by Lisa Orchard
Sarah made it to the basement door before Klonsky had recovered his flashlight. She heard Jackie yelp and her gut twisted into a tight knot. The dirty cop had just captured her friend.
Clutching the perfume bottle, she pushed Lacey toward the stairs.
Sarah turned and saw Klonsky struggling with Jackie. She dashed toward them and sprayed Klonsky right in the face with the perfume. He yowled in pain. Dropping Jackie’s arm, he balled his hands into fists and rubbed his eyes, then stumbled back against the kitchen counter.
“Got him,” Jackie said in a low voice.
Sarah grabbed Jackie’s hand and raced down the basement stairs. She heard the satisfying bang as Jackie slammed the door behind her. Reaching the box stairs, Sarah was relieved when she found Lacey there. Scrambling to the top of the stairs, she pulled Lacey behind her. Her hands shook as she climbed. Throwing the perfume bottle to the side, she struggled out the window. Glancing back, she saw Lacey and Jackie right behind her.
Once outside, Sarah took several gulps of the cool night air as she stood trying to bring her shaking hands under control. She waited for her two companions to come through the tiny window.
Just as Lacey wiggled out of the casement, the back door burst open and Klonsky lurched into the night.
“Run!” Sarah shrieked.
Sarah pulled Jackie out of the window, and then grabbed Lacey’s hand. She took off sprinting through the Cat Lady’s back yard. The tall grass gripped her ankles as she ran, slowing her down. Jackie ran behind her, and Sarah heard her gasping for breath. Forging ahead, she saw the fence separating the Cat Lady’s yard and Mrs. Farnsworth’s. Turning toward it, she ran, hoping to scramble over it before the crooked cop caught them.
Sarah reached the fence and dropped Lacey’s hand. She placed her hands on the top horizontal board. Putting all of her weight on the board, she pulled her legs to one side. Up and over like a gymnast leaping over the pommel horse. Landing, she turned and helped Lacey over. Jackie imitated Sarah’s move and all three girls were over the fence.
Sarah spied Klonsky running toward them. She hoped he couldn’t see the fence. It was dark and the fence was a rotted gray color, too dark for someone to detect at night. Grabbing Lacey’s hand again, she ran through Mrs. Farnsworth’s yard. Jackie was right behind them.
Sarah stopped when she heard the splinter of wood and a sharp cry of pain. Looking back, she could just make out the image of Klonsky on the ground and D.W. hovering above him. Yes!
Turning, Sarah let go of Lacey’s hand and ran as fast as she could. She could hear Jackie and Lacey behind her, gasping for breath as their feet pounded the pavement. They sprinted blindly down the streets of Harrisburg. Sarah heard strangled shouts as they ran but she didn’t stop. Finally, the girls reached their tent and scrambled inside. All three teens collapsed on the floor and lay there with their chests heaving.
“I can’t believe we almost got caught by the killers,” Lacey gasped, and then started to cry. “I’m not sleeping out here. I’m going inside.”
“Calm down,” Sarah said.
“Don’t tell me to calm down. We almost got caught by the killers!” Lacey looked like she was about to hyperventilate.
“Take it easy.” Sarah patted her on the back. “I’m sure they didn’t get a good look at us.”
“You hope,” Lacey retorted.
“They didn’t. I knocked the flashlight out of his hands before he could shine it on us.”
“Yeah, and Sarah got him with my perfume,” Jackie snickered. “He didn’t see anything.”
Sarah couldn’t help but smile at the memory. “Yeah, we got him good.”
“You think so?” Lacey sniffled.
Jackie put her arm around Lacey. “Absolutely.”
“I never thought I’d say this, but your fashion sense saved us this time.” Sarah snickered.
“There. You see, girlfriend, being fashionable is an asset.”
Sarah and Jackie giggled. The laughter felt good to Sarah and she relaxed.
“I’m still going to sleep inside,” Lacey said. She pulled her sleeping bag around her and jogged toward the house.
Sarah heard the screen door slam behind her sister. She sighed and flopped down on her bed roll.
“That was too close for comfort,” Sarah said.
“You can say that again, girlfriend.”
