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Roland
In a thin strip of woods that separated the older neighborhoods from the newer ones, Roland sat on his bike, leaning on the handlebars. And waiting. Caitlyn’s house was just down the road. She might even be outside. He wouldn’t risk glancing though, not with Peter beside him. Peter always had something sarcastic to say when Roland looked her way. Roland wasn’t in the mood for it.
Peter sat on his bike with one foot on the ground. He fidgeted with the black box he claimed would pick up the signal of the tracking device Roland had hidden in the Lexus.
Hiding the device hadn’t been easy. Jarret spent little time at home, and he guarded the keys to the car. Roland had planned to make his move early in the morning while Jarret worked out with his weights in the basement, but his alarm clock hadn’t gone off. The sound of the bathroom door slamming had woken him. Then the shower blasted. Roland tumbled out of bed, bolted to Jarret’s room, and swiped the keys. Heart pounding in his throat at the fear of Jarret catching him, he’d dashed for the garage. Twice he dropped the keys while trying to unlock the door . . . only to discover it hadn’t been locked. Then he couldn’t decide on the best place to hide the thing, so he shoved it under the back, passenger-side floor mat. He raced through the house and back upstairs.
By that time, the shower had stopped. And the instant Roland mounted the top step, the bathroom door swung open and Jarret emerged in a towel. He saw Roland standing there with his mouth hanging open and his hands behind his back.
“What’s your problem?” Jarret had said.
Roland gave no reply. Feeling doomed, he just gulped.
“Why do you look like that?”
“I, uh, I wanted to talk to you.” Roland had backed into Jarret’s bedroom and tried to slip the keys onto the dresser, but they dropped to the floor.
Jarret glanced at them but not suspiciously. “So what d’ya want?”
“Uh . . . I was wondering if, um . . . Want to ride the horses with me after school? They could use the exercise.”
“Can’t.” Jarret stooped for the keys and tossed them onto the dresser. “You should though. And brush Desert. She needs a good brushing.” Desert was Jarret’s horse and he usually took good care of her, spending more time grooming and exercising her than Roland or Keefe did their horses.
“What’re you doing after school?” Roland asked.
“None of your business.” He shoved Roland from the bedroom. “I’m glad you’re taking care of the horses. Mr. Digby don’t exercise them long enough. Better get dressed if you’re riding to school with me.” He closed the door.
Roland had exhaled, hoping Jarret hadn’t suspected anything.
As Roland sat on his bike, he desperately hoped Peter’s tracking device would work and they could keep enough distance to avoid being caught.
“You really think this is the best place to wait for him?” Roland twirled a foot pedal with the toe of his boot. “What if he doesn’t come this way? Maybe he doesn’t go to the same place every day. And what if he sees us when he drives by?”
“Relax, little buddy, and stick to the shadows. The way you’re dressed, all that black, you’re like the Invisible Man.” Peter peered down at his own mustard-yellow sweatshirt then rubbed his chest. “I should-a changed when we got home from school, but you were in such a hurry. I’m like a traffic light. Anyway, if I’m right, Jarret was headed this way until he realized we were following him. Leo, the big goon, he’d never make a good spy. He practically rode Jarret’s bumper. Did you see Leo at school today?”
“Sure. I saw him.”
“Did you talk to him? He’s really mad.” Peter smiled. “He said Jarret was out in the school parking lot looking over cars. He’s worried Jarret’s gonna come after him once he recognizes his car. Think he will?”
“Probably. He doesn’t like people in his business.”
“I bet Leo starts taking the bus to—”
The black box strapped to Peter’s handlebars beeped.
“Ha!” Peter lifted a foot to the pedal. “Game on.” Peering through the woods, he inched his bike forward.
Roland rolled to where he could see the road. A moment later, the silver Lexus sped by and slowed at the intersection. Jarret turned left where he had turned right the other night.
“When I’m right, I’m right.” Peter led the way from the cover of the woods and out onto the street.
“What’s down that road?” Roland pedaled up beside Peter, his eyes on the intersecting road.
“New neighborhood, I think. Maybe your brother has a new friend, a new conscience.” He smirked.
They turned left riding side by side. Newer, two-story houses lined the streets on their left, older houses and empty lots on the streets to the right. The Lexus was nowhere in sight.
Peter tapped his tracking device. The beeping had stopped. “He must’ve turned here. He’s got to be over a quarter of a mile away.”
“So how’s that supposed to help us? We can’t keep up with a car on our bikes.”
Peter threw up a hand. “Chill, man. You West boys are so impatient. Some things you just have to wait for.”
They pedaled past a few more streets when the beeping sounded again.
“Told ya.” Peter gave a cocky grin. “Patience, my friend, and we’ll find him.” His grin vanished, and his eyes opened wide. “Shoot! Maybe we ought to turn around.”
