When Read Online Free PDF Page B

him a message, but I didn’t hear from him before the bell. After it rang, I
stayed put until most of the students had cleared out of the building, and then I hurried through the nearly empty halls to my locker. After gathering up my books, I made my way to the back
entrance next to the pool. My bike was locked up in the bike rack, but there were three smashed eggs on the seat. A smudged piece of paper had the words:
Three little chickies died here,
10-30-2014.
    I recognized Eric Anderson’s handwriting. Crumpling up the paper I looked around for something to wipe off the seat. “Hey!” I heard while I searched the ground.
    Glancing up I saw Stubby walking toward me, carrying a wad of paper towels and his skateboard. “It was Eric and Mario,” he said, handing me the towels.
    My hands were shaking while I mopped up the mess. “Thanks, Stubs.”
    “What the heck did Harris call you to his office for?”
    I wanted to tell Stubby all about the encounter in the principal’s office, but even more I wanted to get home to tell Ma and maybe have her call Uncle Donny. It wasn’t unusual for
Donny to wait to call me back, but Ma’s calls he always returned.
    I didn’t know how Ma was gonna react, and that worried me. But then I had another thought. I looked up at Stubs and said, “You remember hanging out with me yesterday,
right?”
    Stubby’s brow furrowed. “Yesterday?”
    “Yeah. We hung out and studied for the chem test, remember?”
    He nodded. “I remember.”
    I tossed the paper towels in the trash and unlocked my bike. “If anybody comes to your house and asks about it, you’ll vouch for me, right?”
    Stubby cocked his head. “Mads, what’s going on?”
    I hopped onto the bike and shoved off. “I’ll call you later; just remember what I said!”
    I got home fast, but not fast enough. There was a black sedan parked in front of our house—and I didn’t think it was a client’s.
    I left my bike by the garage, then crept to the back door, which was ajar, but the storm door was shut. Putting my ear to the thin pane of glass, I heard voices—Ma’s and someone
else’s. I recognized Faraday’s deep baritone right away.
    “It’s up to you, Mrs. Fynn. If you’d like to have your brother-in-law present while we question your daughter, that’s your right as her guardian. But he’s going to
tell you not to talk to us, and if something has happened to Tevon Tibbolt, and your daughter knew about it or played a role in it, then I’m afraid it could go bad for her pretty
fast.”
    “Maddie had nothing to do with that boy’s disappearance!” Ma snapped.
    I strained to hear her, listening for the telltale signs that she’d hit the bottle too hard today, but her speech was only a little thick. Maybe they wouldn’t notice.
    “But you admit that she threatened the boy’s mother,” Faraday said.
    “Of course she didn’t! Maddie wouldn’t hurt a fly.”
    “Can you account for her whereabouts yesterday?” another voice asked. Wallace’s, I thought.
    “She was right here with me.”
    I shut my eyes and swore under my breath.
    “The whole day?” Faraday asked.
    “Well, of course not the whole day! She came straight home from school and we were right here until after dinner watching TV. Then she did her homework and went to bed a little after
ten.” I realized that Ma was recounting what I did most days, but not yesterday. I knew that her memory was often fuzzy, so I didn’t think she was trying to outright lie to the
agents.
    “What time did she arrive home from school?” Wallace continued.
    “The usual time,” Ma said. “Two forty-five, I think.”
    There was a pause, then Faraday said, “The usual time? It’s three-ten and she’s not home yet.”
    “That clock is ten minutes fast,” Ma said quickly. I knew they were both referring to the antique wooden clock above the mantel. It was Dad’s clock. He bought it for Ma on
their first anniversary, and he used to set it ten