That definitely was what he’d been thinking, but it wasn’t obvious in the texts he’d sent. But she should just know he was doing it for her, right? She was his best friend.
But he’d never actually said she was the driving force, had he?
So maybe she was mad—because she was hurt.
The more he thought about it, the more he saw how this thing was one big misunderstanding. He’d been thinking Jelly was acting stupid? Yeah, and it only took Parker three days to figure out how he’d messed up. Who was the stupid one now?
He just wanted the old Jelly back. At three o’clock he sat on the front step to his house and sent her a text.
Going out in the Bomb later. Wanna ride?
He waited. Just watched the screen. Nothing.
“This is ridiculous. What are you doing, Parker? Give her some space.” Maybe she was busy. Maybe she still thought he was a jerk. Maybe he needed to give her a reason to even want to answer his texts.
He pecked out a quick text—then spent the next five minutes reading and rereading it.
Hey, I’m really sorry about my dumbness Wednesday. I see it now.
When he was absolutely sure the text couldn’t make things any worse, he sent it—and waited.
Five minutes later she replied. Thanks. Can’t talk now. Will text when I can.
“Okay.” He smiled. At least it didn’t sound like she was mad anymore. The chances of going out in the Bomb were looking good after all. He grabbed his bike and headed to the landing. He’d walk the shoreline until she texted back.
He was sitting on the dock at Smallwood’s Store when his phone chirped just after four-thirty.
Jelly.
He swiped open her text and glanced over at the Boy’s Bomb, half expecting she would be there.
Maria knows everything. Stay away from Clayton.
He stared at the text and fired back one of his own.
He knows too?
No. She promised she wouldn’t tell him.
Which was amazing. How did you manage that?
Had to make her some promises back.
Parker didn’t like the sound of that. Like clean her room or something?
Or something.
He stared out over Chokoloskee Bay. Was she deliberately being evasive? You’re sure Kingman doesn’t know?
Pretty sure. But don’t take any chances.
If Clayton didn’t know about the texts being bogus, then he’d be expecting to meet Maria at nine tonight. Is she going to meet him at Gator Hook Trail?
She’s messed up. I’m scared. Can’t say more.
Parker stood. Started pacing the weathered planks of the pier. Why didn’t she answer his question? Let’s go out in the Bomb. You’ll feel better.
No. Want to stay here. See if I can talk her out of it.
She almost never turned down time in the Boy’s Bomb—when she wasn’t hopping mad at him. Talk her out of what exactly?
I can’t say.
Parker’s stomach churned. You don’t know what she’s going to do, or you know but can’t say?
Second one.
“Gee, Jelly . . . what’s going on?” Why not?
I told you. I promised.
Okay, so they formed some kind of uneasy alliance not to rat each other out. He dialed her phone.
She picked up on the first ring. “I can’t talk.” It definitely sounded like she’d been crying, but her voice wasn’t shaky. In fact, she sounded determined. When she got that way, there was no chance she’d budge. Still, if she didn’t want to talk, why answer the phone? Maybe what she was really saying was that she couldn’t just offer him information, but deep down she was hoping he’d figure it out. “All right. You can’t just open up and tell me what’s going on, right?”
“Right.”
Okay, this was the tricky part. “How about we play twenty questions?”
Jelly didn’t answer, but Parker could hear her breathing on the other end.
“Hey, if I ask something you absolutely can’t answer, we stop, okay?”
She didn’t say a word.
Okay, she was game—barely. He’d have to step carefully or she’d kibosh the whole thing. Start with easy stuff. Questions he already knew the answer to. Things that wouldn’t put the promise she’d made at risk. “So you had a talk with your sister.”
“Yes.”
“She’s done some crazy things this week, and you found out what she’s planning next, right?”
“Yes.”
So far so good. “Something stupid?”
“Yes.”
“Worse than anything she’s done so far?”
A pause. “Yes.”
