Free Taking Terri Mueller by Norma Fox Mazer Page B

six.”
    â€œThere’s a new one. Rory Ross. Isn’t that sweet?”
    Terri smiled, a forced smile. She hardly heard anything Shaundra said. Had she made a bad mistake telling Shaundra her father’s secret? If the police found out, they would come for him. She pushed aside the cold cheeseburger. The congealed meat spilling out of the bun looked like blood. Where was her father now? Home? With Nancy? Doing their shopping? It didn’t matter. If the police wanted him, they’d find him. She had told Shaundra too much. Shaundra’s father was a policeman.
    What if Shaundra said to him, Pop, I have a friend who thinks her father killed someone a long time ago . And what if Shaundra’s father, the detective father, said, This sounds like an interesting case . . . and came with a gun and handcuffs . . .
    â€œDaddy.” Her lips silently formed the word. Daddy, you’re right, I don’t have to know . . . whatever you did, keep the secret. Don’t tell me. I don’t care. Let’s just go, let’s leave this town, let’s go right now so they won’t ever find you . . .
    â€œTerri. Terri?” Shaundra shook her arm. “What’s the matter ?”
    â€œI was just . . .” Her palms were soaked. “I was just thinking . . . Shaundra, you won’t ever say anything about my father to anyone?”
    â€œI told you I wouldn’t, Terri.”
    â€œNot anyone?”
    â€œI won’t. I promise you. I won’t! Please don’t feel so bad. Maybe it’s not what you said at all. You know, you said yourself your father couldn’t hurt anyone.” She put her hand over Terri’s and Terri felt comforted for the moment, and close to her friend.

EIGHT
    â€œOkay, class,” Mr. Higgens said, “settle down.” Tall, gaunt, with strings of wispy hair plastered to his skull, he was Terri’s favorite teacher. “I hope you have all come prepared to write an article for our newspaper. Remember, the paper we’re going to put together in the next couple weeks will include everything covered by a regular newspaper. Features, sports stories, cartoons, plenty of columns. Who’s going to be our Ann Landers? Volunteers? No? Lizbet?” He grinned fiercely at a big blonde girl sitting near the window. “We’ll call it Dear Lizbet.”
    â€œNot me,” Lizbet said, reddening.
    â€œWe’re going to put out a newspaper,” Mr. Higgens went on, unperturbed, “and it’s going to be interesting. Nothing boring for us. Our articles are going to be written with verve, style, and wit. Everybody ready to be witty and stylish? Not to speak of vervish?”
    Terri laughed along with everyone else, enjoying Mr. Higgens’ performance. He rubbed his hands together. “Now, to sell this paper, what we really need is a nice juicy murder story on page one to grab our readers.”
    Terri’s enjoyment vanished abruptly. For a few momentsshe had managed to forget about her father. Now it all came back. A feeling of frustration and nothingness swept over her. She sat up rigidly. She had to think, not drown in a sea of self-pity. This morning, Shaundra had said, “Grown-ups want you to turn off your mind. Thirteen? So what? They think thirteen is still sucking your thumb.”
    At home, Terri’s father acted as he always did . . . but, perhaps, not exactly. She’d caught him looking at her a bit more keenly than usual, almost measuring her. Was he wondering if she had followed orders? Forget it, Terri , he’d said.
    She doodled on notepaper, wrote “Daddy,” and next to it, “Terri,” then cartooned a little tyke clutching at her father’s knee with an amiable grin. “I am your typical good little girl,” she wrote in a balloon over the little tyke’s head. Then, a few strokes of the pencil and the little tyke’s grin turned a shade evil. The little tyke was