Sydney frowned at the stacks of money. “This is really weird, to say the least. What do you think it was doing in the Dumpster?” she repeated.
“Who cares?” Emma glanced around the alley. Then she quickly began to stuff the stacks of fifties back into the bag. “We’d better hide it before anybody sees us with it.”
“You’re right,” Sydney agreed. “Do you think it’s from a bank robbery or something?”
Emma shrugged.
“Maybe the police will know.” Sydney closed the zipper and laughed. “I can’t wait to see the expression on their faces when we hand it to them.”
“Are you serious?” Emma asked. “You really want to hand all this money over to the police?”
“Sure. I mean, what else can we do?”
Emma leaned close, her blue eyes blazing with excitement. “Keep it!” she whispered.
Sydney stared at her friend. “You’re kidding, right?” She waited for Emma to laugh, to tell her she was joking. But Emma didn’t even crack a smile.
She isn’t kidding, Sydney thought. She really means it.
“Think about it, Syd!” Emma urged. “We can split it—fifty thousand dollars each! I could pay for Mom’s operation! We could finally get our roof fixed and buy a new—”
“Whoa!” Sydney cut her off. “How would you explain to your mother where you suddenly got fifty thousand dollars?”
“I’d tell her the truth,” Emma declared. “Mom wouldn’t care. Why should she?”
“Because …” Sydney paused, shaking her head. She couldn’t believe Emma actually wanted to do this. “Look, I don’t want to sound like a goody-goody. But, Emma, it’s not ours!”
“Sure it is!” Emma cried. “It was buried under a pile of garbage inside a Dumpster—and we found it. Finders, keepers. Right?”
“But …”
“Come on, Sydney! Anybody else would keep it. Why shouldn’t we?” Emma demanded. “You know what else I could do with this money? I could go to college. I wouldn’t have to worry about getting that scholarship anymore. And I could buy some decent clothes!”
Sydney’s eyes widened in surprise. “What’s the matter with your clothes?”
“I wear the same things every day.” Emma sighed. “It’s embarrassing. But you wouldn’t know about that,” she added bitterly. “You don’t understand what it’s like to be really poor. What it’s like to want something you can’t have. But I do. And I’m telling you, we’ve got to keep this money!”
Sydney gazed at her, stunned. Has Emma always resented me for being rich? she wondered. Did I just not see it? I never made a big deal about having money. I never bragged about myself or put her down for being poor. I wouldn’t do that to anybody—especially to my best friend!
Confused and hurt, Sydney stared at the greasy duffel bag. “You’re wrong about one thing,” she murmured. “I do know what it’s like to want things I can’t have. My parents don’t give me everything I want, you know.”
“Oh? Didn’t you want a car for your birthday?” Emma asked. “And didn’t they give you one?”
“Yes. But I have to pay the insurance on it,” Sydney pointed out. “Mom and Dad don’t want me to get spoiled, and they keep me on a really tight budget. There are plenty of things I’d like to buy with this money.”
“So let’s keep it!” Emma cried. “What’s stopping us?”
Sydney bit her lip. She had to admit, it was tempting. But scary, too.
“We don’t know where it came from,” she said. “The police might be looking for it Or whoever left it here. If we suddenly go on a major shopping binge, and they find out, we could be in major trouble.”
Emma thought for a minute. “Okay—here’s what we’ll do. We won’t spend it for a while. We’ll hide it someplace and wait and see if there’s anything about it on the news.”
“And if there is, we turn it in—right?” Sydney asked.
“Yeah. But if there isn’t …” Emma grinned. “Then it’s all ours.”
Sydney let out a nervous laugh. She couldn’t believe she was actually agreeing to this!
“Where should we hide it?” Emma asked. “Your place? You have that huge attic.”
“No! I don’t want it in my house,” Sydney protested. “I’d be too scared.”
“Well, I don’t want it at mine, either,” Emma said. “Okay, help me think of a good place. Someplace nobody would think of but us.”
“How about the old willow tree?” Sydney suggested. “The one in the Fear Street Woods where we used to meet and have picnics and stuff.”
“Perfect!” Emma agreed. “We can bury it under the tree. Nobody will ever know. Then we’ll just hang out for a couple of weeks until we’re sure it’s safe to dig it up.”
Sydney glanced around. Daylight was fading fast. The shadowy alley had grown even darker. She shivered and rubbed her arms. “Let’s get out of here.”
“Right.” Emma rose and picked up the duffel bag. “Can you drive us to the woods?”
“Sure. Let’s just do it, okay?”
As they started out of the alley, Sydney turned and glanced back. It’s not too late, she thought. Take the bag and throw it back in the Dumpster. Let somebody else find it.
“Come on, Syd!” Emma urged, giggling with excitement. “Hurry!”
Sydney paused for a second longer. Then, taking a deep breath, she followed her friend out of the alley.
“There it is!” Emma cried, pointing.
Sydney gazed along the path that wound through the Fear Street Woods.
Several yards ahead stood an enormous willow tree. Its lower branches drooped to the ground, forming a pale-green curtain.
We used to sit under there and tell secrets, Sydney thought. It was the perfect hideaway. Now it’s going to hide our biggest secret ever.
Carrying the folding snow shovel from her car trunk, Sydney followed Emma along the muddy path toward the tree.
“The ground is soft,” Emma declared as she pulled aside some branches and ducked under. “It’ll be easy to dig. I’ll go first.” She set the bag down and took the shovel from Sydney. She’s so excited, Sydney thought. All she talked about on the way here was the stuff she can buy with the money. Her mom’s operation. A CD player. Lots of clothes. She’s too excited to be scared.
Sydney glanced through the curtain of willow branches. Fear Lake wasn’t far from here. She could hear the water lapping at the shore, but she couldn’t see it. The Fear Street Woods were tangled and overgrown. And dark.
Sydney shivered. She wished she’d never thought of bringing the money here.
She reached for the shovel. “I’ll dig now.” She jammed it into the hole Emma had started and began shoveling. Before long, the hole was about two feet deep.
Emma lowered the bag inside, and Sydney quickly scraped the dirt back over it. Emma set a sand-colored stone on top as a marker, then brushed the dirt off her hands.
“Two weeks,” she said with a satisfied smile. “If nothing happens, we’ll come back and get it in two weeks.”
“Okay. But let’s go now,” Sydney urged, folding up the shovel. “These woods are creeping me out.”
As they started back to the car, Sydney suddenly stopped and grabbed Emma’s arm. “Wait!” she whispered. “Did you hear that?”
“I’m not sure.” Sydney held her breath, listening.
A twig snapped. Leaves rustled. The sounds came from behind them.
Emma’s eyes widened in fear as another twig cracked. Closer now.
Sydney’s heart pounded in her ears. Did somebody see us bury that bag? Maybe somebody followed us from the alley.
Leaves rustled again. Louder. Closer.
Grasping in fear, Sydney turned to look.