The sun was slowly backing away from shore. From Chokoloskee Bay. From Parker. “When is she going to do this?”
Jelly didn’t answer.
But it wasn’t a yes or no question, either. “Is she going to do this soon?”
“Yes.”
“Tonight?”
Silence. Had he pushed too hard?
“I don’t want to play anymore,” Jelly said.
“No, no, no. I’ll drop the question.” The answer was obvious by her reaction anyway.
Careful now, Parker. Back off a bit. Sunlight flashed off the surface of the bay—like a signal light on a ship with a desperate message. “You said she knows everything. So she knows about the tires, and the texts to Kingman—that it was me?”
“Uh-huh.”
Parker groaned. Part of him wanted to know how Maria had put it all together. He could find that out later. Right now, he had to stay focused. “But Maria’s not going to tell Kingman?”
“No.”
Of course. Maria didn’t have to tell Kingman a thing. There was nothing to stop her from meeting up with him tonight. She knew exactly where Kingman would be at nine o’clock. It would be like Parker had actually set up the time and place for a rendezvous.
Maybe Jelly couldn’t do anything, but Parker could still stop this. All he had to do was leak the information to his dad, or Uncle Sammy. It was time to circle back around to the question she’d dodged with the texts. “So, she’s going to meet him at Gator Hook Trail?”
“No.”
What? Jelly had never lied to him. Not that Parker knew of, anyway. But this made no sense. “You’re saying Maria knows Kingman is going to be there, but she’s not going to meet him? Not?”
“Correct.”
He had to make sure he was getting this right. “She’s going to stand him up?”
“Yes.”
“And you’re not ecstatic?”
“No.”
“Because it sounds like great news to me. I’m thinking it proves she’s having second thoughts. Am I right?”
“No.”
Okay. Think, Parker. He stared out past the Boy’s Bomb. Following the frenzied shoreline as it circled the bay. He stopped at the mouth of the Lopez River. Maria was going to do something insane tonight instead of meeting Kingman. Which made some sense—in a twisted way. Maybe she figured that pulling another reckless stunt would make her dad let her date Kingman again—for her own safety. Not that dating Kingman would be any less dangerous. “So she’s going to do something really stupid, and you’re going to stop her.”
“I can’t.” She said it without hesitation. And with force. Like she was impatient with him. Like he should be figuring this out sooner.
This was crazy. “If you aren’t going to stop her, then tell me about her plan. Wilson and I will stop her.” Better yet, he’d bring his dad in on the new intel. He’d find a way to stop her. Hopefully some way that didn’t call for a $7,300 payola and some super risky plan to make it happen.
“You haven’t been listening. I can’t.”
Parker looked out over Chokoloskee Bay. For one brief second he wanted to chuck his phone as far from shore as he could. “Jelly . . . you do remember the whole point of all we’ve been doing is to protect Maria, right? Wilson and I are doing our best—but you’ve got to h
elp us out a little.” Okay, he probably could have gone all day without saying that, but come on. She was being totally ridiculous about this.
“Boys can be so stupid, you know that?”
Boys could? Parker held his tongue, but it wasn’t easy. “Just tell me already so us stupid boys can protect your stupid sister, okay?”
A long pause. Uncomfortably long. “We’re past protecting Maria. If you haven’t figured that out, you’re dumber than I thought. I gotta go.”
“No, wait—please.” Twenty questions was over. Obviously. But for all the answers he got, Parker was more confused than ever. “You know what Maria’s going to do. Tonight. And you won’t tell me so we can protect her. What am I missing?”
Jelly gave an exasperated sigh. “I break my promise to her—and she breaks hers to me. You figure it out. And I’ve said too much already.”
Jelly disconnected before Parker could even say goodbye. He stood there on the dock, staring out over the bay.
His mind whirled. Maria promised not to tell Kingman about what Parker had done—as long as Jelly kept Maria’s secret about her plans tonight. That’s what she said, right?
