“Ash, I don’t want to dampen your enthusiasm, but don’t get your hopes up, okay? Sometimes people . . . well, sometimes they have a hard time letting go of things.”

  “You think Mrs. Garcia is crazy?”

  She shook her head. “I’m not saying that. But she’s a mom. And for her to involve you . . .”

  “Mom, it was my idea. I went to her.”

  She nodded. “Go ahead and help as much as you can, Ashley, but don’t be surprised if this goes nowhere.”

  Chapter 56

  Mr. Cheplosa wasn’t in his room when we got to school Monday morning, so Ashley and I went to our lockers, put our lunches away, then returned. His door was still locked.

  Ashley told me what Mom had said, and it didn’t surprise me. I’d had the same feelings but didn’t want to tell her.

  A few minutes before the first bell Mr. Cheplosa ran up with an armful of papers and books, fumbling for his keys while kids milled around in the hall.

  Inside, Ashley pulled the photo from a big envelope.

  “That will work fine,” he said. “I’ve got to start class right now, but I’ll have this done by lunch.”

  Chapter 57

  I hurried to Mr. Cheplosa’s room just before my lunch period and found the door locked. An envelope with my name on it was taped to it. A folded sticky note read:

  Ashley,

  Had to leave but here’s the original and three aged photos of what she might look like at 5, 7, and 10.

  I forced myself not to peek, wanting to look at the pictures at the same time Mrs. Garcia saw them. I raced to the lunchroom and found her busy with a bunch of kids. Bryce joined me—begging to see the finished products (I refused)—and we ate, watching for our chance.

  Mrs. Garcia finally waved us over when there was a break in the line. I opened the envelope and slid the photos out as we approached. She took her plastic gloves off and wiped sweat from her forehead.

  Mrs. Garcia put a hand over her mouth as we huddled, peering at the pictures. “She’s beautiful,” she whispered. “How did you do this?”

  We told her. Then more kids showed up, and we had to move out of the way. “I’ll make copies of these for you,” I said.

  When I got home, I showed the pictures to Mom and asked if we could go to the copy shop in town.

  “Did you forget your tutoring? You’re supposed to be in Memorial today.”

  Chapter 58

  I had painted the targets on the new mailbox, and it looked great. After school I found a package inside with Sam’s name on it. He had told me to be watching for it, and I opened the box like a hungry hyena. It was a surveillance camera you can hook up to any TV set. I strung the cable, just enough to reach near the mailbox, and set the camera in a bush. I plugged the other end to a black-and-white TV we keep in an upstairs closet. The picture was clear.

  Next I found an old videotape and set the VCR to record at low speed. I turned it on and ran to the mailbox, walking up and down the road to check the camera angle. I’m glad nobody came by because I must have looked goofy.

  Back inside, I rewound the tape and laughed out loud as I moved across the screen. I needed to mount the camera higher so it would show the license plate of any vehicle coming by, so I made a platform out of some old wood and fastened it to a pine tree.

  No more sleeping outside to watch for cars. I was going to have hard evidence the next time those goons drove through.

  Chapter 59

  The sky had turned gray and the temperature dropped. A fog you normally see in old horror movies covered the area. It mirrored how I felt when Mom told me how much color copies of photos were likely to cost. Ouch.

  Angelique met me at her school, her brown eyes wide. We went to the library and played a few games. I’ll admit my mind was on other things.

  Then she showed me a math homework assignment that had more red lines on it than an American flag. I went back through the paper, writing each problem again and showing her how to do it. I made up several more and turned her loose. She tried hard, but she got the wrong answer every time. I showed her again, but she didn’t understand.

  I saw we had gone over our time, so I stuffed my notebook in my backpack. Before I could zip it, Angelique said, “What’s in that envelope?”

  “Just some pictures. I have to go now—you work on these problems and we’ll meet again next week.”

  “Pictures of what?”

  “A little girl. Well, it was nice—”

  “Can I see?”

