So Over My Head (17 page)

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Authors: Jenny B. Jones

Tags: #Christian/Fiction

BOOK: So Over My Head
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The one that came with a card that said,
Your laugh lights up my
day
. “That’s the one. And I really want it back.”

“You
need
it back, you mean. So they won’t know where you’ve been.” He lets my hand fall like he can’t stand the connection any longer. “So within weeks of my gift, you ditch it in Alfredo the Killer’s trailer. I can tell it meant a lot to you.”

“That’s not fair. For your information, that flashlight did mean a lot to me,” I snap. “I thought of you every time I prowled through someone’s belongings.”

Luke closes his eyes and stares at the ceiling. “The likelihood of it still being there is slim. I cannot believe you took a chance like that.”

“Someone was coming, and I had dropped it. Just find a way to sneak into Alfredo’s trailer.” I soften my voice. “Please? If you do, I won’t insult your favorite blonde reporter one time tomorrow.” I pat his chest and give him some more directions. “Be careful, ’kay?”

Ruthie arrives on the scene, cutting off any blistering remark Luke might’ve had. “Yo, carny dudes. What is up?”

I grab Ruthie by the hand. “Come on. We need to go talk to Stewart while he’s on break in his trailer.”

“We do?”

“Bella—” Luke warns.

I shoo him away with my hand as I pull Ruthie along. “Godspeed, Luke. May the force be with you. Oh, and also if you’d provide a distraction for Stewart in about three minutes, that’d be swell.” I give Ruthie a hard yank. “Move quickly before he comes after us.”

“What’s going on, boss?”

“We’re going to go talk to Stewart about an idea you have for your unicycle ballet.”

“But I don’t have an idea.”

“You have about ten seconds to get one.”

chapter eighteen

R
uthie and I disappear around back, and I take us straight to Stewart’s trailer. My hand shakes only slightly when I knock.

“What do you want?”

I pull open the door. “Stew?” I reserve my prettiest voice for only the creepiest of men. “Can we come in?”

His gruff tone changes instantly. “Of course.” He swabs his neck with a towel. “I can always make time for two beautiful ladies.”

Gag. “Ruthie has a great idea for adding to her unicycle routine. She’d like to describe it for you.” I jerk my chin toward Red’s son. “Tell him that amazing idea you were sharing with me.”
Make
something up, Ruthie. Come on
.

“Um, yeah.” She clears her throat and forces a dreamy look into her eyes. “Imagine this. I’m decked out in swan feathers . . .”

As she paints her unicycling scenario, I scan the office for any sign of a piece of paper that looks like a much-used list. If I had to put money on it, I’d bet the paper Red and Stewart have been using in their search is a map. And since he’s standing here in spandex pants and no shirt—ick!—then it sure isn’t on him now. So unless Red has it, it has to be in this trailer somewhere.

“. . . And then Melvin the Midget and Wilhemina the Wondrously Tall Woman will come out and serenade me with Celine Dion’s ‘My Heart Will Go On.’ Then they’ll start throwing the rose petals of course . . .”

I could start with the desk. Then his sleeping quarters. I hate to search through his undie drawer, but if it has to be done . . .

A sharp rapping stops my roaming eye.

Stewart stalks to the door and throws it open. “What?”

Luke peeks through. “Red said to come and get you. Someone’s let the horses out, and he needs your help.”

Stewart hesitates as he looks at me and Ruthie.

“He said to hurry, Stewart.”

Stewart rushes to the back of the trailer and returns with a shirt. “All right, everyone out. I have to go.”

“But what about my ideas?” Ruthie calls as we exit onto the grass.

Throwing up a dismissive hand, Stewart runs toward the animal trailers.

I regard Luke with a tiny amount of disdain for his lack of improv. “That was gutsy. Red said the horses were out? Like he’s not going to know that’s a lie in a second.”

“Wasn’t a lie. The horses really are loose. Kinda crazy over there.” He rocks back on his heels. “By the way—no flashlight.”

“Are you kidding me?”

“It’s gone.” And he’s ticked. At me.

Great! Whoever has it knows I was in that trailer.

Luke looks past my shoulder. “Are we going to stand here all day or go back in?”

“Ruthie and I are going in. You stay out here and keep guard.” When he starts to protest I beat him to it. “If Stewart can forgive any-one for being in the trailer, it’s us—seeing as how we’re girls and all.”

Luke clenches his jaw. “Hurry up. And don’t leave anything this time.”

“Oh, you’re funny.”

Five minutes later, I jump as Luke sticks his head in. “Anything?”

“No!”

“Hurry, Bella. You’re driving me crazy.”
Slam!

“There’s nothing here, Ruthie. We might as well call it a day. Maybe we’ll get another break and try again later.”

“Snooping stresses me out. I need a snack.” She peels open the small fridge on the counter.

“Get out of there!” I shove it closed. “We have to go.”

“I saw chocolate-covered Oreos!” Her eyes twinkle. “Come on. You have to let me have just one. Nobody can walk away from that temptation.”

“One. And I’m leaving.” I speed walk to the door.

“Who would’ve thought Stewart was a boxer guy, huh? I had him pegged as more of a—” Ruthie gasps. “Omigosh!”

My hand freezes on the door.

“I found it.” She holds up a yellowed piece of paper. “I found a treasure map!”

