During breakfast Mom told them about the new job, which she thought she was really going to like. She told them about the town where they’d be going to live, too, though she didn’t give them the name of it, only a description.
“It’s on Lake Michigan. The apartment I looked at didn’t work out, so I’m going to try to find a house that’s within walking distance of the water, so you can go to the beach,” she said as she began to clear the table.
Sandy sat up straighter. “A house? Mom, if we get a house instead of an apartment, can we keep Wolf? Can we take him with us?”
Megan thought of how the dog had crouched with her in the woods when she watched the detective, and how he had come to her side last night when she’d been frightened by the sounds of that car.
“He’s a nice dog,” she said, and earned Sandy’s grateful look. “And he eats everything.”
Her mother gave a rueful laugh. “That’s what I’m afraid of. He’s a big dog, and he’ll eat a lot. Buying dog food might mean more tuna casseroles instead of more hamburgers.”
Wolf seemed to know he was under discussion. He thumped his tail, watching closely as the plates were scraped into his dish.
“I don’t know, Sandy. We’ll have to wait and see. If we have a place in town, it would have to have a fenced yard. I don’t believe in letting dogs run loose where they can get into traffic and maybe be hit.”
Sandy hesitated, then decided to let it rest. He brought up another subject that Megan, too, had been wondering about. “Am I going to be called Andrew Kauffman now, instead of Sandy Collier?”
“No. We’ve gone by our names for a long time, and I’ve even had them legally changed. I didn’t do it for several years, because I was afraid that court records would just give us away to Daniel Kauffman, if his detectives came across them. Now that he’s almost caught up with us anyway, I can’t keep changing them. So we are who we are, Sandy.”
Megan couldn’t stand the suspense any longer. “Are you going to call our other grandfather?”
Her mother hesitated, glanced at Grandpa Davis, and sighed. “I woke up early this morning, thinking about it. Yes, I’ll call him, though not from a place where he can trace me. I’m not sure I trust him, no matter what he says. But maybe he’s right. He’s lost his son, he admits he made some mistakes raising Danny, and he figures you kids are his last chance to do something right. Wasn’t that the message, Dad? I hope you aren’t mistaken in thinking he couldn’t take the kids away from me now that I’ve proved I can take care of them.”
She swiped at the counter with a dishrag, then rinsed it and hung it up. “I think I’d better head on back to . . . well, head on back. I’ll call Daniel, but I want to be here when he comes to see the kids, if we agree to do that. Just have a good time here with Grandpa until we get around to it, okay?”
“Mom.” Megan sounded husky. “If we aren’t going to be hiding any more, can I write to Annie? Tell her what’s been happening?”
Mrs. Collier’s hesitation was brief. “Sure. Why not? I felt awful about Annie, Megan. Really I did. I hope she understands. You can blame me, and maybe she will.”
“Could . . . could I still invite her to come here to the lake, the way we planned? Ben says there’s a bus that comes through Lakewood; she could come on the bus.”
“If her mother says it’s all right. I’ll call her, too, when I’m sure about Daniel, as sure as I can be. Now, help me put my stuff in the car, and everybody kiss me good-bye.”
It was quiet after her mother had gone. Sandy and Wolf went for a run down the beach, toward the Jamison cabin, so they’d probably come back with Ben, Megan thought.
She didn’t follow them, however. She had a different idea in mind.
Grandpa had vanished inside the house. Megan walked quickly at first, slowing to examine the sides of the road before she got to the mailboxes.
How close had the car come last night? Where had it stopped?
It was easy to see. There were tire marks in the soft earth beside the hard-packed roadway, though she couldn’t actually make out the tread design.
There was something else that was interesting.
There were footprints.
Megan stared at them—quite clear indentations in a spot of moist earth that was free of grass or twigs.
Someone had gotten out of the car and walked toward the cottage, leaving the car behind.
The others had almost convinced her, earlier this morning, that whoever came in the car was harmless, not interested in the inhabitants of the cottage. Now her pulse quickened as Megan followed the footprints.
It wasn’t easy, because they didn’t show on the road itself. But occasionally there was a print to one side of the well-traveled area, and after she’d gone about twenty yards, she realized there were two sets.
Both were man-sized. One had smooth soles; the other had waffle treads like those on running shoes.
Two men. The same number as had come in the blue car. What had two men been doing here in the middle of the night, when everyone at the cottage was asleep?
