by R. L. Stine
But I could see the hard lines on his face. And I could see the threatening scowl that tightened his features.
“L-let me go,” I stammered. “Who are you? What do you want? Why were you following me?”
“I think you know what I want,” he said. His breath smelled of cigarettes. I saw a bulge under his jacket. He must be carrying a gun.
That thought made a cold shudder run down my body.
He tightened his grip on my arm and brushed the hair off his forehead with a quick snap of his other hand.
“Get off me! Let me go!” I cried. “You’re making a mistake. You must have the wrong person. You—”
“You don’t want to play games with me, Emmy,” he said, speaking in a harsh rasp.
I hated the way he said my name.
And then his eyes were over my shoulder. He was gazing across the parking lot. And I heard a familiar voice. “Emmy? What’s up?”
Eddie trotted up to us. His backpack bounced on his back. He stopped, and I saw his eyes go wide. He recognized the man from my description. “You—” he started.
“You must be Eddie,” the man said. “You two are the names on the tree, right?”
I didn’t see any point in lying. “Right,” I said. My legs were trembling. I suddenly felt sick, about to vomit. He has a gun under his suit jacket. Does he plan to use it?
He stepped aside and pushed my car door shut. “It’s too crowded here,” he rasped. “Let’s take a walk in the park.” He motioned to Shadyside Park, the large wooded park that stretches behind the high school.
Eddie stuck his jaw out. “What if we don’t want to go?”
The man snickered. “You’re a tough guy? You want to be a tough guy with me? I don’t think so.” He patted the bulge under his suit jacket. Then he leaned menacingly toward Eddie, sticking his face up close to Eddie’s, challenging him.
Eddie lowered his eyes in surrender.
The man took each of us by an arm and guided us past the parking lot along the stadium fence into the park. I glimpsed my sister again. She was huddled with a group of her teammates.
Turn around, Sophie. Please turn around, I pleaded silently. See this guy leading us away? Get help. Go get help.
But she had her back to me. She didn’t turn around.
The park opens up with a wide lawn. Several paths curve into the trees. The man kept his tight grip on our arms and led us to a round wooden band shell. Concerts were given here a hundred years ago, I guess. I’ve never seen it used for anything except to provide cover when you’re caught in the park in the rain.
“Over here,” he ordered. We stopped behind the falling-down structure. I glanced back toward the school. No one could see us back here.
He let go of us and brushed his hair out of his eyes again. He had beads of sweat on his broad forehead. He pulled off the sunglasses and rubbed his fingers over the bridge of his nose. His eyes were cold and hard.
“What do you want?” I managed to choke out. I struggled not to shake.
“Let me ask the questions,” he said, sliding the shades back into place. “Do you have the money?”
Eddie and I exchanged glances. Was it worth trying to fake him out?
“We don’t know what you’re talking about,” Eddie said.
The man snickered, more of a cough than a laugh. “Yes, you do know,” he said quietly.
I wanted to confess, tell the truth. I didn’t care about the stolen money. We didn’t know how dangerous this guy was. I wanted to tell him where the money was so he’d let us go.
But Eddie seemed determined to play innocent. “I carved our initials on the tree months ago,” he told the guy.
“Months ago?” An unpleasant smile crossed the man’s face. “It looked fresh to me. I’m not an expert on tree carving, but…”
Eddie shrugged. “Why are you asking us about the tree? About money? We don’t know anything.”
The man shook his head, then spit on the ground, narrowly missing Eddie’s sneakers. He studied Eddie for a long, tense moment. “Know what?” he said finally. “It’ll go a lot easier on you two if you tell the truth.” He patted the gun bulge on the breast of his jacket again. “Know what I mean?”
I couldn’t take it anymore.
“Are you going to hurt us?” I blurted out. “Are you going to kill us?”
He turned to me. “I don’t want to hurt anyone. But I need to find the money.”
Eddie was telling me no with his eyes, but I was too frightened to hold out any longer. This man was dangerous, and he had us trapped. He wasn’t going to believe Eddie’s innocence act.