Roland turned to see what Peter saw. His gaze snapped to the Lexus halfway down one of the older streets, backing toward them. Jarret caught them again.
“I’m outta here.” Peter whipped his bike around, skidding one tire.
Roland rode over a curb and dropped his kickstand in the grass.
“Are you crazy?” Peter did an about-face and rode up to him.
“I’m going to talk to him. He saw me already.” Roland swung a leg over his bike and waited as the Lexus stopped and the driver’s door flew open.
Jarret climbed out of the car and gave Roland a nod, inviting him over. Dressed in gray sweatpants and an old black concert t-shirt, he leaned against the car and lit a cigarette.
“No way.” Peter shot a laser beam of hate across the street, at Jarret. “Don’t go to him. Get back on your bike.”
“I’m just gonna ask what he’s been up to.” Roland stepped off the curb.
“Well, been nice knowing ya.” He rode his bike several yards back and turned to watch.
Roland chuckled, but his humor died when he made it across the street and got within spitting distance of Jarret’s sneer.
“Following me, huh?” Cigarette in hand, he picked something off his tongue then spit to the side.
Roland shoved his hands in his jacket pockets. “Hi, Jarret.”
“Were you in the black Taurus following me the other day?”
“Uh . . . yeah.”
Jarret took a hit off the cigarette and gazed into the distance, probably considering how to retaliate. It would probably hurt.
“Since Keefe’s been gone,” Roland forced himself to say, “you haven’t been yourself. I’m worried about you.”
A combination of annoyance and amusement flashed in Jarret’s dark eyes.
Roland’s breath caught. Jarret had a temper only Keefe knew the secret of cooling. What would Keefe say if he were here now?
Jarret pushed off the car and straightened. “Didn’t you already ask me where I’ve been going?” He closed the little distance between them with slow steps.
Roland resisted the urge to back away. “Uh . . . yeah.”
“What answer did I give you?” Jarret stopped inches away and blew smoke in Roland’s face.
“You said . . .” Coughing from the smoke, Roland made a move to step back, but Jarret grabbed his shoulder. “I guess you said it was none of my business.”
Jarret leaned and whispered in Roland’s ear. “That’s right and now you’re gonna remember it.” He drew a fist back and slammed it hard into Roland’s side.
Pain shot through him. He groaned, cracked his knees to the pavement, and doubled over. He reached for the car to pull himself up, but the car door slammed and the Lexus sped away.
“Hey, you all right?” Peter jogged to him and squatted. “Your brother’s a jerk, man. And I hate to say I told you so, but . . .”
Clutching his side and trying to shake off the pain, Roland forced himself to his feet. “I’m all right. He just gets mad when—”
A car whined, the Lexus backing up the road again, coming toward them.
“Get outta the road!” Peter shouted, dragging Roland by the arm.
The car squeaked to a stop near them, and the driver’s window lowered. “You want to know what I’m up to?” Jarret shouted over the heavy metal blaring from his radio. “You really want to know?”
Roland stepped forward, but Peter dragged him back. Roland nodded to Jarret from where he stood. “Yeah, I want to know.”
“705 Bradberry Lane. That’s what I’m up to.”
“Who lives there?”
“Nobody lives there, not yet.” Jarret peered through narrowed eyes, but at least he was talking.
Roland yanked his arm from Peter and approached the open window. “So what’re you doing there?” Roland said.
“I’m helping someone.” An eyebrow twitched, and his eyes held a look of challenge. “Find that hard to believe?”
“No, I-I don’t know. Helping someone do what?”
“You’re always judging me, thinking I’m so bad. I’m just helping the Finns build their house.”
“You’re helping build a . . . ?” Roland tried picturing it. What did Jarret know about building a house? “Who are the Finns?”
“They go to your church. Don’t you know them?” he said, his tone accusing.
“No.” Roland had only recently returned to Sunday Mass, attending the church they’d gone to as a family years ago. He knew almost nobody there, just the kids who went to River Run High.
“I know the Finns.” Peter came up beside Roland. “They’re a big family. Homeschoolers. Lots of kids. I get the impression they’re kind of poor. I guess I remember someone saying they’d outgrown their house and were building another. I didn’t know they were doing the work themselves.”
The car lurched forward. Jarret stared ahead blankly. “It’s cheaper that way.” He turned his eyes on Roland again. “If you care so much, why aren’t you helping them? I’m sure they could use all the help they can get.” He gave a cold grin and took off.
Roland stared, dumbfounded.
“Wow. So that’s a major shock.” Peter kicked a stone into the curb. “Your brother’s helping people. Doesn’t seem possible, does it?”
“No.” Roland held his aching side as he gazed down the street. “Think we should help, too?”
“I don’t know. Feel up to it after that sucker punch? Let’s go to Caitlyn’s. She’s just down the road. Of course, you already know that. I saw you looking for her as we passed.” He grinned.
“I was not.”