Death at Devil's Bridge Read Online Free

anything more, I found myself calling, “Hey, Jeff, you in there?” I hadn’t known I was going to do it, and I was amazed to hear how steady my voice sounded, how normal, even though I felt as though a big diesel engine was roaring through my head and chest.
    There was a sudden hush from the garage, then Donny and Jeff stepped out. Jeff stared at the ground, but Donny looked right at me with narrowed eyes.
    â€œHow long have you been out here, Ben?” he asked. There was none of the usual fun or teasing in his expression.
    â€œNot long,” I answered quickly. “I heard you guys talking, so I was just coming—”
    Donny interrupted. “What’d you hear?”
    â€œNothing,” I said, holding up my empty hands as if to prove my innocence. I laughed, and to my own ears it sounded forced and phony. “Why? What’s the big deal?”

    Donny, too, was trying to act normal now, as if nothing out of the ordinary had happened. “No big deal,” he said, giving me a little grin. To Jeff he said, “He’s cool, right?”
    â€œYeah,” answered Jeff. “He’s cool.”
    Donny disappeared into the garage, and Jeff and I stood uncomfortably in the driveway. He still hadn’t met my eyes.
    â€œWhat was that all about?” I asked.
    â€œNothing,” he said, finally looking at me and giving a little shrug. “Donny was just messing around.”
    Jeff was lying to me; I couldn’t believe it. Jeff was the one friend I’d always thought I could count on to tell me the real scoop. After Mom started dating Barry and I was really mad about it, Jeff had had the guts to say that maybe Barry was good for my mom. I hadn’t wanted to hear it, but it sure made me think.
    I decided to give him another chance to tell me what the heck was going on. “What’s he doing in your garage?”
    â€œWorking on the Tomahawk,” Jeff answered. “He needed to borrow some of my dad’s tools.”
    I tried again. “Looks like you and Donny are big buddies all of a sudden. What do you guys talk about?”
    â€œNothing much.”
    Come off it, Jeff , I wanted to say. But I didn’t. I felt off-balance from what I’d heard, and from the strange way Jeff was acting. I just stood there, sure he’d be able to read my thoughts on my face, but all he said was, “So, you want to see the airplane I got for my birthday? I’ve almost got it put together, but I still have to get the remote control rigged up.”
    I hesitated. Maybe if we worked on the plane together it would feel like old times, and Jeff would confide in me about what was going on with Donny. “Sure,” I managed to say, and followed him inside, where Mr. and Mrs. Manning were watching television in the den.
    Somehow I managed to say hello and answer their friendly, interested questions about my first day mating for Chick. Then I followed Jeff up to his room. We sat down at the card table he’d set up in the middle of the room, where the plane’s assembly kit was spread out on sheets of waxed paper.
    Jeff immediately began gluing a few final little pieces, holding them in place with pins, and talking nonstop about all the plane’s special features. He was so into it that he didn’t seem to notice anything odd about my behavior. Maybe I wasn’t acting strange. But I sure felt weird.
    Finally I couldn’t stand it anymore. “Jeff,” I said, “I heard you and Donny talking.”

    His hands stopped moving, and he looked up from the table. “Yeah, I thought so,” he said with a little smile.
    â€œDid Donny push that car into the harbor?”
    Jeff looked at me. “What if he did?” he asked.
    â€œWell, for cripe’s sake, Jeff, did he? ” I knew, but for some reason I wanted to hear Jeff say it.
    â€œYeah,” Jeff said softly.
    â€œBut why?” I asked. “Is he crazy?”