“We—we have the money,” I said.
Eddie muttered a curse.
“Where?” the man asked softly, his voice low and calm now. “Where is it?”
“We can take you there,” I told him. “Right, Eddie?”
Scowling, Eddie agreed.
“If we give it to you, will you let us go?” I asked. If only my legs would stop trembling. My head was throbbing now. I could feel the blood pulsing at my temples.
The man stared at me through the large, round shades. “Let’s go,” he said. “We’ll go in your car.” He kept behind us as we made our way back to the student parking lot. “Don’t try anything funny. Don’t try to signal anyone, hear?”
“You didn’t answer my question,” I said, my voice cracking. “Are you going to let us go?”
“Just take me to the money.”
33.
The drive to the pet cemetery was the longest ride of my life. Eddie drove. The man sat beside him. I hunched in the back, fighting to keep my lunch down, my arms crossed tightly in front of me.
“You found the money in the tree?” the man asked, eyes on the road in front of us.
“Yeah,” Eddie said. “We were camping overnight in the woods, and we found it.”
“So you took it and you did what with it?”
“We’ll show you,” Eddie said. “We buried it. In the pet cemetery in Martinsville. To keep it safe.”
The man snickered again. “Safe from who?”
“Just safe,” Eddie said. “Our friends … we didn’t want to take it and use it if … if it wasn’t safe.”
“But you planned to keep it? You planned to divvy it up and keep it?”
Eddie hesitated. “Yeah. We did.”
We were silent for the rest of the trip.
There were two cars in the cemetery parking lot. I recognized Mac’s Jeep at the far end where the tall iron fence ended. Eddie directed the man to the side entrance.
We climbed out of the car. Eddie slid his arm around my shoulders. “It’ll be okay,” he whispered.
“What makes you think so?” I muttered. I knew he was just trying to help get me through this. But I was too frightened to fool myself. This man could kill us once we gave him the money, and no one would see.
We led the way through the row of pet graves. I had to force my legs to move. My heart beat so hard, I was gasping for breath.
“Which way?” the man demanded. He couldn’t hide his impatience. He gazed around. “Weird place. Suckers actually pay money to have their pets buried? How do you know about this place?”
“I … work here after school,” Eddie answered. He turned suddenly on the man. “Listen, you have to promise us…” Eddie said. “If we give you the money, you have to promise us—”
The man erupted. “I don’t have to promise you anything, dude!” He gave Eddie a hard shove in the chest with both hands. “Get it?”
Startled, Eddie uttered a cry and stumbled back, into a tree. It took him a few seconds to catch his breath. “Okay. Okay,” he muttered.
“Take me to the money,” the man growled. “Where did you bury it?”
Eddie motioned with his head. “In a grave over there.”
“Dig it up. Hurry,” the man said. He turned to me. “Let’s get this over with.”
What did that mean? Did that mean he planned to kill us?
I struggled to breathe. I had a sudden impulse to scream, to cry for help. But I didn’t see anyone around. The graveyard was empty.
We walked in silence, our shoes scraping the dirt.
“Whoa.” Suddenly, Eddie stopped.
The man wheeled around, his body tensing. “What’s your problem?”
“I … have a shovel in Emmy’s trunk,” Eddie told him. “I’ll need it to dig up the briefcase.”
Eddie turned and started back toward the parking lot.
“No way!” the man shouted. “Do you think I’m stupid? You go back to the car and drive off to get help?”
“No,” Eddie raised his right hand as if taking a vow. “No. I have to get the shovel.”
“Okay. We’ll all go get the shovel,” the man said. He stepped up beside Eddie and walked with his big hand pressing down on Eddie’s shoulder.
I followed close behind, my mind whirring. I knew there was no shovel in my trunk. What was Eddie planning? Did he have some crazy idea?
A crazy idea that was going to get us both shot?
Our shoes crunched over the gravel parking lot. A shadow rolled over us as the lowering afternoon sun vanished behind trees.
Walking in silence, we approached the car. I uttered a startled gasp as Eddie dove past the trunk. He hurtled to the passenger door and heaved it open.
