she might look like now.”

  Mr. Cheplosa stopped. “Are you sure? Won’t this upset the mother?”

  I shook my head again. “It was a long time ago.”

  Mr. Cheplosa clicked the mouse and the computer whirred. An error message came up and my heart sank. He frowned. “It’s not reading the photo. You sure your friend doesn’t have a better one?”

  “Let me check.”

  I ran to the lunchroom, with only five minutes before my next class. One of the cooks said Mrs. Garcia was on her break. “Try the teachers’ lounge.”

  Great. The other end of school.

  I hurried there and knocked on the door.

  One of the science teachers stuck his head out and scowled like I had interrupted some big experiment.

  “Is Mrs. Garcia in there?”

  He looked at the name on the door. “If I’m not mistaken, this is the teachers’ lounge. Is she a teacher?”

  “No, but someone said—”

  “Then I suggest you look elsewhere.”

  “But this is really important—”

  I looked past him as he shut the door, then scanned the hallway. “Mrs. Garcia?” I called. Kids milled around, opening and closing lockers. They stared at me, and I jumped as the bell rang.

  Chapter 42

  The art room started to fill, and when Ashley didn’t return, I headed to my next period.

  In the middle of class I looked out the window and saw Mrs. Garcia walking toward the front of the building. I raised my hand and asked if I could go to the restroom. I did have to go, by the way.

  I got a pass and headed down the hall. I didn’t see Mrs. Garcia anywhere, and as I neared the office, Mr. Forster stepped out.

  “Looking for someone, Mr. Timberline?” the principal said.

  I showed him my bathroom pass, and he pointed back the way I had come. When I reached the bathroom door I looked back. Mr. Forster smiled and waved like royalty.

  When I came out he was gone, so I checked the hallway again. Mrs. Garcia was at the other end. I tried to call her, but she made it around the corner before I could get her attention.

  I had to make a quick decision, because if my teacher found out I was running the halls I’d be in trouble. I figured if we helped Mrs. Garcia it would be okay.

  I didn’t catch her until she was past the gym. “Do you have another picture of your daughter?” I said, trying to catch my breath. “Anything bigger?”

  “At home,” she said.

  “Could you get it before school is over?”

  She looked at her watch. “I suppose, if you think it would help.”

  Chapter 43

  Just before the final bell rang at the end of the day, Mrs. Garcia gave our teacher an envelope. The teacher handed it to me as everyone left the room.

  I couldn’t wait to look at it, but I had to. Bryce and I pushed through the crowds in the hall.

  Skeeter came up beside me. “Hope you didn’t mind that I suggested your picture in art.”

  I gritted my teeth and just stared ahead. The whole thing had given me a good idea, but I didn’t want to tell Skeeter.

  “She’ll get over it,” Bryce said.

  When we finally made it to the art room, I found a substitute wiping off the blackboard and gathering drawings. “Where’s Mr. Cheplosa?

  “Doctor’s appointment. Back Monday.”

  Monday. How can I wait until Monday?

  Chapter 44

  Ashley was really upset about missing Mr. Cheplosa, so I tried to take her mind off it by asking her to tell me everything she knew about the case. It was strange that no one believed the baby was still alive except the mom.

  Ashley helped me carry my stuff to Sam’s truck for my campout and asked if I wanted company. “I can sleep tomorrow,” she said.

  I was glad, because as much as I wanted to be out spying, I didn’t really want to be alone.

  Sam pulled into the driveway with Leigh, and it looked like they had both been to a funeral. He had hardly stopped when Leigh jumped out and raced inside.

  “Did she pass her driving test?” I called out.

  Sam frowned and shook his head. “She was doing fine until a dog ran in front of her.”

  “Oh no,” Ashley said.

  “Missed the dog but hit the curb. Flat tire. Instructor had to get out and change it. It wasn’t a pleasant drive home, if you know what I mean.”

  “At least she didn’t run over the dog,” Ashley said.

  Sam sighed. “Yeah, but somebody else did a few minutes later. Leigh saw the whole thing.”