A Race Against Time by Carolyn Keene

Author:Carolyn Keene [keene, carolyn]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Juvenile Fiction, Mysteries & Detective Stories, General, Girls & Women, Action & Adventure
ISBN: 9781442459434
Publisher: Simon and Schuster
Published: 2012-04-24T05:00:00+00:00

Feathering My Brakes

I rode the straight chute back to town, cutting across lawns and through alleys. It was only a few miles that way. I headed for downtown and the finish line, at the intersection of Highland Boulevard and Main Street.

I briefly considered stopping off at home to change clothes, because I didn’t want to attract too much attention to myself. I’ve lived in River Heights all my life, and a lot of people here know me for one reason or another. Even people who didn’t know me would notice someone riding around town in race clothes on race day. I didn’t want anyone to know that I had dropped out of the race—mainly because I didn’t want anyone to know why.

Just then I remembered that Bess had packed my sweater and jeans in the panniers—so I decided to ride over to Dad’s office downtown to freshen up instead of going all the way home.

I biked from the edge of town to Highland Boulevard. My dad’s law office is on Highland. Sometimes it’s open on Saturday, but that day it was closed because of the race, and because Dad was out of town.

I had my own key, of course. I unlocked the back door and took my bike inside. I spent a few minutes washing up. I left my racing clothes on, but pulled my jeans and sweater over them. I was a little warm, but a bit of sweat never hurt anyone.

Grabbing my backpack, I locked up Dad’s office, and left. I walked up Highland to the corner at Main Street. This was not only the start and finish line for Biking for Bucks, it was also where Mr. Holman had shown us the pledge money in the safe.

At first I hung out casually near the minipark, pretending to read the paper in the newsbox, but really watching the activity in front of the bank across the street. A few people walked around, but not many. Most of the shops were closed because of the race. With the streets blocked off, there wasn’t much point in stores being open.

I wanted to check out the area around the start and finish line, but that was impossible. Two uniformed police officers and at least three recognizable detectives in plain clothes were still looking for clues around the makeshift stage and bleachers that had been constructed for the weekend. Clearly, neither the money nor the thief had been found yet.

I crossed the street and walked past the bank. I wasn’t surprised to find that it was closed. It would have been even if there hadn’t been a theft, because it always closes at noon on Saturday, and it was already three o’clock.

No one seemed to recognize me or pay any attention to me. I strolled past the bank and looked in the window. There was a lot of activity inside. Tellers counted money in drawers, and officers questioned security guards. Others just sat, checking papers, which I guessed were probably lists of pledges—pledges of money that had vanished.

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