“I need a soda.” Sarah opened the cooler and pulled out a can, popped the top, and took a long drink. It fizzled down her parched throat, almost burning it with carbonation, but she continued to drink.
“Hey, hand me one of those.”
Sarah pulled another can from the cooler and tossed it to her. Jackie opened her can and guzzled.
“Ah…that hit the spot,” Jackie laughed, and then quickly grew serious. Her expression turned grave as she said, “Now we know Klonsky killed the Cat Lady.”
Sarah frowned. “Yeah, but we don’t know why, and we still have to prove it.”
“We found his service pin at the crime scene with blood on it. Isn’t that our proof?”
“Yeah, but I don’t think it’s going to be as easy as you think.” Sarah gazed out at the night sky, deep in thought.
“Why not?”
“He’s a cop. It will be our word against his.”
“So?”
“Who are the police going to believe, us or one of their own?” Sarah sighed, suddenly bone tired.
Jackie set her pop down. “He’s going to get away with it, isn’t he?”
“No.” Sarah shook her head. “We’ll think of something.”
“You know, I’m trying to figure out this D.W. guy.”
“What do you mean?”
“Well, who is he? And did you see what he was wearing? Overalls and a baseball cap.”
“So what? Oh wait, overalls aren’t fashionable, right?” Sarah smirked.
“When have you seen a grown man wear overalls?” Jackie pulled her hair out of her rubber band and shook her curls. They looked like a sea urchin waving its arms in the ocean.
“Maybe he’s a farmer,” Sarah suggested. “This is a farm town, you know?”
“Farmers are in bed early during the summer. That’s when they’re the busiest. The guy’s no farmer.”
“So what do you make of it?” Sarah asked, chewing on her thumbnail.
“I don’t know, I just think it’s strange.” Jackie’s brow furrowed as she concentrated. “There’s just something weird about him. Did you hear him talking?”
“Yeah, I did. He didn’t seem smart.”
“No, he didn’t.”
The girls sat together in a grim silence, drinking their soda. Sarah welcomed the quiet, after the tension of the last few hours it felt good.
“Hey, what about the detective?” she asked.
“Which one?”
“The one who investigated the kidnapping thirty years ago.”
“Yeah,” Jackie said, sitting up and grinning. “He could help us.”
“Let’s call him tomorrow and see if we can meet with him.” Sarah took another swallow of her soda.
“Why don’t we have Scott call him? He might know him, since his dad’s the chief.”
“Good idea. We’ll have Lacey call Scott in the morning.”
“I don’t know about you, but I’m whipped,” Jackie yawned.
“Yeah, me too.” Sarah unzipped her sleeping bag, and crawled inside. “Night.”
“Good night,” Jackie mumbled.
Sarah snuggled deeper into her sleeping bag. She shivered as she thought about their narrow escape. Her muscles tensed as she replayed the events of the night in her head. Thinking back, she was sure Klonsky hadn’t seen their faces.
All of a sudden, Sarah heard the sound of a car. It seemed to slow down and sit idle as if it were at a stop sign waiting for traffic to clear. Crawling out of her bed roll, she crept to the entrance of the tent. With a pounding heart, she pulled the flap back just far enough for her to look out. She gl
anced at Jackie and noticed she watched her with wide eyes.
Just as she was about to look at the car, the driver revved its engine and peeled out. The car’s screaming tires destroyed the peaceful night. It left the bitter scent of burning rubber. Sarah sighed with relief when she no longer heard it. Without a word, she crawled back into her sleeping bag and snuggled closer to Jackie.
Chapter Eight
Sarah woke and found herself alone in the tent. Sitting up, she rubbed her eyes and shook her head. She felt groggy. She hadn’t slept well after her run in with Klonsky. Stretching, Sarah glanced around the tent and spied the photo album in the corner. She grabbed it and started turning the pages.
She studied the pictures, hoping to understand the Cat Lady a little better. There were photos of David and his mother hugging. Another captured David and his first fish, according to the caption below, and both mother and son seemed proud. The next picture showed David and his mother throwing their heads back in laughter. Across from that picture was one showing both of them sleeping in a hammock, the Cat Lady on her side and David curled up next to her, his mother’s arm thrown around him in a protective gesture. Looking at these pictures, Sarah realized David and his mother had been close.
