CHAPTER 12

Steve was really pissed, all right, and it really showed in the way he was driving home. It still amazes me to this day that as fast as he was going, he never got pulled over or into an accident, for that matter. If Jeff Gordon had been in that SUV, you can bet your college tuition that he would've been hanging on for dear life.

The three of us kids were silent, and not just because we were terrified of how fast we were going, but also because we thought that just one little word would make Steve start yelling all over again.

Finally, as soon as we arrived at the house and Steve turned off the ignition, I managed to work up enough courage to ask, "How did you know where we were?" My voice was so soft I didn't know if there was any possible way that he could've heard me.

"Well, it's a pretty interesting story, really," Steve said, in the calmest, most reserved voice I'd ever heard him use, and looking straight ahead the whole time. In the back of my mind, however, I knew that this was just the calm before the storm that we'd created. "I was online earlier today when I noticed that I ws receiving--what's the word?--a signal from somone's cell phone. Imagine my surprise when I discovered where that signal was coming from."

It was obviously from my cell phone, and when he said that, I stared at him, my eyes and mouth wide open in horror. Then, my face darkened, and I turned to Alex, who not only told me that she'd turned it off, but she also wouldn't return it until we were done at the police station.

"I swear to God I turned it off, Jason," she whispered to me. "I checked everything three times while we were in the cab, probably more than that."

"What about the tracer?" I hissed. As soon as I asked that, the look on her face said, "Shit!"

"But that's not all," Steve continued, still sounding perfectly sane and rational while avoiding eye contact. "As soon as I got off the Internet, who should happen to come into the house but Alissa. I could tell that she wanted to get a few things off her chest, namely your whereabouts. And you want to know something else? Oh, you'll love this part: I think the last time I'd ever heard that little girl cry that much was on the day she was born."

I had to hand it to Steve. He was doing one hell of a good job maintaining his composure, but I was well aware that inside, he was furious. And then, before anything else happened, Alex spoke up. And boy, did she ever.

"It's not Jason's fault, Uncle Steve!" she wailed. "It was all my idea! I made him do it! He kept telling me no, but I wouldn't listen to him! I just wanted to do the right thing! I'm so sorry!" Then she buried her face into the back of the driver's seat and bawled her eyes out. I thought she was going to fall apart right then and there.

You know something? Steve didn't yell at her. In fact, he didn't say a word. Instead he got out of the car, opened Alex's door, and wrapped her up in a hug. She sobbed as she clung to him and pressed her forehead against his massive shoulder.

"I know you did, Alex," he said soothingly, petting her hair. "I'm sorry for yelling at you kids. Still, what you did was very wrong, and I don't ever, ever want you to scare me like that again. You hear me?"

Alex nodded and gave a deep, loud sniff. Steve reached into his pocket and gave her his handkerchief, then lifted her out of the car as she wiped away her tears and blew her nose.

Bebe and I followed her out of the car, and guess who we found? Doug. He was standing next to his bike, which was parked right in front of the steps. The last time I'd seen him, he'd made it perfectly clear that he didn't like me or anyone else. This time, however, he looked as meek as a lamb.

"Hi," he said tentatively. Bebe and I greeted him with the proper courtesy, but when Alex saw him, that was the last thing she was going to be.

"Alex--" Bebe began, but Alex wouldn't have any of it. Both of her fists were slowly clenching, and I knew what that meant. She was going to break this kid's nose.

"So, have you come to finish the job?" she snarled as she walked right up into Doug's face. "If you have, I've got a brand-new pair of white low-rise jeans upstairs in my closet that are just waiting to have holes cut into them. Or better yet, you can just throw them in front of a semi!"

I'd had it up to my ears with this whole thing. I clapped my hand very hard down on Alex's shoulder. "Back off," I ordered her as I pulled her away from Doug. "Right now."

"No," Doug answered. He had a really guilty look on his face. "Actually, I came here to apologize." Then, looking up at Steve, he added, "I'm the one that did this to your house, and I'm sorry."

"I'll bet you are," Alex muttered furiously.

"That's enough," Steve said sternly.

"Also," Doug went on, ignoring Alex, "do you mind if we go inside? There's something I need to talk to you about."

"Sure," Steve said. "Let's go on the porch."

"Okay, whatever," Doug agreed. It was a nice change to see this kid being calm and polite, as opposed to being either distant or confrontational, like he had been.