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“The others are worth anywhere from $10 to maybe $20,000.” He nodded toward one of the males. “I’m not sure I should tell you how much Max is worth.”

  “Please?” Bryce said.

  “One of his brothers—and he doesn’t have as nice a coat as Max—sold at auction a few weeks ago for $375,000.”

  Bryce and I just stood there with our mouths hanging open. Finally Bryce snickered. “Proves guys are a lot more valuable than girls.”

  Mr. Morris said they were so valuable because there weren’t that many in America. “Ours come from Bolivia. They’re some of the finest in the world, so it pays to have a pure bloodline.”

  Mr. Morris showed us how to lead the alpacas out of the barn, clean the stalls, put fresh water in the troughs, and prepare their food. Then he showed us how to bring them back in at night, which he said they’d pretty much do themselves. Whitney stood in the corner of her stall, pacing as she watched.

  “I need to go get ready for church,” Mr. Morris said. “Stay as long as you like.”

  I wandered into the field while Bryce poked around in the barn. Samson stuck his head across the top of the fence, sniffed, and grunted. The females didn’t seem to notice.

  Buck loped up beside me and sat, his tongue lolling. I patted his head. He bristled and growled as a rattletrap car passed the driveway. It slowed and I tried to see inside, but I couldn’t.

  Chapter 28

  Most of the houses that had been burgled were different. Only one had an electronic alarm. Some had kids living there (who could have talked with friends about going away), but Mrs. Watson and the other elderly lady who lost jewelry hadn’t.

  How had anyone found out that Mrs. Watson was going away? She was such a loner. If I was going to find Mrs. Watson’s jewelry, I had to figure that out—and fast.

  I wrote:

  Delivery people

  Police

  Church people

  Neighbors/acquaintances

  Mr. Krenshaw

  I called Mrs. Watson. She sounded weak. Before I could even ask anything, she told me Mr. Krenshaw had come to her house.

  “His son told him what had happened—I guess he heard from you, Bryce. I think he feels worse about the stolen items than I do. He said he’d do anything to help get them back and that he was sorry he hadn’t taken better care of my place.”

  I circled Mr. Krenshaw’s name. If he was guilty, would he do this? Was he trying to look innocent, or was he innocent?

  I asked her again if she might have told anyone she was going to be gone.

  “No. Like I told the police, I don’t publicize my trips.”

  Chapter 29

  It was hard to go back to school. I kept telling myself there were only four days left and that I’d be taking care of alpacas soon. The class I dreaded most was band. The thought of it curled my stomach. I saw Hayley in the hall before class and took her hand.

  “I need some help in here,” I said.

  “You and me both.”

  Liz and Denise were sitting in the first two chairs, like it was territory they had staked out a hundred years ago. Instead of making a scene, I sat in the third, next to Hayley.

  There was whispering as Mr. Scarberry greeted the sections. He paused at the flutes, then continued to his desk. “You all have a good time Friday?” he called out.

  People groaned.

  “Aw, come on. It was better than that, wasn’t it?”

  “We didn’t get to throw you in the pool,” somebody said.

  “Yeah, isn’t that a tradition?” Duncan said.

  “Maybe next year,” Mr. Scarberry said. “Music out, please, and will the flutists please sit in their correct chairs?”

  My face was hot. Did he have to do this?

  “Now!”

  “You’re dead,” Liz said, as the three of us clumsily moved.

  After class, Mr. Scarberry stopped Hayley and me. “How do you two feel about Friday?”

  “Like we caused everybody a lot of trouble,” Hayley said, “but it really wasn’t our fault.”

  Mr. Scarberry nodded. “You should have stayed together, but I agree. There’s more going on here, and I hope to get to the bottom of it.”

  “What did that mean?” Hayley said as we walked into the hall.

  I shrugged, then caught my breath as I saw Liz and Denise in front of my locker.

  “Timberline,” Denise said, sneering, “saw you at the farm yesterday.”

  “Yeah,” I said. “So?”

