“Monday? But wait!” I scrambled over down the rock wall after him, banging my knee. “Who are these guys? How am I supposed to plan something this big by Monday? I mean, we can’t just waltz in there and say, ‘Hi, this is from that dead girl.’ I might not get to see life outside of bars again.”

Khail didn’t even slow his step. “That’s the deal,” he said brusquely. “I provide the manpower and the truck. You come up with a plan, smart-ass. Work with me, get this done, or Sera is off-limits until you patch things up on your own.” He turned to fix me with a glare. “You understand what I’m saying?”

I hesitated, but what choice did I have? Besides, it would go way faster this way. “Tomorrow at noon,” I agreed.

And with a squeal of tires, he was gone.

I slid into the car beside Kimberlee and started the engine. We were almost out of her cul-de-sac before she spoke.

“Well?”

“Well, what?”

“What happened? You were in there a long time.”

“He came, he saw, he offered to help.”

“He offered to help?”

“Did I stutter?”

She sat back in her seat again, her face full of confusion. “It’s a trick. He’ll get you caught,” she finally concluded.

“I don’t think it is.”

“Trust me. He hates me.”

“That’s why he wants to help, actually. Get you out of here so he doesn’t have to live in the same world as you anymore.”

“That was real sensitive,” she muttered.

“Look, it will take me months to get through all that stuff in there on my own, and I’ll probably get caught before it’s all gone. Do you want to move on, or whatever, or don’t you?”

“Of course I do,” she said in a tone that didn’t quite have me convinced.

“Then this is the best way to go. Khail is going to meet me tomorrow with a bunch of guys and—”

“A bunch of guys? You are begging to get caught. People around here cannot keep secrets, Jeff. This is all going to blow up in your face.”

“Maybe it is, but what choice do I have? I can’t do this alone and I’m not going to try anymore.” I hesitated before adding, under my breath, “And it’s not like you can stop me anyway.”

“Me getting stuck with you is so unfair,” she responded.

“So true.”

Seventeen

I GOT TO PERENNIAL PARK a full fifteen minutes before noon the next day. I’d convinced Kimberlee to stay home this time. For real. I didn’t want her chattering in my ear while I was trying to concentrate. I couldn’t help but feel like something big was about to happen. That, or I was about to get caught and expelled, and go down on record as having the shortest enrollment in Whitestone ever. Either way, I didn’t want any distractions.

It didn’t take long before cars started pulling up. A bunch of guys, most of them built like Khail, got out and leaned against their vehicles. Finally Khail’s big black truck rolled in and the guys headed toward it like homing missiles. Khail stepped out and his eyes locked immediately with mine. He gestured to the group and they all walked over to me; there must have been about fifteen of them. For the first time, I felt confident.

This might actually work.

“Jeff,” Khail said, walking up with a box under his arm, “meet the varsity wrestling team. Team? Jeff.” He rattled off a bunch of names, but I hoped he didn’t expect me to remember any of them.

We wandered over to a pavilion with a bunch of picnic tables under it and Khail set the box down as everyone else took a seat. When the team was settled, Khail reached in. “Stevens,” he barked, and one of the guys looked up right before a bag hit him in the chest. “Moore.” Another guy, another bag. Soon every wrestler but one had a bag. “Sorry, Sig,” Khail said, and I had a moment to briefly wonder if Sig was short for Sigfried or maybe Sigmund—what was wrong with parents out here? “I didn’t find one for you.”

I’d told Khail the code for the beach gate, but I hadn’t expected him to actually go back to the cave. I wondered how many hours he’d spent last night finding the bags for his teammates. I had clearly underestimated his commitment to this project.

Or maybe his hatred for Kimberlee.

The wrestlers started rooting in their bags, some pulling out one item, others two or three, with murmurs of surprise and even some laughter before one guy—the one Khail had called Moore—looked up at Khail and said, “What the hell is this?”

“This is all stuff that got stolen from you guys over the last few years,” Khail said.

“I can see that,” the guy replied, clearly not satisfied. “Why do you have it?”

Khail looked over at me. “Jeff was doing some cave exploration a couple weeks back—science geek,” he added, and the whole team nodded like that was explanation enough. “And he found a cave full of this stuff.”

“A cave?” another guy piped up.

“A cave,” Khail said firmly. “I’ve been there; I’ve seen it. You got a problem?”

The guy raised his hands in dismissal, but his face was still cloaked in disbelief.

“It’s full of tons of stuff,” Khail said, “like what I just gave you.” He stood a little taller. “I want to give it all back. Everyone deserves to have their belongings returned.”