Free Megan's Island by Willo Davis Roberts Page B

about twenty minutes.”
    As soon as they were out of earshot, Megan spoke. “I don’t like the idea of some guy who says he’s our uncle asking for us in town.”
    â€œWe don’t have an uncle, so he must be looking for somebody else,” Sandy said, trotting to keep up with her.
    â€œOr he’s looking for us and he’s lying about being our uncle because he thinks that will make people more willing to tell him where we are. We haven’t been to town yet, so probably nobody knows we’re here. But how many redheaded kids are there likely to be that the grocery man wouldn’t know?”
    â€œYou think he really is looking for us?” Sandy had sobered. “What for?”
    â€œWho knows? If he has to lie to find us, though, it’s kind of suspicious, isn’t it?”
    â€œHow would he know we’re here? Unless Mom told him.”
    â€œIf she told him, she’d have told him we were with Grandpa. And it didn’t sound as if he mentioned our names, even. Just said he was looking for redheads. Our last name’s not the same as Grandpa’s, so probably the postmaster wouldn’t know where we were, either. Not unless Grandpa told him we were coming, and he wasn’t expecting us for another week or so.”
    Megan had to slow down because her furious pace had caused her to get a stitch in her side. “It makes me nervous, after the other things that have happened,” she said.
    â€œAre we going to tell Grandpa about it?”
    â€œI don’t know. Maybe. We’ll think about it,” Megan said uneasily.
    They had reached the main road, and Sandy pulled open the door of the mailbox. “Two bills, and an ad for the general store in town, and . . . hey! You got a letter from Annie!”
    Megan snatched the letter out of his hand. A letter from Annie! Annie hadn’t been so mad at her that she refused to write back! She tore it open, but before she could empty the envelope, Sandy tugged at her arm.
    â€œCome on, you can read it after we get home. It’s too long to read in a minute or two, and I’m starved. Gramps said to come right home.”
    Megan hesitated, then folded the letter and put it into the pocket of her jeans. “Okay. I want to read it slowly and enjoy it longer, anyway,” she said.
    It never occurred to her that the letter would leave her even more scared than she already was.

Chapter Nine
    There was no opportunity to read Annie’s letter until after the supper dishes had been washed and put away. Megan listened halfheartedly to the news on the radio, which was the usual sort of thing that didn’t interest her very much: reports on a city council meeting, a governor’s conference, a high speed police chase that ended in a crash, the death of some supposedly prominent person she’d never heard of.
    Would it be on the radio if her mother got hurt or killed in a car crash?
    It was a horrid thought—which just sprang into her mind—and Megan couldn’t put it aside. What if something did happen to Karen Collier while she was away, and nobody even knew where to find her children or her father to tell them?
    Megan put the last glass into the cupboard and headed for her tiny bedroom, glancing guiltily at the door when the letter crackled as she drew it out of her pocket. She wasn’t quite sure why she felt guilty about writing to Annie, but she had an uncomfortable feeling that Grandpa might not approve.
    She flopped across the bed and unfolded the pages, eager to see what her friend had to say.
    Dear Megan:
    I was so glad to hear from you. It was very upsetting when you moved away without telling me. I knew your mother must have made you go, that it wasn’t your fault, but I’m really disappointed that we won’t be together at the lake.
    I guess, from the postmark on your letter, that you did go to the cottage where your grandpa was staying. I’m