  “You watching the herd while the Morrises are away?”

  “Why?”

  “They asked me first, but I don’t need a job.” She leaned close. “Be careful. A bear or a coyote could snatch one of those little ones right out from under your nose. Then how would you feel?”

  I clenched my fists and gritted my teeth. “Don’t you dare threaten me, Denise! And don’t you dare threaten those animals!”

  Denise stepped back as if caught off guard, then seemed to recover. She smiled impishly. “Just be careful, that’s all.”

  “Way to go, Ash!” Hayley whispered as they walked away. “You actually yelled.”

  I opened my locker and saw my WWJD sticker on the back of the door. Would Jesus have yelled at them?

  After what he did to the money changers in the temple, I wasn’t so sure. I didn’t know how I was supposed to feel.

  Chapter 30

  After school I stopped in to see Mrs. Watson. Peanuts barked his head off when I knocked and was still barking when Mrs. Watson opened the door. She was in her robe, looked pale, like she’d been inside for three weeks, and had bags under her eyes. I was used to seeing her working in her garden in a big, floppy hat, so this was weird.

  “Come on in, Bryce honey,” she said. “Let me get you a snack.”

  Mrs. Watson’s snacks are legendary. At Halloween her place is everyone’s favorite.

  She poured me a glass of milk, then took several cookies from a Ziploc bag and put them in the microwave.

  “You feeling okay?” I said.

  She ran her hand lightly across the tablecloth. “Just my old bones giving out. I’ll be all right.”

  I dipped a cookie into the milk. The chocolate was still warm and left swirls in the milk. “About last week. Are you sure you couldn’t have said something to someone at the grocery store, to one of the neighborhood kids, maybe the mailman?”

  “I’ve been over this with the police and you, Bryce.”

  “I know, and I’m sorry, but—”

  The phone rang. When Mrs. Watson answered it in the living room, I noticed a calendar on a small desk in the corner. One day said carpets cleaned, and another said pharmacy refill. Two days before she had left on her trip a note said oil change. It had a check mark beside it.

  I finished my last cookie and headed toward the front door.

  “It’s my brother,” she said, covering the phone. “Talk to you later.”

  “Thanks for the cookies,” I whispered.

  Chapter 31

  When I got home Leigh was on the front porch looking through the newspaper for a used car. She didn’t have any money, but it doesn’t hurt to dream.

  I was surprised when she said, “What’s wrong with you?”

  “Nothing.”

  “Boyfriend trouble?”

  “I wish,” I said.

  Leigh hadn’t been the most excited person in the world when Mom, Bryce, Dylan, and I moved in, and she was even less thrilled when we became Christians. So I’d kept my distance, not wanting to be the needy stepsister.

  “You look like somebody just swallowed Frodo,” she said. “What’s up?”

  “Some girls in band are jerking me around.”

  “Band girls. Moved ahead of them, did you?”

  “Yeah.”

  “You want Randy to beat them up?”

  I couldn’t help smiling, thinking about Leigh’s boyfriend squaring off against Denise and Liz with his big muscles.

  “What’d they do?
” she said, putting the paper down.

  She cringed at the Happy Canyons part, and when I finished my story she shook her head. “Maybe you can get that dog at the alpaca farm to attack them.”

  “No, seriously. Any real ideas?”

  She bit her lip. “I’m not into the ‘turn the other cheek’ thing. I’d fight fire with fire. Go after them.”

  I sat. “Like how?”

  She shrugged. “Put alpaca poop in their backpacks. Something like that. Make their lives as miserable as they’ve made yours. That’ll stop them.”

  Chapter 32

  Instant Oil Change is the only oil-change place in town and it’s not far, so I left my ATV and walked. I put my backpack on the counter and was welcomed by a girl about Leigh’s age. She wore an Instant Oil uniform with Jan on her shirt. A jet-black ponytail stuck out the back of the hat she had pulled low. Her eyes were really pretty and made my stomach flutter.