Before the big man could move, Eddie bent into the car and dropped open the glove compartment.
“Hey, wait—!” the man protested.
Eddie stood up and turned. He raised his arm and I saw the gun wrapped tightly in his fist.
The man shouted a curse and took a step back.
Eddie pointed the gun at the man’s broad chest. His hand was shaking, but his voice came out steady, almost calm. “I know how to use this,” Eddie said.
The man took another step back, unable to hide his surprise. He stood stiffly, both arms tensed at his sides.
Silence for a long moment. No one moved. Even the wind appeared to stop blowing, and the whisper of the trees hushed.
The man slowly pulled off his sunglasses and tucked them in his jacket pocket. His eyes were narrowed on the gun quavering in Eddie’s hand.
“What is that?” he asked Eddie, his voice just above a whisper. “A .38 snubnose?”
Eddie nodded.
The man stared at it for another long moment. Then he said, “Eddie, is that the gun you used when you held up the armored truck?”
34.
My mind spun with confusion. Why was the robber accusing Eddie?
Eddie tightened his grip on the revolver, keeping it aimed at the man’s chest. “Is that … supposed to be a joke? I didn’t rob any truck. You—”
“The security camera clearly showed a snubnose .38,” the man said.
Eddie’s mouth dropped open. “Security camera? I don’t get it.”
I suddenly felt dizzy, as if the ground was tilting up to me. I struggled to make sense of this. Any sense at all.
“Eddie, I’m not carrying a gun,” the man said. “I’m going to reach very slowly into my back pocket and pull out something I want to show you. Is that okay with you?” He was speaking slowly and carefully.
Eddie nodded. “Okay.”
The man did just what he had said. He reached his right hand back slowly and pulled something from his back pocket. At first, I thought it was a wallet. But then he flipped it open.
It had a silvery metal star on one side. Some kind of license beneath it.
“My name is Fairfax,” he said, holding the badge holder up so we could both see. “I’m with the Treasury Department. I’m the federal agent assigned to the armored truck robbery.”
Eddie and I stared at him. It took a long while for it to sink in. He wasn’t the holdup guy. He was a cop.
“We thought—” I started to talk, then stopped myself.
Fairfax’s dark eyes slid from me to Eddie. “Sorry I pulled the tough-guy act,” he said. “But I had a hunch if I came on strong and scared you enough, I could get something out of you.”
“Well, you scared us plenty,” I murmured.
Fairfax held out his hand. “Give me the gun, Eddie.”
Eddie hesitated for a moment, the gun still pointed at the agent’s chest. Then he lowered his arm and handed the revolver to Fairfax.
Fairfax rolled it in his hand, studying it. “Do you want to tell me about the gun, son? I wasn’t lying about the security footage we have. A gun just like this was used to hold up the armored truck.”
“Well … I didn’t rob any truck,” Eddie said. “I’m seventeen. Do you really think I leave school in the afternoon and go rob armored trucks?”
“We’ve seen younger,” Fairfax muttered. He turned to me. “Did you know you were carrying a concealed weapon in your car?”
“N-no,” I stammered. “No way.”
“I can explain it,” Eddie said, his eyes on me. “We had an overnight in the woods. The night we discovered the briefcase hidden in the tree. I brought the gun that night. I—”
“Why?” Fairfax interrupted.
“Just to show off, I guess. I shot a raccoon with it. It was stupid. I know.”
“And then you stashed the gun in Emmy’s glove compartment?” Fairfax asked.
“I put it in there and forgot about it,” Eddie replied. “There was so much going on. It was crazy. A crazy night. I … I meant to return it. But I totally forgot it was in there. Until just now.”
Fairfax’s eyes flashed. “Return it to who?”
Eddie hesitated. Of course he didn’t want to tell the agent it was Lou’s gun.
“Return it to who?” Fairfax repeated the question. He took a menacing step toward Eddie.
