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him—he felt like every secret he’d ever had was being scanned by those golden orbs. By the time he broke eye contact with Tanner (and he was definitely the one who broke eye contact) he felt as if he’d been weighed, measured, probed, found lacking and cast aside. He was certain nothing could be more unnerving until he saw Tanner’s gaze drift and settle on his mother with the same intensity.
    Before Jar had a chance to evaluate Griffin Tanner’s interest in his mother, Junction’s Chief of police, Horace Buckner, crossed the 2x4s laid across the mud and approached Jar, Suzy and Barry. He stood over them, his large girth silhouetted by the spotlight above and rubbed his hand along the stubble under his chin like a worried actor trying to get his lines right.
    He cast a look toward the mayor and several councilmen who had joined the growing crowd at Flatrock Bridge, cleared his throat and said in a gruff voice intended to intimidate, “Let’s cut to the chase here kids. We all know the Casteel kid has a reputation for playing pranks. Now, I don’t think any of you want to be a party to costing the city tens of thousands of dollars on a rescue operation if Luke’s not really in the pipe.”
    Jar wasn’t one to buck authority, he’d been raised to say yes Ma’am and no Ma’am but he was exhausted, and he was afraid. He said, “We saw him crawl in the pipe.” As an afterthought he added, “Sir.”
    Chief Buckner rocked back onto his heels, jotted something down in his notepad, and rocked forward again. The three of them had coined him, “Rocking Horace,” after the first interview. Jar waited through this motion until the Chief asked his next question.“And why’d he go in there again?”
    They’d been over it. All of it. Jar fought back the urge to shout but he couldn’t keep the edge out of his voice. He said, “We told you. He went in after a baseball.”
    Chief Buckner stopped his rocking motion and leaned over the kids casting his shadow over them all. “Now you see, that there don’t make sense to me. He goes in after a ball, maybe he crawls two feet, maybe four. He doesn’t find the ball. It’s dark. It’s dirty. And as tough as a boy may be, it’s a little scary in there. Why go to all that trouble when you can go to any Windixie and get a ball for a dollar ninety-five?”
    Jar and Suzy exchanged a glance. The truth wasn’t for them to tell. Griffin Tanner stood within hearing distance and if he was going to find out about the missing Carlton Fisk ball, it would have to come from Barry.
    Rocking Horace finished his thoughts on the situation. “You know what I think? I think this here is a case of the boy who cried wolf. Luke Casteel isn’t in that hole. The fire department hasn’t found doodah and it’ll be a cold day in hell before I let the county engineers come in here and tear down Flatrock Bridge looking for a boy who isn’t lost.”
    Jar’s mother came up behind Chief Buckner right as he made his last statement. She said, “People have a way of disappearing around here and never being found, don’t they Horace?” She held out her hand in a protective gesture, and Jar came to her. She pulled him close to her side.
    Horace chaffed at the use of his first name in front of the kids but turned and offered a more civil tone than he had been using. “Come on Beth, let’s not start that again.”
    “No, let’s not.” Her voice was soft but firm. “And let’s not treat these kids like they’re criminals. If Jared says he went in there, then the boy went in there, even if it isn’t convenient for the Mayor and the city council.”
    Chief Rocking Horace flipped his notepad shut and shoved it into his pocket. He said, “I’m not through questioning them kids.”
    Beth said, “We’re not exactly a flight risk. You know where we live.”
    Chief Buckner was just about to step away when Barry Tanner’s voice, not as cocky as usual, entered the conversation for the first time