Turn Left at the Cow by Lisa Bullard Read Free Book Online

said, and walked away while I rubbed my arm and stared after her.

CHAPTER 7
    I debated just zooming right through town, considering I’d had more than my share of strangers staring at me, but the pancakes seemed to have disappeared years ago. So I got three burgers to go from the café. I was about to buy a soda from the vending machine outside the gas station, but then I got closer and realized what it was.
    Live bait. The machine actually sold live bait. What did it say about my life that I had willingly traded in California for a town where the vending machines sold worms?
    So I went into the gas station, got my cold caffeine fix, and then hit the road again, sucking it all down as I pedaled past the green-striped fields back to Gram’s. The church-basement smell of old ladies had cleared away and I was feeling pretty good. Until I saw Iz, sitting all folded around herself in Gram’s yard. My stomach did this major flip-flop, and for a minute I was afraid I was going to hurl, but then everything settled down. Guess they’re right that you should never drink and ride.
    I wasn’t sure if my guts were jumping because seeing Iz made me flash back to lying next to her on the raft the night before, or if it was because seeing her reminded me all over again about the bank-robber thing.
    â€œDid you ask your grandma if she still had any of your dad’s stuff so you could look through it?” She had this eager look on her face, so I squatted down and pretended to be really interested in some ants scurrying around a mega-anthill in the grass.
    â€œUh—didn’t get a chance yet,” I said.
    Iz sighed real loud. “But last night you said you would—”
    â€œHeads up!” I heard a voice yell. I looked up, grateful for the interruption, just in time to see a football arrowing directly for me. I barely managed to get my hands up to deflect it before it would have knocked me back. Kenny trotted over and looked at me sadly.
    â€œYou’re supposed to
grab
it, not hide from it.” He picked up the football, tossed it into the air, and caught it one-handed.
    Iz unfolded and stood up in one smooth motion, reaching out to try and snag the ball from him. “Island time—say bye-bye to your baby, Kenny.”
    Kenny grumbled and stuck out his lip like he was going to argue, but Iz fisted her hands on her hips and he finally set the football down with a little pat on its leathered side. I hoped he’d keep on moaning; in the process of prodding him along, Iz seemed to have forgotten my broken promise about talking to Gram. We walked around to the lake side of the house, over to Kenny’s dock, and loaded into his boat while Kenny continued to mumble under his breath.
    The island wasn’t that far out. We were halfway there, bouncing over seagull surf, when I realized something was missing. “No shovels?” I asked. “I thought the point of going out here was to dig for buried treasure.”
    Iz shook her head. “It’s like Kenny told you yesterday—people have turned over the entire island ten times in the past few years. We’re not going to waste our energy on that—we’re going to look for landmarks,” she said.
    â€œLandmarks? You mean like a rock with an arrow painted on it pointing to a cave door?” I went on to point like a hunting dog and did my best Scooby-Doo imitation for her. “Look, it’s a clue.”
    Kenny snickered, but Iz’s dark eyebrows narrowed over her eyes in a way that told me I’d better tread carefully.
    â€œNo, dipwad, I mean I want you to walk around a little bit and check things out. That way, if you ever do get up the courage to ask your grandma about looking through your dad’s things, you’ll recognize a map of the island if you see one. Get it now?”
    â€œMood swings ahead—hold on to your life jackets, mateys,” said Kenny. Iz transferred her scowl