Eddie sighed in surrender. “It’s my stepfather’s gun. I borrowed it. I didn’t tell him. I meant to return it. I—”
“Who’s your stepfather?” Fairfax demanded.
“He’s going to kill me when he learns I borrowed his gun,” Eddie said, shaking his head.
“I’m getting tired of having to repeat every question,” Fairfax growled. “Who is your stepfather?”
“His name is Lou Kovacs. He’s a cop.”
Fairfax’s face twisted in surprise. “A cop?”
“With the Shadyside precinct,” Eddie said. “Only he’s suspended. He got in some trouble, and he’s waiting for a hearing.”
“I’d better pay him a visit,” Fairfax said.
“He’ll kill me,” Eddie repeated in a trembling voice. “He’ll just kill me.”
I wrapped a hand around Eddie’s arm. I wanted to help calm him, but I also needed someone to lean on. This was too frightening, too horrible.
Fairfax kept the revolver lowered at his side. “We’re not done here,” he said. “Did you forget? We have one more thing we have to do.”
35.
“Take me to the money,” Fairfax said, gesturing with the revolver. “That’s why we came here—right?”
“Okay. Okay,” Eddie said softly.
We both knew we had no choice. We had to do whatever the agent told us. Were we both in major trouble because of the gun in my car? I didn’t want to think about it. I just wanted to be home, safe, and away from this frightening, stern-faced man.
Fairfax and I followed Eddie into the cemetery, down a long row of gravestones. Eddie began to search around for a shovel.
But before he found one, we heard a shout. I saw Mac Stanton come running from the office, waving both hands. “Hey! Hey!”
His bald head gleamed under the afternoon sunlight. He was dressed in gray sweats. He ran barefoot across the grass. “Hey! What’s up?”
Mac was breathing hard by the time he reached us. “Eddie? What are you doing here? You don’t work today.”
Eddie hesitated. “I … well…”
Fairfax stepped in front of Eddie. He raised his badge to Mac’s sweaty face. “Federal Agent Fairfax,” he said.
Mac’s mouth dropped open. His eyes went wide as he stared at the ba
dge. He took a step back. “Wh-what do you want?” he stammered.
Mac looks terrified, I realized. Why is he so scared?
“Are you the owner of this place?” Fairfax asked.
Mac nodded. “Yes. If I’ve done something wrong, I think—”
Fairfax shook his head. “I’m in the middle of an investigation here. If you’d just stand over there.” He pointed to a row of graves across the dirt path.
“But if there’s a problem—” Mac started.
Fairfax narrowed his eyes at him. “Just step back, sir. Stand over there. We can talk about it in a few minutes.”
Mac saw that he had no choice. He squinted at Eddie, as if Eddie might give him a hint as to what was going down.
But Eddie had already found a shovel resting on a tall gravestone. He carried it to the edge of the grave and began to dig, tossing heaps of dirt to the side.
“Am I in trouble? Do I need a lawyer?” Mac called.
Fairfax eyed him suspiciously. “Do you?”
Mac didn’t reply. He wiped sweat off his forehead. “You come on my property without a warrant and—”
“Sir, I don’t believe this concerns you.” Fairfax spoke slowly, pronouncing each word. I could see he was trying to stay polite, but Mac was annoying him.
“Is this boy in trouble?” Mac demanded. “I can vouch for him.”
Fairfax narrowed his eyes at Mac. “Not now.”
Eddie groaned with each heave of the shovel. A tall pile of dirt stood at the side of the grave. I saw the brown leather briefcase handle before Eddie did. “There,” I said, pointing.
With another groan, Eddie tossed the shovel aside. He jumped into the grave, bent down, and tugged the briefcase up from the dirt.
“What is that? What is that doing there?” Mac cried. “Somebody better tell me what’s going on here.”
Fairfax ignored him. He moved quickly to take the briefcase from Eddie. Then he motioned for Eddie to step back.
Eddie moved beside me, wiping dirt off his hands on the legs of his jeans. “Are you okay?” I whispered.
He nodded, eyes on the briefcase.
“The money is in here?” Fairfax asked Eddie.