Brain in overdrive. Heart beating out of my chest. Think! Think! I don’t know what to do.

I turn a full circle around the trailer. The printer. I’ll make a copy!

“Ruthie, keep an eye on the door.” My pulse races, the sound echoing in my head. If we get caught . . . I don’t even want to think about it. I slap the paper down on the machine, and close the lid. The printer sounds too loud in the silence of the small office.

When someone bangs on the door, Ruthie and I both squeal.

“Hide!” comes Luke’s voice from outside.

My eyes flit to the desk. To the sleeping area in the back. Maybe under the dining table?

“Come on. We must have company.” I grab Ruthie by the arm and pull her into the bathroom. Shutting the door, I follow her into the cramped shower, where we stand close enough to be PG-
13.

“Don’t think I usually do this on the first date,” Ruthie whispers. “You’re an exception.”

I hear the trailer door open. Then Stewart’s voice. “I don’t have time to talk right now.”

“But I have some questions about the lighting for Ruthie’s ballet,” Luke says, his volume raised.

“Look, I have bigger things to deal with than some unicycle act.”

Ruthie’s mouth drops into an O. I squeeze her arm and shoot her a warning look.
Do
not
say a word!

Luke tries again. “If you could come out here and look at the light board—”

“You were told to help with the horses. Now get out there or leave the grounds and don’t come back.”

I hear Luke expel a harsh breath then the door slams again, rocking the trailer.

He’s gone? Now what? I left the map in the printer. I’m such an idiot! I could’ve at least grabbed that. We could be stuck in here with a potential killer. My mom is going to be so mad!

I raise my mouth to Ruthie’s ear. “Work together. Follow my lead.”

I wrench open the bathroom door. “Surprise!”

Stewart jumps straight up, and a string of curses split the air.

I launch into song. “Happy birthday to you! Happy birthday to you!” I clap my hands and walk toward him as Ruthie helps me finish the tune. “Yay!”

I hug Stewart, waving madly with my hands to my friend.
Go
get the maps!

Stewart leans his scrawny self into me and pulls me close. Ew. Ruthie fumbles with the printer as time stretches into an eternity.

Must stall. “Stewart, close your eyes,” I purr.

“Oh? Really?”

“Now, no cheating. I’ll be mad if you do.” I take a step back. “You don’t want me angry, do you?” I pucker my lips in a saucy pout.

“No,” comes his breathy reply.

“I didn’t think so. Because I have a birthday present for you.”

“But it’s not really my birthday.”

He closes his eyes, and I change places with him, turning him away from the office. “I guess I must’ve heard wrong then.” I place my hands on his shoulders and squeeze. I’m totally washing these hands in bleach when I get home. “How about a birthday shoulder massage!”

“Uh . . .” His voice is a deflated balloon. “I guess.”

Yeah, that’s
all
you’re getting
. What was he thinking? Creep.

I let out the breath I’m holding as Ruthie slowly extracts the map and picks up the copy, which disappears down her shirt. I jerk my head toward the refrigerator.
Go!

“What’s all that noise?” Stewart asks.

“That’s just Ruthie warming up her hands. She’s a whiz at shiatsu. Keep those eyes closed!” As Ruthie moves, I shift Stewart until he’s facing the office again. “You have such strong shoulders!” And bony. Almost skeletal in fact.
So
not hot.

I check over my shoulder to see Ruthie in the fridge.

And that’s when the trailer door busts open again.

“Dad!”

I drop my hands. “Mr. Fritz!”

“This is treachery! It will
not
be tolerated!” Red’s mottled face radiates with fury. It’s all over.

“Dad, I—”

Ruthie and I look at each other, and somehow I find my voice. “Mr. Fritz, if you’ll let me explain—”

“I’ll have his head on a platter!” Red roars.

Stewart stands up uncertainly. “I’ll find out who let the horses—”

“Horses?” With wild eyes, Red shakes his head. “I’m talking about Alfredo.”

I blink. “Huh?”

“Alfredo DeLucci. He escaped from prison this afternoon.” Red’s eyes pierce his son. “Seems the magician has vanished into thin air.”

chapter nineteen

T
he birds sing happy morning songs, as I get my tired body out of the Bug and join Luke and Ruthie in the school courtyard.

I take a sip from my McDonald’s mocha. “Let’s see the map.”

Ruthie looks at Luke. “Turn around please.” She twirls her finger in a circle.

Obviously used to her oddness, he complies without question.

Ruthie sticks her hand way down her shirt, her face scrunched in concentration. “I wanted to keep it protected, so I didn’t shower last night. I even slept with my bra on, keeping the map safe. And cushioned.”

“Noble of you,” Luke says.

She rustles around a bit more before drawing out the paper and holding it up like the Holy Grail. “Perfectly safe . . . if not a little toasty.”

I take the map and spread it out on the nearest picnic table. “There’s the water tower. The school.” I slide my finger across the drawn path. “But . . . where’s the end?”

Ruthie straightens her blouse. “Every good treasure map has an X that marks the spot. What kind of loser map is this?”

Luke leans close and peers over my shoulder. “It’s not complete. It can’t be.”

A breeze floats by, carrying his cologne with it. I struggle to focus on anything else but that familiar scent. “So when Red and Stewart were digging all over the place, they were just guessing.”

“Then where’s the other half?” Ruthie asks. “And who has it?”

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