Winter Hawk Star by Sigmund Brouwer Read Free Book Online

stuff,” he said. “I borrowed it from their snack cart. Youknow, the one with the cookies and big Kool-Aid jugs that shows up for the kids.”
    â€œYeah,” I said.
    â€œI guess you can’t really say we’re borrowing this Kool-Aid,” Riley said. “I mean, they probably wouldn’t want it back when we’re through with it. Or when it gets through us.”
    â€œYeah,” I said, finally drinking some Kool-Aid from my own water bottle.
    â€œWhat’s the matter?” Riley asked. “I just made a joke.”
    I drank in silence.
    â€œDid Samantha turn you down?” he continued. There was a high school dance coming up. I’d made the mistake yesterday of mentioning to Riley that I’d like to take Sam to it.
    â€œDidn’t ask her,” I said. At least I hadn’t asked her about the dance. After tracking her down, I’d told her about the window. Then I had worked up enough courage to ask her why her brother was in danger. She’d gotten angry and told me to mind my own business.
    â€œYou’ve got to go for it,” Riley said. “Only two weeks until the dance.”
    I turned a corner and headed past the Chinatown gate toward the Burnside Bridge.
    â€œShe might say no,” I said. My mind, though, was on Earl Chadley, director of Youth Works. Riley and I had met him only briefly. He had introduced himself to us on our second visit and thanked us for our help with a big smile that didn’t seem real.
    Earl Chadley was a skinny man with long hair that he flipped back while he was speaking. He wore sandals and blue jeans and a ratty old shirt, which might have been cool if he were twenty instead of closer to fifty.
    Why was he threatening Samantha Blair with something as serious as killing her brother? What secret did she know that she was supposed to keep hidden? What were the questions she wasn’t supposed to ask?
    â€œHey, Watson, snap out of it,” Riley said, “I was telling you something.”
    â€œSure,” I said. “What?”
    â€œIt’s advice,” Riley said. “The only way you get anywhere in life is by taking chances.”
    â€œSure,” I said.
    He snapped his fingers. “It’s the window, right? You’re bummed out about that. I already told you, I’ll pay for half the damage.”
    â€œDon’t worry about it,” I said. My mind was still on Samantha and the weird conversation I had overheard. “There are a lot worse things in life than broken windows.”

chapter nine
    I found myself yawning as we skated our warm-up patterns to begin the practice.
    I moved past a bunch of guys leaning and stretching from side to side to loosen up. I put on a burst of speed and caught up to Riley.
    â€œI think it was a dumb idea to play street hockey before practice,” I said, cruising beside him. “My legs feel like wooden stilts.”
    Riley didn’t answer.
    â€œHey, Goofball! Didn’t you hear me?”
    He turned his face toward me. A strangefrown crunched his face into a look of worry.
    â€œYou all right?” I asked.
    He stumbled; then he caught his balance. “I don’t know.”
    He stumbled again.
    Now panic crossed his face.
    â€œTyler!” I heard fear in his voice.
    Someone fired a pass in our direction. The puck bounced off his skates.
    â€œTyler!”
    â€œI’m right beside you,” I said. The fear in his voice scared me too.
    â€œSkate closer,” he said. “Let me grab your arm.”
    I moved tight beside him. With his hockey glove still on, he pulled at my sweater.
    â€œGet me to the players’ bench,” he said. “Move slow, so it looks like we’re talking about stuff.”
    â€œI don’t get it,” I said.
    â€œJust do it, all right?”
    Guys skated past us. Some were moving at full speed, getting ready for the regular skating drills that Coach Estleman used to keep