  “Can I help you?” she said in a sweet, soft voice.

  “I-I-I was wondering . . . a friend of mine, Mrs. Watson, came by here last Wednesday. Y-y-you weren’t working, were you?”

  “I know Mrs. Watson.” She smiled a bright smile that could have been used on one of those teeth-whitening commercials. “Hang on.” She stepped through the garage door and hollered, “Pete, did you help Mrs. Watson last week?”

  When Jan returned she said, “Pete says we did her car the middle of last week.” She tapped on her computer and studied the screen. “Yeah, Wednesday. Why? Everything okay?”

  I don’t know why I get so nervous around girls. My palms sweat and my throat dries up. It’s the same feeling I get with pop quizzes. “I’m trying . . . to help her . . . her car . . . thing.”

  “Her car thing?” she said, clearly enjoying this.

  “Did she happen to tell anyone she was headed out of town?”

  Jan squinted. “Not me. I can check with Pete.”

  “Don’t bother him now. Just let me know if you find out.” I gave her my name and number.

  “What’s this about?” she said.

  “Some stuff of hers was taken while she was gone,” I said. “I’m trying to help her find it.”

  Jan’s eyes grew wide, and she pushed her hat back. “No kidding? Well, you’re awfully nice to help her.”

  I chuckled, but I was nervous and my laugh sounded weird. “I gotta go,” I said, heading for the door.

  When I got outside, I could finally breathe.

  “Excuse me?” someone said behind me. It was Jan, carrying my backpack. “You’ll probably need this.”

  “Yeah . . . thanks.”

  “Hey, you’re not implying that anybody here knew Mrs. Watson was going to be gone and—”

  “Oh no. I’m just looking for any clues I can find.”

  “Well, tell Mrs. Watson Jan said hi.”

  Chapter 33

  Leigh gave me some deliciously devious ideas. I went upstairs and pulled out my diary. I lit my scented candle and started in on my plan to get back at Denise and Liz. I still had three days to make their lives as miserable as they’d made mine.

  1. Liz and Denise walk under a door with a bucket balanced on top.

  2. Liz and Denise sit on glue in chairs in band room.

  I was coming up with my third idea, something involving the lunch room, ketchup, and mayonnaise, when I thought again about the sticker in my locker. Is this what Jesus would do?

  If my goal was to act like Jesus, I couldn’t try to get revenge.

  But they need to be taught a lesson.

  I wrote: Jesus never had band with Liz and Denise. And his dad never got killed by terrorists.

  I opened my Bible and looked for 20 minutes for where it says Jesus experienced every temptation we have. I finally found it in Hebrews. It was just after where it says that God’s word is sharp like a knife and cuts into our inner thoughts and desires.

  Nothing in all creation is hidden from God. Everything is naked and exposed before his eyes, and he is the one to whom we are accountable. So then, since we have a great High Priest who has entered heaven, Jesus the Son of God, let us hold firmly to what we believe. This High Priest of ours understands our weaknesses, for he faced all of the same testings we do, yet he did not sin. So let us come boldly to the throne of our gracious God. There we will receive his mercy, and we will find grace to help us when we need it most.

  Jesus must have been tempted to lash out at people who were unkind to him. He must have been frustrated that his family and even his own disciples mostly didn’t understand who he really was.

  I wrote:

  God, I need to understand how to act toward Liz and Denise. If you’re going to use me to show them your love, you have a lot of work to do, starting with me.

  Chapter 34

  Before school the next day I stopped at Mrs. Watson’s. She’s usually there to wave at Ashley and me, but I figured she was still sick. Her car wasn’t in the driveway either, which was odd.

  I knocked and heard something strange. Silence. Not even Peanuts barking. What if the robbers had come back? What if she was in there right now, bleeding, and I was her only hope?

  Maybe the police had called and found her things. Or maybe she had gone to visit her brother again.

  She never answered the door. I thought about calling the police but decided to check back during lunch.

