Chapter 10

 

Sara Cook sat at the kitchen counter, her history book open in front of her. Who cared who-all signed the Declaration of Independence? Sheesh. Of everyone on earth, this could only be important to Mr. Iverson. She’d rather be taking a test tomorrow on something that would actually help her out in life—like how to make her mom never have cancer.

Matt was making a peanut butter sandwich. One. For himself.

“Hey, how about one of those for me, too?”

He looked at her as if she was speaking French (another useless school subject, in Sara’s opinion).

“Sandwich? For your sister?”

“Please …” he taunted.

“Okay, please …”

He reached for the bread and she noticed he’d not bothered to put the twisty thing back on the wrapper. No wonder bread around here was always dried out by the time she got any. He slapped two slices down on the counter and dipped the knife he’d already licked back into the peanut butter jar. She cringed but it wasn’t worth the argument.

He’d covered about half the slice when his phone rang. Matt jammed the knife back into the jar and pulled the phone from his pocket. He scowled at the readout and said, “Yeah.”

Sara heard a male voice at the other end. Most likely Wolfe, Matt’s best buddy and the only one who ever phoned her jerky brother. Matt noticed she was watching. He abandoned the sandwich project and stalked away to his bedroom, giving the door a shove. Sara noticed it didn’t latch closed. When Matt’s voice dropped she simply slid off her stool and tiptoed over there for a listen.

What could be so secretive between him and Wolfe Hanson? They’d known each other since she was six, and Sara had probably heard every secret conversation the boys ever conducted. Wolfe might as well be their other brother.

“What do you mean—missing?” Matt said, forgetting for a minute to keep his voice low.

More chatter from Wolfe’s end of the call.

“Yeah, well, Kurt’s not my boss.” Then quieter. “Really? What’d he say?”

Quiet for a full two minutes. Sara began to think they’d hung up when Matt spoke again.

“Your uncle’s house is empty? I never knew that.” He seemed intrigued. “Nobody, huh? Yeah, tell Kurt about it. Maybe he’ll chill out a little.”

Hmm. Sara wondered what that was all about. And who was this Kurt guy?

She heard Matt’s bedsprings squeak. A peek through the opening showed he was standing now, pacing the far side of the room by his bureau. He took something from the top drawer, turned around and heaved himself back onto the bed.

She was going to mention the squeaky bed one of these days. Matt thought he was so damn sophisticated, bringing girls here sometimes when Mom was at her chemo appointments. His door would be closed tight but the bed squeaked like crazy. Sara hadn’t actually done that yet, but she sure knew what it was about. Dweeb. What did he think?

She realized everything had gone quiet. Did he know she’d been listening. Her socks padded across the hall carpet and she practically leaped the last few feet to the kitchen, where she picked up the gooey knife and finished making her own sandwich. She spotted the folded newspaper she’d tucked near the breadbox yesterday and pulled it out.

Again, she wondered about the woman driver who had been injured in the robbery. And the cash. What if—? Nah. But if she’d kept a few of those hundred-dollar bills she’d found, she wouldn’t be eating peanut butter right now.

“What are you doing!” Matt snatched the newspaper away.

She stared up at him. “Eating my sandwich, jerk-face. Trying to finish my homework.”

“Like hell. You were listening to me and Wolfe talking. I saw how you sneaked my door open.”

“Did not! You didn’t close it good.” Oops, shouldn’t have admitted I even noticed it.

Mom’s voice came from the other bedroom. “Matthew? Sara? Are you both home now?”

“You just mind your own business,” he hissed. He grabbed his sandwich, resting it on the folded newspaper, and headed for his room.

Sara got up and went to her mother. “Yeah, Mom. We’re both home. Can I bring you some more of that soup I made you for lunch?” Campbell’s chicken noodle—not exactly homemade.

“That’s okay, honey. I’m not real hungry right now.” She reached a very thin hand up and took Sara’s. “Just wanted to be sure both my kids are safe and sound for the night. I think I’ll just go back to sleep now.”

Sara gently closed the door so her mother could rest. Tomorrow was another chemo day. Matt would drive Mom there and Sara would walk to the clinic after school and stay until he came back to pick them up. For now, she’d better finish studying for her useless history exam.

When she passed Matt’s door she debated trying to talk to him, to find out what had agitated him so much just now with Wolfe’s call. But the door was closed tightly this time. She thought she could hear Matt’s voice again, but this time he’d turned on his TV to cover his conversation.

What the hell was going on with him?