Sarah caught another glimpse of what the Cat Lady had been like before the kidnapping. She saw a mother who loved her son without measure, unconditionally. A lump rose in her throat and tears welled in her eyes, as she imagined the pain the Cat Lady must have endured when her son disappeared. Wiping away her tears, she focused on her search for clues. As she turned the page, Sarah gasped. Shock ran through her body like a bolt of lightning.
“Holy cow,” Sarah said out loud. She carried the album with her as she dashed from the tent. Opening the screen door, she found Lacey and Jackie in the kitchen making breakfast.
“Hey,” Jackie greeted her.
“Hey, you guys, take a look at this.” She opened the photo album and pointed at a picture of two young boys in baseball uniforms—she read the caption below. “’David and his friend LONNY KLONSKY before their first baseball game.’”
Jackie’s eyes widened. “I don’t believe it. Klonsky and David Fedewa were friends.”
“Don’t you find that odd?” Sarah asked.
“Very strange.” Jackie nodded emphatically, sending her curls into a frenzy.
“These crimes are connected.” Sarah pounded the table with her fist.
Jackie patted Sarah on the back. “You are a brainiac.”
“What do you mean?” Lacey asked.
“Klonsky was involved in David’s kidnapping, I just know it. And we found out last night he murdered the Cat Lady.” Sarah’s brow furrowed as she concentrated. “I just haven’t figured the whole thing out yet.”
“Don’t you think Lonny was a little young to be kidnapping anyone? I mean he was only five or six,” Jackie said and she paged through the photo album.
Sarah rubbed her forehead. “Good point. We need to talk to that detective.”
“I’m already on it,” Lacey said, taking pancakes off of the griddle. “I called Scott this morning and he’s calling the detective now. He’s retired, so he has lots of free time.”
“Hey, Sarah, who took these pictures?” Jackie asked.
“I don’t know. I wondered that, too.”
“And why isn’t David’s dad in any of these?”
Sarah shook her head. “I have no idea.” She turned to Lacey. “What time is it?”
“It’s noon,” Lacey answered as she glanced at the pineapple clock hanging above the sink.
“Man, I’m starving.”
“Here, eat these.” Lacey set a plate of pancakes in front of Sarah.
“Hey, what about mine?” Jackie protested.
“Don’t get your undies in a bunch—there’s more,” Lacey giggled, and put a plate of pancakes in front of Jackie.
The shrill ring of the phone filled the room, making Sarah jump.
“I’ll get it. It’s probably Scott.” Lacey picked up the phone and walked into the den.
Sarah and Jackie devoured their pancakes.
After a few minutes, Lacey walked back into the kitchen, placing the phone on the counter. “We’ve got a meeting with Detective Swift at two this afternoon.”
“Cool beans!”
“I need a shower,” Sarah declared as she finished her pancakes.
“Jackie, you can use my aunt and uncle’s bathroom,” Lacey said.
“All right.” Jackie dashed off to grab her bag and take her shower.
Sarah pushed her plate away and stood up from the table. “Thanks, Lacey.”
“No problem.”
“I’ll be done in fifteen.”
“Okay.”
Sarah hustled down the stairs. She quickly chose a pair of khaki shorts and a white tank top to wear to the interview. Jumping in the shower, she tingled with anticipation. It felt like her nerve endings had been turned up a notch, and she was super sensitive to everything. The Super Spies were getting closer to finding answers. She could feel it.
After the girls showered, they cleaned the kitchen, and then grabbed their bikes. They set off for the detective’s house and Sarah could still feel the tingles. She was relieved Uncle Walt decided to go into the city for the day. He often left the girls to their own devices, which worked just fine for Sarah. She enjoyed her new freedom and knew she’d have a hard time giving it up when she returned home. Sarah sighed; living in the city had a lot of advantages, but nothing compared to the freedom of a small town. Pedaling faster, she turned her attention back to the task at hand.
“Did Scott tell you where he lives?” Sarah asked.
“He lives on Green Street. Three blocks from the Cat Lady’s house,” Lacey said.