  Chapter 35

  I walked into school determined to be the best Christian ever—until, that is, I noticed a sign taped to my locker: “Ashley is a log head.”

  A hand reached out and tore it down. It was Skeeter Messler, and he had several other pieces of paper under his arm. The top one read: “Ashley is a spaz. Take your medicine!”

  “Sorry you had to see these,” Skeeter said. “Don’t pay any attention to them. Just dumb people trying to have fun, I guess.”

  I passed Mr. Forster, our principal, as I headed to band class. He held wadded-up paper in his hands. “Ashley, do you know anything about these notes with your name on them?”

  “No, sir,” I said. “I just saw a couple of them myself.”

  He frowned. “I heard what happened at Happy Canyons Friday. Meet me in my office after lunch.”

  Chapter 36

  I was relieved to see Mrs. Watson’s car in her driveway at lunch. Peanuts barked and scratched on the door when I knocked. Finally, Mrs. Watson invited me in. “I was worried when you weren’t here this morning,” I said.

  “Oh,” she said weakly, looking no better than the last time I had seen her. “Had to drive to the Springs to find a pharmacy open that early. You hungry? Can I get you some lunch?”

  I wished I hadn’t eaten my sandwich on the way. “No, thank you.” I told her about Jan saying hello and she smiled.

  “I’ve known her since she was just a little thing. Makes a nice-looking grease monkey, don’t you think?”

  I nodded.

  “What took you there, anyway?” she said.

  I told her.

  “Well, you’re becoming quite the detective, but I don’t know how many times I have to tell you that I didn’t tell anyone I would be gone.”

  “Did you take your car anywhere else before the trip?”

  She put a hand to her chin and looked at the ceiling. “Not that I recall. Just the grocery store and the gas station. The library.”

  “When you get your oil changed, do you leave the keys in the car?”

  “Mm-hm. I usually sit in the waiting room, but last week I went to the coffee shop. Why?”

  “Just trying to figure this out.”

  Chapter 37

  I couldn’t eat—my stomach was doing so many flips and flops.

  Hayley said, “Don’t worry. Mr. Forster will get those girls for what they did.”

  I felt as if I were dragging myself all the way to his office. His secretary must have been at lunch, because the outer office was empty. I tapped lightly on his door.

  “Come in,” he said.

  I pushed t
he door open, and there were Liz and Denise in chairs by his desk. A third chair sat empty. It was all I could do to keep from running.

  “Have a seat, Ashley,” Principal Forster said.

  I pulled the chair a few inches away from the girls. They attempted a couple of pretty weak smiles, which I couldn’t make myself return. I felt like a coward, but I wasn’t about to be phony. I wished Mr. Forster had told me they were going to be here, but then I realized I would have worried about it the whole day.

  “Well,” Mr. Forster said in an upbeat tone, “let’s get down to business. Liz, Denise, what do you have to say for yourselves?”

  “About what?” Liz said.

  Denise nodded. “We didn’t do anything.”

  “About the unkind posters on the lockers and the walls?”

  “What makes you think we did that?” Liz said.

  Mr. Foster put his fingertips together. “Well, I was at the concert the other night and noticed the shabby start. Mr. Scarberry told me what happened and then described what went on Friday at Happy Canyons. It’s obvious you two and Ashley have had your troubles.”

  “I wouldn’t say that,” Denise said, her voice dripping with sweetness. “Kids have disagreements all the time, and you know how competitive band can be.” She leaned forward. “Surely you don’t get involved in every little dispute.”

  Mr. Forster stared at her, resting his chin in his hand. “No, but I wouldn’t characterize this as a little dispute. What happened at Happy Canyons was dangerous. And those posters represent a threat to one of my students.”

  “She started it,” Liz said.

  Denise gave Liz a look and she fell silent.

  We all glanced at each other, then at anything but each other. It made me want to laugh, which wouldn’t have been a good idea.

  “Mr. Forster,” I said finally, “can the three of us have a minute?”

  He raised his eyebrows and stood. “Maybe that’s a good idea.”