Where Grandpa Davis’s driveway turned off the road, she lost the prints entirely because there was grass and patchy dry sand.
She thought about telling Grandpa, then decided he would only think her foolish. It was the detective they had been afraid of, and that matter was taken care of now. After her mother talked to Daniel Kauffman, either they would meet their grandfather, or they would not, but Megan hoped they wouldn’t keep running anymore.
Ben and Sandy were putting a couple of boxes into the boat when Megan approached them.
“What’s going on? What are you hauling out there now?”
“I’m going to stay overnight again on the island, and Sandy’s going until suppertime,” Ben said. “We’ve got so much stuff out there, we might as well use it up. Besides, it’s more fun than sleeping in a bed at home. You want to go out for the day, too?”
“I don’t know if I should or not,” Megan mused. She told them about the mysterious car. “What if they come back? What if they aren’t harmless?”
Ben shrugged. “Your grandpa’s home, so they won’t break in and steal anything. Come on. I brought hamburgers to grill.”
“Okay,” Megan decided. “Are we taking Wolf, or not?”
“Let’s not,” Ben said. “He takes up too much room.”
The big dog had already leaped into the boat. After a brief scuffle, Sandy panted, “Let’s let him come, even if it’s crowded. I can’t get him out unless I throw him overboard, and then he’d probably swim after us.”
“It’d serve him right if he drowned,” Ben said, but he shoved off and climbed in the boat without insisting Wolf stay behind. Megan thought maybe his tough talk was mostly to cover up what he was really thinking. She was beginning to understand that sometimes, when you hurt a lot, you don’t feel like being nice to other people.
They had a good time on the island. They swam off the little cove, cooked their hamburgers at noon, built some more shelves to hold books and the rest of the supplies, and swam again in the afternoon.
While they were drying out on the warm sand, Megan had a sudden thought. “If we take the boat to go home for supper, how are you going to get back to shore, Ben?”
Ben opened his eyes, shading them to look at her. “You mean you aren’t going to swim home?”
“No. You’re going to have to row us in, then row back.”
Ben frowned. “You or Sandy can row home, and then I’ll row back. Maybe I’ll run home long enough to see if Dad’s having anything good for supper, and I’ll go back to the island after I’ve had some of it. He’s a lot more mellow since he finished his book. Come on, let’s go.”
Sandy rowed. Wolf occasionally licked the back of his neck in spite of Megan’s attempts to make him sit quietly with her in the bow. The dog didn’t wait until they had reached shore before he leaped eagerly overboard, rocking the boat so that Megan, trying to grab him, nearly went over, too.
Water splashed over all three of them when Wolf plunged into the lake, so they were damp and complaining good-humoredly when they nosed into the sandy shore.
It was Megan who came to a halt and interrupted the laughter. “That car is back again. The blue one. I can just see a little of it beyond the trees.”
The boys swiveled to look toward the woods. “Let’s go check it out,” Ben said, and trotted off with Wolf and Sandy eagerly following.
“I’m going to tell Grandpa Davis,” Megan said, heading for the cottage.
Her bare feet were soundless on the porch. She had her hand on the screen door when she heard the voice, deep and threatening, inside the kitchen. Megan came to an abrupt halt.
“Oh, you’ll tell us, old man. I guarantee, before we’re through with you, you’ll tell us where those kids are.”
Megan froze, sucking in a breath and holding it. All the fear she thought had faded away after Grandpa Davis talked to that detective came flooding back, worse than ever.
Grandpa’s voice sounded strained. “I already told you. Their mother came and got them.”
“Yeah? Then why is their junk still here? A pair of tennis shoes drying on the steps, and that Monopoly game out. You playing Monopoly all by yourself?”
“Kids don’t always pick things up,” Grandpa said, and Megan craned her neck to see inside.
The cold within her grew worse.
Grandpa Davis was sitting on a kitchen chair. The way he held his arms behind him, he must be tied there. There were two men in the room with him, both with their backs to the outside door; Megan was pretty sure they were the same ones she’d seen through the binoculars from the island. They were wearing jeans and plaid shirts. The small, skinny one was dark haired. The taller, more muscular one was blond.
“Go see if there’s stuff in the bedrooms, Mac,” the dark one said. “Suitcases, clothes, anything like that. I’m betting those kids are still here, or they’re coming back.” The blond one addressed as Mac headed for the living room, and for a moment Megan’s eyes met Grandpa’s across the kitchen. She jerked back to the side of the door, chest bursting with the need for air she couldn’t seem to draw.