The Super Spies glided through the streets of Harrisburg. Sarah was anxious to find the next piece of the Cat Lady puzzle. She felt the breeze on her skin as she pedaled. It lifted her hair off of her neck, and when she pushed down on her pedals her hair flapped in the wind like a pair of golden wings. Feeling the sun’s toasty warmth on her skin, Sarah beamed. We’re getting closer.
“Do you have everything?” Jackie asked.
“Yeah, it’s all right here in my backpack.” Sarah shifted the backpack so it fit better on her shoulder. “I left the photo album in our bedroom, though. It was just too bulky to carry.”
“Just as long as you have the pin.”
“Here we are,” Lacey said as she glided to a stop in front of a beige house.
The detective’s house stood in the middle of the block. It sat back from the road, giving the impression of a vast yard. On the porch sat an antique wooden bench.
Scott sat on the bench with his crutches to the side. A white bandage encased his foot.
“Hey, guys,” Scott greeted.
“Hey,” Lacey said with a shy smile.
“How’s your foot?” Sarah asked.
“It’s been better, that’s for sure.”
Sarah dropped her bike on the lawn and walked up to the porch. Jackie and Lacey followed her.
“What do you have in the folder?” Sarah asked, scuffing her sandal on the sidewalk.
“I’ve got a copy of the file on the Fedewa murder,” Scott said, grinning broadly.
“How did you get that?” Lacey asked.
“I waited for my dad to fall asleep, and then I made a copy.”
“You have a copier at home?” Lacey twirled her hair with her finger.
“No way. I made it with our fax machine.” He beamed again and puffed up his chest.
Sarah smirked. He looks like a rooster getting ready to crow. “Can I read it?” she reached for the folder.
Scott pulled it away. “Let’s wait until we’re inside.”
“All right,” Sarah frowned.
“It’s just….I’d feel more comfortable inside. Besides Detective Swift is a family friend. Our secrets are safe with him.”
“Well, then, what are we waiting for?” Sara
h bounded up the stairs and knocked on the door.
The tallest man Sarah had ever seen opened the door.
“You must be Detective Swift. I’m Sarah.”
The detective dazzled Sarah with a wide smile. His deep tan contrasted with his snow-white hair. Wrinkles surrounded his bold blue eyes. He would have intimidated Sarah if his eyes hadn’t been so kind. Winking at her, he scanned the rest of the teens in his yard.
His gaze rested on Scott. “Hey, champ. How are you?”
“I’m doing all right.”
“Come on in, and let’s see how I can help you.” The retired detective opened the door wide, motioning for everyone to come inside. “Why don’t we go sit out on the back porch? Does anyone want some lemonade?”
“Yeah,” the Super Spies cried in unison.
“I can show you the way.” Scott hobbled forward. “Follow me.”
“I’ll be back in just a few minutes.” Detective Swift pivoted toward the kitchen.
The Super Spies followed Scott through a long hallway. The walls were covered with antique tools, and Sarah heard the loud tick-tock of a grandfather clock that stood in another room. It was a comforting sound, and she relaxed. She suddenly realized she had been nervous about meeting the detective.
They reached the screened-in porch. It ran the length of the house and was furnished with tasteful wicker furniture. The teenagers fanned out looking for seats. Scott sat on a wicker sofa standing against the inside wall. He propped his foot on a glass-topped coffee table. Lacey sat at the opposite end of the sofa. There was a rocker in the corner across from the couch with a matching end table. Next to the table was an oversized chair. Sarah rested there and Jackie plopped down on the floor, reserving the rocker for the detective.
Sarah suppressed a giggle when she caught Lacey casting shy glances toward Scott. Lacey’s in love. A song breezed into her brain. Scott and Lacey sitting in a tree, K-I-S-S-I-N-G. First comes love, then comes marriage, then comes Scott and Lacey pushing a baby carriage. She averted her gaze so she wouldn’t laugh. Just then, Detective Swift appeared, carrying a tray of lemonade.
After passing out the lemonade, the detective sat in the rocker and took a long drink, then set his glass down on the table next to him. “Well, Scott. Why don’t you start from the beginning?”