And hadn’t Jelly warned Parker about what Kingman would do to him if he ever found out about the tires—and the texts?
“Jelly was right . . . how stupid can I be?”
The promise Jelly made . . . it wasn’t about protecting Maria.
“Jelly made the promise to protect me.”
CHAPTER 37
ANGELICA BURIED HER HEAD in her pillow and cried the moment she hung up on Parker. She hadn’t broken her promise to Maria. But now she was pretty sure Parker would figure out why. She shouldn’t have played the stupid twenty questions with him in the first place.
But there was nothing she could do about it now. About any of it.
And she sure wasn’t going out for a ride in the Boy’s Bomb with him. She’d break down and tell him everything for sure. He was in this too deep already. Clayton would eventually find out what Parker had done. He was relentless that way. He’d badger Maria until she spilled. And even Maria wouldn’t be able to stop him from some cruel payback. Clayton’s blend of swamp justice.
Would Clayton really kill Parker? Everything in her gut said he would—and nobody would find his body.
The only chance Parker had was if Maria had a total heart change—saw Clayton for who he was—and didn’t go through with her plans for tonight. In a totally weird way, Parker’s fate was tied to Maria’s.
Angelica checked the time. Five o’clock. Which meant she had exactly three hours to find a way to get Maria to change her mind.
CHAPTER 38
HOW DO YOU STOP SOMEONE from sneaking off and doing something stupid, when you don’t have any idea what they’re planning to do? Parker thought about that for a minute. The answer was obvious. Don’t let her out of your sight.
He checked the time on his phone, and the battery life. He grabbed his trail pack and dumped everything out of it, then refilled it with whatever he could think of that he might need.
Flashlight. Extra batteries. Quick charge stick for the phone. Hoodie. Mosquito spray. Survival knife. Water bottle. Binoculars.
What else?
He was probably forgetting something, but if he didn’t act fast he might be too late. He zipped the bag, slung it over one shoulder, and dialed Wilson.
He answered on the second ring. “Gonna try talking me into knifing tires with you?”
“I had more of a stakeout mission in mind.”
“I’m in. Where?”
“Maria’s. She’s going to try something, and our job is to keep her from doing something stupid. I’ll bike by your house in three minutes.”
Wilson laughed. “I love it. I’ll be on the driveway.”
Sure enough. Parker was still a half block from Wilson’s when he saw his friend straddle his bike with a pack of his own strapped on his back. Wilson stood on the pedals and rode out to meet Parker so he never had to slow down.
Parker filled Wilson in on the ride to Maria’s. By now the whole idea of Jelly “protecting” Parker had him totally annoyed. She would risk Maria’s safety to protect him? He was pretty sure it had something to do with his gimpy arm. She didn’t think he could take care of himself, so she was stepping in like some overprotective mom. Oh yeah, Parker definitely hated that she felt the need to be his Mulan or something. No thanks. Parker could take care of himself.
They stashed their bikes behind a wall of blue crab traps stacked across the street from Maria’s home.
“Let’s do our surveillance from here,” Parker said. They could see through the traps decent enough, and the vantage point gave them a clear view of the house. If Maria tried to leave, they’d see her. And they’d be close enough to do something about it.
“So run this by me again,” Wilson said. “We see her sneaking out, we follow. That’s it? I mean, if she’s on foot . . . great. But what if she has a ride? How are we going to keep up with a car if we’re riding bikes?”
Parker didn’t need Wilson to tell him the plan had some massive logic gaps. But at least they’d be doing something. Maybe they could just block the driveway with their bikes. “You have a better idea?”
Wilson smiled, reached in his backpack, and pulled out his paintball marker. He screwed the barrel in place and just held it out for a second, like he expected Parker to give him a medal.
“Seriously?”
“We can’t keep up with a car, so our job is to keep her from getting in one, right?” Wilson pulled the compressed air cylinder from his pack and screwed it onto the gun. “You gotta use your head, Boyscout Bucky.”