“What are you trying to do, old man? Make me think there’s someone behind me, so I’ll give you a chance to do something stupid? We’re not kidding, mister. We want those kids, and if you get in the way we’re not particular if you get hurt.”
Megan saw the boys emerging from the woods on the far side of the yard. Ben was grinning. She shook her head violently and waved them back.
For a moment she thought they wouldn’t understand her silent message. Then Ben put a hand on Sandy’s shoulder, hesitating.
She heard the blond man coming back, heard him say, “They’re still here, all right. Their stuff’s all over two of the bedrooms.”
Megan raised both hands in a pushing motion, and this time Ben definitely understood. He backed away into the shadow of the trees, drawing Sandy with him.
Megan’s heart was pounding so that her chest hurt. What should she do? She didn’t think she could even get off the porch without the men hearing her or seeing her.
There was the sound inside, a blow, and a muffled cry.
“That hurt, old man? You got a broken foot, eh? You want us to break it all over again? Maybe take a hammer to that cast, see how well you do with it off?”
She could hear Grandpa’s breathing, harsh, painful. “I told you. My grandchildren went with their mother. Sure, they left things here. They’re coming back. But they aren’t here now.”
Grandpa was trying to protect them from these men, whoever they were. Whatever they wanted.
What could three kids do to save Grandpa from being hurt?
There was a flurry of movement behind her in the kitchen, and then a heavy thudding sound as the chair, and Grandpa Davis, went over onto the floor. Grandpa cried out, and the men yelled at him. Megan, more terrified than she had ever been in her life, ran past the open door and down the length of the porch, vaulting the railing at the end.
She hit hard. Sharp pain went through one ankle, but she kept on running, falling to her knees only when she’d reached the woods. Then she sat down and grabbed the ankle in both hands, rocking back and forth, gritting her teeth.
Ben and Sandy came scrambling toward her, making too much noise in the underbrush, snapping twigs beneath their weight. Wolf licked at her face, and the pain was so severe she couldn’t move to push him away.
“What’s going on?” Sandy demanded.
Ben was already pulling her hands away from the ankle so he could see it. “Did you break it?”
“I don’t know,” Megan moaned. “It’s starting to swell up already, and it hurts like fury!”
“Maybe it’s only sprained. I sprained mine once, jumping off a roof,” Ben said. “The doctor said I’d have been better off breaking it; then they could have put a cast on it, like your grandpa’s, and I could have walked. I didn’t walk on it for nearly a month while the ligaments healed. What’s going on in there?”
Megan told them, gasping. The pain was already receding, but she wasn’t sure she’d be able to stand on the ankle. “They knocked his chair over, and maybe kicked him. What are we going to do?”
“I let the air out of one of their tires,” Ben said. “I thought it would be funny if they tried to drive away and couldn’t. Might teach ’em not to hide in the woods and creep up on people. But if they’re hurting your grandpa. . . . Maybe I better go get my dad.”
“Yes,” Megan breathed gratefully. “And hurry!”
Ben was up and running. Sandy looked after him uncertainly. “Shall I go with him, or stay here?”
“Stay here. Help me up. I better see if I can walk,” Megan said.
She winced when she put her weight on the sprained ankle. “It’s going to hurt, but I can step on it. I will be able to in a few minutes, anyway. Sandy, they’re hurting Grandpa! We’ve got to do something to make them stop!”
Sandy’s freckles stood out sharply, and his lips looked white. “What can we do?”
She didn’t know the answer to that. “In the movies they create some kind of diversion—you know, make a racket or set a fire or something to draw their attention. . . .”
Sandy glanced around them. “What is there to create a diversion with? We can’t start a fire in the woods; it might get out of control and burn up all the cabins and cottages. And what kind of noise could we make that would make them come outside to investigate?”
Megan felt frantic and helpless. “It wouldn’t help, anyway, unless we could get Grandpa away before they came back. If we could make them go in one direction, while we got Grandpa into the boat, maybe we could get him to the island, only if they saw us . . . Oh, Sandy, I don’t know what to do!”
Her brother licked his lips. “Maybe Ben’s dad will know.”
It seemed hours that they waited for Ben to return, hearing nothing now from inside the cottage. What were the men doing to Grandpa?