  It was becoming clear that math wasn’t the only thing she didn’t understand. I saw Mom’s car, windshield wipers clicking back and forth impatiently. She hates waiting, especially if Dylan’s in the car. “My mom’s waiting,” I said, but I knew I wasn’t going to get out of here without letting her see the pictures.

  She took one look at the seven-year-old version and said, “Why do you have a picture of Maria?”

  “Maria?” I said, my heart fluttering. “You know her?”

  “She goes to our school.”

  I sat down. “Are you sure?”

  “It looks like her. She’s Mrs. Z’s daughter.”

  “Mrs. Z?”

  “One of the kindergarten teachers,” Angelique said.

  “How long has she been here?”

  She shrugged.

  “Can you show me her room?”

  Angelique took me by the hand and walked down a hall lined with essays and painted pictures.

  She stopped at an open door that led to a darkened room. Beanbag chairs were stacked against the walls, and little chairs sat around a table. At the back of the room was a desk with a date book on top and a nameplate with Mrs. Z written on it.

  “That’s Maria and her mom,” Angelique said, pointing to a picture.

  I gasped. The little girl, cheek to cheek with her mother and smiling, looked just like the seven-year-old version of Danielle Garcia.

  Chapter 60

  Ashley flew out of the car and rushed into the house. “In my room. Now.”

  She spilled her story and showed me a black-and-white photocopy of the picture of the teacher and her daughter.

  “The office was open so I borrowed the photocopier. This has to be Mrs. Zoloff—don’t you think?”

  “You should have asked somebody at the school. Well, Mrs. Garcia should know from the picture if she can make it out.”

  “I can’t get her hopes up by letting her see the little girl too,” Ashley said. She cut the girl out of the picture and gave me the other half. “I’ll be at the doctor tomorrow. Just ask Mrs. Garcia if this is Mrs. Zoloff.”

  “You want me to talk to the Lunch Lady?”

  “She won’t bite.”

  Chapter 61

  I stayed up late writing in my diary and reading. Then Mom and I went downstairs to watch TV so I’d be good and tired for my appointment the next morning. She found an old love story with actors I’d never heard of, and she cried at the end, but all I could think about was the next day.

  Mom turned off the TV and sat next to me, drawing a blanket over both of us. “Whatcha thinking?”

  “About Mrs. Garcia. I can’t believe she’s only a few miles from her daughter.”

  “You don’t know that this is her daughter or that Mrs. Z is even the right person,” Mom said. “Mrs. Garcia said her babysitter was pregnant at the time. This could be Mrs. Z’s real daughter.”

  “It has to be her.”

  She raised her eyebrows. “When I write a story, I think I know where I’m going to end up. But sometimes things don’t turn out the way I plan. Characters take on lives of their own and go their own ways.”

  “This is not a book.”

  “It’s even more important in real life to let things happen.” She paused. “Like with your EEG.”

  “Mom, I’m scared.”

  She hugged me tight. We didn’t say anything for a long time.

  “I used to rock you to sleep when you were just a few months old,” she finally whispered. “Your brother would sleep like a stone, but you had a hard time.”

  “Because of my seizures?”

  “Could have been. We don’t really know when they started. You’d go to sleep in my arms, and I’d put you in your crib. Then you’d wake up, and your dad would take over.”

  “I miss him,” I said without looking at her.

  She sighed. “So do I.”

  I shot her a double take. “But you have Sam.”

  “No one ever takes another’s place. Life’s kind of like a puzzle that way. When you lose someone, it’s like removing a piece from your life’s puzzle. That hole will always be there. But as time goes on, you add more pieces around that person, so when you stand back you can still see what the puzzle is about. The big picture. The hole is still there. It just gets smaller.”

  “The hole still feels big to me.”

  “Yeah,” she said, kissing my head. “He’d be really proud of the way you care for your new family, and how you care enough about others to help try to solve their mysteries.”