“Using a paintball gun to stop her . . . that’s using your head?”
Wilson attached the ammo hopper, pulled out a plastic bag of paintballs, and scooped handfuls in. “I have 250 rounds. We ought to be able to keep her holed up in the house with that. Unless she calls the police or something.”
Parker kind of liked the idea, but seriously? “You’re crazy.”
“No, you’re crazy for not bringing yours. But if we run low on ammo you can keep her pinned down while I bike home for more.”
“You can’t just sit here and peg her with paintballs.”
Wilson eyed Maria’s house. “I’ve nailed you from just as far.”
“No, I mean, we shouldn’t do this.”
Wilson stared at him. “She’s going to do something stupid. We’ve got to stop her. You said it yourself.”
“So, we do something stupid to stop something stupid?”
Wilson grinned. “I knew you’d come around.”
The thing was, Wilson’s plan actually made sense. And now that Maria knew Parker was behind the tires and texts, what difference did it make that she knew he was stepping up his game?
He fired off a text to his dad.
Camping out by Uncle Sammy’s. Making sure Maria doesn’t sneak out. Will catch you up later---but I think she is planning something crazy tonight.
A minute later Dad responded.
Uncle Sammy and I are keeping an eye on the king. Sounds like we’ve got some teamwork going.
Okay . . . so that was good. Between Dad and Uncle Sammy—and Wilson and himself—they had this covered, right?
Wilson took a practice shot toward Maria’s house. They were well within range. “I pelt her a time or ten. Not in the face. Just mess her up a little. If the sting doesn’t stop her, the paint will. She won’t meet anybody looking like a Picasso. She’ll have to go back inside and change. When she comes out—I’ll do it again. Eventually she’ll run out of clean clothes. She’ll have to stay home and do laundry.”
Parker laughed. Okay, it was a crazy idea. But crazy had been working for them so far.
“C’mon, Bucky. All we have to do is delay her so she can’t go out and do something she’ll regret for the rest of her life, right?”
Absolutely true. Maybe Parker was overthinking this. “How many changes of clothes do
you think she has?”
Wilson snorted. “We could be doing this all night.”
CHAPTER 39
THE ONE THING PARKER FORGOT? Food. By six-thirty his stomach was giving him all the reminders he needed. “I’m starving.”
“We gotta get something to eat.” Wilson rolled a couple of paintballs in his hand like a pair of dice. “I’m almost hungry enough to try one of these.”
Parker shifted to work out the stiffness in his legs. “You could bike home and grab us something. You’d be back in ten minutes.”
“And miss the chance to add some color to Maria’s outfit?” Wilson shook his head. “Maybe you could phone Jelly. Ask her to bring us a couple of the PB and J sandwiches she loves so much. And maybe a pack of Twinkies or something.”
“Right.” Parker nodded. “Hey Jelly, we’re waiting to ambush your sister. Can you bring us some snacks?”
Wilson laughed. “I see no problem with that.” He raised his head above the crab trap. “What if Maria’s not in there? Then we’re guarding an empty house, when we could be raiding your fridge.”
“We just saw her ten minutes ago.”
“They have a back door.”
“That leads to a backyard—which leads to nowhere.” Parker picked up the binoculars and trained them on the windows again.
“You look like some kind of stalker, you know that, Bucky? Spying through the windows.”
“Thanks, you jerk.” What if she did slip out the back? Could they have missed her?
“Funny how life has a way of going in circles,” Wilson said. “She used to be your sitter, but it looks like you’re babysitting her now.”
Parker grinned. “We should be getting paid for this.”
“Seeing the look on her face when I peg her with this,” Wilson patted his paintball gun, “is all the pay I need.”
A red pickup rounded the corner and headed for Jelly’s house. Rust rimmed every wheel well. The bed didn’t sit quite straight—like the supports underneath were half eaten away too.
Escape from the Everglades Page 18