A Race Against Time (12 page)

I stopped my bike,
got out the photograph of Jasper’s bike tire tread, and brought it close to my bike’s headlight beam. It was an exact match to the one on the old path.

A cool shiver cascaded down my spine, causing goose bumps to pop up under the sleeves of my hoodie. I jumped back on my cycle and followed the mountain bike trail. It was patchy, and once in a while it would phase out altogether for a few yards. But then I’d pick it up again in my headlight. Jasper’s bike had definitely traveled this same path. That is, Jasper’s
brother’s
bike had traveled this same path.

Another wave of chills. Jasper’s brother, I reminded myself. Jasper told me he was going to use the bike this weekend, but then his brother needed it back
because . . . because . . . his brother’s car had broken down after the race started.

“Yikes!” I said out loud, and then clapped my hand over my mouth, hoping no one had heard me. Of course!

Charlie Adams told us that he had been on a service call to fix Officer Rainey’s water pump right after the race had started. And Jasper told me that his brother needed the mountain bike back
right after the race began because his car had broken down.
Jasper never told me his full name. Could his last name be Rainey?

I pulled the brakes and stopped my bike. I dropped my left foot down to lean on for support. I needed a few moments to follow my trail of thought, instead of the bike trail.

In my mind I went over every word that I could remember of my conversation with Officer Rainey and Mrs. Mahoney while we had tea in the conservatory.

Officer Rainey had told me at first that he wasn’t concerned about Jasper jumping up on the stage that morning because he thought he was merely an eager competitor. Was that why he smiled when he hustled Jasper back off the stage? Was it a friendly smile from a public servant? Or a smile of recognition for a brother?

Seemed too simple. There’s more, I told myself. Think.

What was it Officer Rainey said about talking to Jasper later? Oh, yes—he said he didn’t know where Jasper lived, because when he had interviewed him that afternoon, Jasper was still hanging around town.

But wait a minute—he also thanked me for telling him that Jasper was not one of the racers.

Of
course
! That’s what I’d been trying to figure out for the last hour. Officer Rainey was lying! If Jasper was still hanging around in the afternoon, Rainey already
knew
he wasn’t in the race. Rainey either lied when he said he thought that Jasper was one of the racers, or when he said he talked to Jasper that afternoon. Either way, Rainey hadn’t been honest. And it didn’t matter whether he was lying to protect his criminal brother or lying to protect his own criminal skin. He had some major explaining to do.

I got back in the saddle and picked up the trail of mountain bike treads in the mud. After a few more miles the tracks veered off the old path and down a rugged hill toward a large cluster of trees and bushes.
A DEAD END
sign was posted at the top of the hill.

I turned off my headlight, pulled my bike off the path, and hid it in a large bramble bush. I took my backpack out of one of the panniers and checked the contents. I emptied out the comb and lip balm and
other stuff I didn’t need. I didn’t know how long I’d be hiking, so I wanted to keep the pack as light as possible.

I took my cell phone, pen and notebook, pocket-knife, energy bars, and penlight. Then I pushed my bike, my helmet, and the other stuff I was dumping under the bramble bush. Unless someone was looking for it, it wouldn’t be spotted.

Quietly I started hiking down the hill, following the trail of Jasper’s brother’s mountain bike. There was just enough moonlight to see where I was going. When I got to the edge of the river, the bike trail ended—and I saw something moving gently ahead. A decrepit fishing boat bumped at the end of a very short pier.

I ducked behind a fallen tree and watched the area for a few minutes. There was nothing—no sound, except the lapping water and the bumping boat. No one in sight. I waited a few more minutes to muster my courage, and also to plot an escape route. Then I darted straight for the little pier.

I crept quickly across the creaky planks and gazed into the boat. There was a small cabin in the middle of the deck, but it was mostly windows. I crouched to look through the glass. No one was on board—at least until
I
stepped off the pier onto the deck.

The boat was pretty run down, and I saw nothing
that would identify the owner. I stepped inside the cabin, which meant I walked down three short steps. Pulling the penlight from my backpack, I swung the beam around the small room.

A built-in bench along one wall had an old mattress stretched over it. One rickety-looking wooden kitchen chair and a couple of barstools made up the rest of the furniture. A hot plate, an electric popcorn popper, and assorted dishes—both clean and dirty—filled the counter and sink in one back corner. Next to that was a tiny closet full of canned goods with a fishy-smelling canvas deck cover wadded on its floor. The other corner in the back contained a door leading to the teeniest bathroom I’d ever seen—even smaller than the ones on planes.

There was trash piled everywhere in the main room—stacks of newspapers, food wrappers, empty bags—but nothing that looked as if it could be holding a wad of stolen cash. There were no closets. I checked the one cupboard under the sink. There were some pretty disgusting things under there, but no money.

I went to the bench that ran along the wall. I really didn’t want to touch the mattress, so I gently kicked the front of the bench. Hollow. I went to the end and pushed at the corners. The top corner was firm, but the bottom gave a little.

There was no handle, but I wiggled my finger under the wood and tugged. Half the wooden front pulled up like a door hinged at the top. Inside was a set of panniers, a little larger than the ones my team had. They looked like they could serve as saddlebags for a mountain bike.

I eased the bags out onto the floor. They were bulky and heavy. Sure enough, when I opened them up, I found neatly wrapped stacks of cash.