  Chapter 62

  My surveillance video was still recording the next morning, but rather than watch the whole thing, I looked out and saw the mailbox still in one piece.

  I wanted to get my conversation with Mrs. Garcia over with as soon as possible, but I couldn’t find her before school.

  At lunch, Jeff Alexander sat beside me. Jeff’s been battling cancer and wears hats to hide his bald head. He was wearing the Rockies cap I had given him, which made me smile.

  “I heard about your sister,” Jeff said. “Bet she’s scared.”

  “She’s thinking about it all the time.”

  “Would it help if I talked to her?”

  “She’d like that.”

  He promised to call later or just come over. I waited until Mrs. Garcia wasn’t busy and handed her the photocopied picture of Mrs. Z.

  “Recognize her?” I said.

  “It’s fuzzy,” Mrs. Garcia said, squinting. “Who’s it supposed to be?”

  “You tell me.”

  Mrs. Garcia cocked her head. “Looks familiar. Her hair is different and her face is not clear, but it could be Tonya. I can’t be sure. Where did this come from?”

  Ashley had asked me not to tell. “I-I c-can’t say,” I said. “Ashley will talk with you tomorrow.”

  She stared at me.

  I always figure an adult who stares at a kid without saying anything wants something. I just stared back.

  Chapter 63

  The nurse hooked me up to the EEG machine and smiled. “Didn’t I just see you?”

  “My encore,” I said.

  It felt like only a few seconds passed before she woke me up, telling me the doctor would call us with the results.

  I wanted to get to school and talk with Mrs. Garcia, but Mom made me go to bed. My investigation would have to wait. But as I crawled into bed I got an idea. I went to the computer, looked up a phone number, and dialed it.

  “Memorial Elementary,” the receptionist said.

  “Yes, I’m calling about one of your kindergarten teachers. It’s Mrs. Zzz . . . uh . . . how do you pronounce it?”

  “Zulauf?”

  It was close. “Yes, how do you spell that?”

  “Z-u-l-a-u-f.”

  No wonder I couldn’t find it. “How long has she been teaching there?”

  “I think it’s been two years. Are you a parent?”

  “No, it’s personal. I—”

  “We can’t give out teacher information. Good-bye.”

  Chapter 64

  After school I could hardly stand waiting for Ashley to wake up before I could tell her what Mrs. Garcia had said. While I waited, Leigh and Sam came through the living room, and she looked nervous.

  Sam put a hand on my shoulder and whispered, “Gonna give it another try.”

  He was talking about the driver’s test. There’s nothing worse than trying to do something when you’re really nervous. Especially when you ran into a curb the first time, and a dog almost went paws up.

  Sam stopped at the front door and looked at Mom. “Did the doctor call yet?”

  She shook her head and something happened between them—like each knew what the other was thinking.

  Mom finally woke Ashley for dinner, and I broke the news about Mrs. Garcia.

  Ashley put her head in her hands. “I feel like I’m chasing rabbits. I thought for sure she’d recognize her.”

  “It was kind of fuzzy,” I said.

  “Mom, when’s my next tutoring day?”

  “Next week. Why?”

  “I’d like to go talk with Mrs. Z.”

  The phone rang and Mom answered. “Yes, Doctor,” she said. She moved from the dinner table into the kitchen.

  Ashley gritted her teeth so hard they squeaked.

  Finally, Mom came back and sat down. She daintily pushed her peas around her plate and didn’t look at us.

  “What?!” Ashley yelled.

  “What what?” Mom said.

  “What did he say?” I said, just as annoyed as my sister.

  “He hasn’t had time to look at the results. He’s been at the hospital all day. Said he’d call first thing in the morning.”

  “Great,” Ashley said. “More rabbits.”

  Chapter 65

  Mom paced the living room. She pulled back the curtain and looked out the front window.

  “Just call them,” I said.

  “No, that wouldn’t be good.”

  “What’s the worst that could happen?” I said. Mom asks me that when I’m worried. Most of the time the worst thing that could happen isn’t that bad, but parroting that back to her made her scowl like a judge on one of those reality TV shows.

  “Maybe she hit an elephant this time,” I said.

  “Not funny, Ashley.”

  “An aardvark?” I said. “That would be funny, wouldn’t it?”

  That made her smile. “Not for the aardvark,” she said.

  The phone rang and we raced for it. I grabbed it first. It was Derek for Bryce.

  Chapter 66

  “Want to go to another ball game this weekend?” Derek said. “My brother’s in a tournament Saturday.”

  “If it’s okay with Leigh,” I said. “She’s taking her driving test now.”

  “Randy’s gone too,” Derek said. “Practice, I think. He told Mom and Dad he wouldn’t be back until late.”

  “Really?”

  “Can’t wait until high school when I can stay out as late as I want even on a school night.”

  When I got off the phone I rewound my surveillance tape and pressed Record.

  A car pulled into the driveway, and Mom rushed to the door. It was Jeff Alexander and his mom.

  Chapter 67

  Jeff’s mom talked with Mom in the kitchen while Jeff sat on the couch and pushed a Cubs cap back on his head. If it had been anybody else, I would have hated “being talked to,” but I knew what Jeff had been through and that he was just trying to help.

  “The hardest part of being sick is not knowing,” Jeff said. “I felt bad for a long time before the doctor finally found the tumor.”

  “But doesn’t your treatment hurt?”

  “Yeah, it’s a bummer to lose your hair and feel like you want to throw up all the time. But at least I know what I’m fighting. From what Bryce said, your doctor doesn’t really know what to do.”

  “Right. But God’s in control.”

  Jeff smiled. “But that doesn’t mean everything’s okay.” He leaned forward. “A lot of people say that to me, and I could just scream. God has been with me through this whole thing, but I don’t know how much longer I have. It may be a few years, a few months, or I could totally beat this. Do you know how that makes me feel every day?”

  “Scared.”

  “Bingo. God even uses the times I’m scared to bring me closer to him. Just being here now to talk with you proves that. He’s given me another chance to help somebody because of the stuff I’ve been through.”

  “So what would you do if you were me?”

  He shrugged. “Let yourself be scared. Tell God everything you’re feeling. Talk to other people too. That’s helped me a lot.”

  Jeff’s mom came back into the room and said they had to go. I hugged Jeff and thanked him.

  As soon as they pulled out, Frodo’s ears perked up and Pippin started growling. Mom was out of her chair and to the front door in a flash. It was neat that she cared so much for Leigh, but I have to admit that I was a little jealous.

  Leigh walked in all smiles, waving a white sheet of paper.

  “You didn’t hit anything?” I said, then regretted it.

  Leigh shrugged it off and asked Mom if she could take her to get her license tomorrow.

  “We can go right after school,” Mom said. “If we’re not back, you’ll be okay, won’t you, Ashley?”

  “Me and the other latchkey kid will be fine,” I said.

  “Thanks, Dad,” Leigh said. She hugged him and skipped up the stairs.

  Dylan came out of Bryce’s room, and Leigh picked him up and twirled him around. “I passed my driver’s test!” she shouted. “I have to call Randy!”

  “He’s not home,” Bryce said. “I talked with Derek a few minutes ago. Randy’s at softball practice and won’t be back until late.”

  Bryce glanced at me, and I knew we were both thinking the same thing.

  Chapter 68

  The next morning I hit the Rewind button on my surveillance tape and went downstairs to grab a bowl of cereal. When I got back, I turned on the monitor. The picture showed the camera was lying in the grass on its side. A tree blocked the view of the mailbox.

  I slammed my cereal bowl down. I wanted to scream, but Dylan was still asleep.

  I pushed the Play button and saw the whole video was shot from the grass. I ran outside and inspected the line running from the house to the camera. It looked as if someone had tripped over it, which would have yanked the camera to the ground. Dylan had been running outside the evening before. Maybe I couldn’t blame Randy for this.