Thinking quickly, I stuffed the money into my backpack. Then I grabbed a handful of newspapers from the ones scattered around the floor, and shoved them into the panniers. I would give Rainey a taste of his own medicine.

I jammed the panniers back into the hidden cupboard and dropped the door down. Then I closed the door, so that it looked exactly the way it had when I found it.

Finally I stood up and swung the backpack full of money onto my back. My only thought was to get off the boat. My heart was beating so fast I felt like it would pop right out of my chest. I couldn’t even hear the boat bumping against the pier anymore, because the pulse in my temples drowned out all other noises.

Well,
almost
all noises.

The sound of clattering metal landing on the deck
outside the little cabin rang out into the night. The boat dipped hard to the right, and I had to take a step to keep my balance. Something had been thrown onto the boat deck, and it sounded like it might have been the mountain bike.

I jumped up and raced for the closet. Another unsettling dip to the right was followed by the sound of footsteps. Someone had stepped onto the deck!

I ducked into the closet and pulled the door shut. As I locked myself in the tiny room, the boat motor chugged to life.

The light in the
room was dim, and the door was only inches from my face. I felt the boat lurch to the right and start to move fast. An arc of light washed over my left shoulder. I looked up and saw a small vent opening at the top of the closet wall. The moonlight was filtering through a screen mesh. That meant we were heading south.

I was pretty sure that there was no one else on the boat but the person who was piloting it, so I knew I could move around and change positions without being heard. It was definitely close quarters, but there was a
little
room for movement.

I was really worried about a couple of things. One, that the pilot would come into the cabin and try to get into the closet. Or two, that he would
come into the cabin to check the money. Either way I was in trouble. I assumed it would be a
he,
because I was thinking it would be either Jasper or Officer Rainey.

What would I do or say if I was discovered? If it was Officer Rainey, I could pretend that I was happy to see him and treat him as if I thought he was tracking the bad guy just the way I was. If Jasper discovered me, my response would have to be different. Either way, I’d have to pretend I knew nothing about the money on board, and try to distract whomever it was from getting close to my backpack. My goal would be to get away as fast as I could—with the money.

While I was working on a possible scenario with Jasper as the pilot, I slumped down onto the canvas piled on the closet floor. My legs ached, so even sitting on the smelly deck cover was better than standing one more minute. I suddenly realized how tired I was. I’d been going nearly full strength for a long time, and it was finally catching up with me. I pulled an energy bar out of my backpack and chomped it down in four bites. Then I washed it down with a couple of slugs of water. It tasted so good!

My eyelids felt really heavy, but every time I closed my eyes, I saw the image of the old road moving between the spokes of my front bike wheel. I could feel
my legs pumping the wheels again, and hear the hum of the tire buzzing in my ears.

Soon the boat seemed to settle into the river current as it chugged further away from the pier. It was just an old fishing boat, but it didn’t feel as if it were moving very fast. I figured the pilot was maneuvering at about half-speed to keep the noise level down.

The boat seemed to rock from side to side as it chugged along, and I scrunched further down into the canvas. At first I had trouble keeping my eyes open. Then I had trouble opening them at all. Finally I no longer heard the motor or smelled the fishy canvas. The only sensation I had was rocking from side to side. . . .

THUNK!

A loud noise vibrated through the boat and jolted me out of my sleepy fog. I shot straight up to my feet and shook my head. There was just a sliver of moonlight slicing through the small screened opening at the top of the closet. I checked my watch. Four o’clock!

My thoughts tumbled. I wasn’t just coming out of a daydream. I’d slept for over an hour!

My heart started fluttering again, and I took a couple of deep breaths to clear my head. Footsteps thumped around the deck to the cabin door, and then down the three steps into the room.

I stood perfectly still, my ears straining to hear. There was a shuffling noise, and then a creak. And then it was still.

There was no sound for almost fifteen minutes. Then snorting and snuffling sounds filled the air. Someone was snoring! I realized that the pilot must have fallen asleep on the mattress across the room.

I hadn’t even thought of this possibility. I ditched all the plans I’d made and sketched out a new one.

After considering different courses of action, I decided to risk leaving the boat while the person slept. If it was Officer Rainey, I would still go with my original plan—telling him that we were two colleagues hot on the trail of the bad guy. If it was Jasper, I’d have to make something up on the spot.

I figured that trying to sneak off the boat gave me at least a chance of leaving without discovery. All other options
began
with my being discovered.

I made myself wait another fifteen minutes or so before doing anything. The snoring had continued without any pause, and it was definitely loud enough to cover my exit noises.

Okay, I told myself at last. Here we go. . . .

I unlocked the door and opened it slightly. Even I couldn’t hear the latch click above the snoring. I moved behind the door for a moment, fully hidden from the person sleeping on the mattress.

The snoring continued, so I stepped out into the room. The sleeper was Officer Rainey, still in his uniform. I crept across the small room, fully aware of the dangerous cargo I carried on my back.

Up the three steps, across the deck, and over to the pier. So far, so good. I stepped carefully off the boat, trying to cause as little motion as possible. I could still hear the snores as I vaulted across the pier and onto land. I noticed there was another boat tied to the pier. It was a high-end speedboat, perfect for a rapid escape downriver.

The moon was nearly gone. I needed to get out of there as quickly as possible. I didn’t really know
exactly
where I was, but I figured I had at least a couple hours’ hike back to where I had hidden my bike.

I jogged quietly up the pier, my legs keeping time with my pounding pulse.