Tracks in the Sand Read online

  Both Ally’s dad and mom listened as the story tumbled out. Behind them John, Kelly, and Nick’s little sister, Molly, crowded around to hear.

  “They said they were after rabbits?” John asked.

  Ally knew John would ask two million questions anytime something ignited his curiosity.

  “You’d better call the police,” Mrs. O’Connor finally said, glancing at her husband, a tall, lean man with a walruslike mustache and bright green eyes.

  “Go back to the house,” Ally’s dad told the kids. “Tell the police what you saw. It sounds a bit suspicious. Better safe than sorry.”

  “Do you think they want to hurt the horses?” Ally asked her mother.

  “The police will figure it out. Tell them exactly where you were, though,” Mrs. O’Connor said. “Who knows—maybe you scared off those two guys anyway.” She smiled, thinking, Ally has always had a great imagination.

  Nick jumped up first and started for the house. “You coming?” he asked Ally.

  “Yeah. Wherever you go, I go.”

  “I don’t need any Bible quotes right now,” Nick replied.

  “We should go back and get pictures as evidence,” John added, impatience coloring his freckled face.

  “Oh, no you don’t,” John’s dad told him. “You’re not traipsing back there while there are people walking around with guns.”

  “We haven’t heard any shots,” John said, pointing his camera at Ally and Nick, clicking it. “Maybe it was just a really big pellet gun.”

  “Not unless he’s using mini-golf balls,” Nick said.

  “Whatever it was, those guys are up to no good,” Ally said, standing up.

  “We want to go with you,” cried Molly and Kelly.

  “All right,” Nick agreed, “let’s all go.”

  The five started off for the house nestled back from the beach.

  “Why would those men shoot the horses?”eleven-year-old Molly asked, her sun-burned face looking like an angel’s.

  Ally didn’t want her to be worried. “We don’t know for certain that they were after the horses. It does seem kind of reckless, especially in broad daylight. But these two guys didn’t look exactly like straight-A students.”

  “Not like me, huh?” John asked, only half-joking.

  “Oh, they looked like you,” Nick added.

  “So you’re saying they looked awesome?” John asked, striking a manly pose.

  Ally laughed teasingly. “Yeah,” she said, cocking an eyebrow. “Scary.”

  The kids mounted the steep stairway to the houses. Suddenly Ally heard something in the brush over the dunes. She waved her hand, signaling everyone to shush.

  “What?” John asked, almost bumping into her back.

  “Be still,” Ally whispered.

  “Ally’s always hearing something,” John complained, but Nick pushed him down.

  All the kids froze. Something moved among the long dune grasses. The trees rustled in jerks and jumps. There was something big in there.

  Ally groped forward on her hands and knees. Usually the horses traveled with the herd, but could this be one that strayed or was injured? Or could it be one those men were after? Was it stuck? Ally’s heart pounded into her throat. She and Nick took a step. Then another.

  The thing howled!

  Nick looked like he was about to turn and run, but Ally grabbed his elbow.

  A black Labrador dog exploded from the bushes, yowling and nipping at Nick’s feet.

  “It’s just Mr. Tomoro’s dog, Dunk,” John said, snapping a picture.

  Mr. Tomoro was a neighbor, an old Japanese man who owned a wondrous shark tooth collection. His dog scampered up to the kids and whimpered as if he belonged to them.

  “Awww, the poor thing’s got brambles caught in his coat,” Ally said, bending down to pull a prickly thorn from the dog’s foot. Dunk licked her hand as she gently drew the thorn out. Nick picked up a front leg and scrutinized it, then let go.

  “He’s okay,” Nick pronounced, taking the dog’s face in his hands and shaking him. “Little Dunk gettin’ in big trouble? Is that it, Dunky Boy?”

  The dog yowled with joy for the attention.

  Ally pulled off other prickers. Dunk gave the kids one more friendly sniff and pranced off, his head high, tail lashing. “That Dunk really had me going,” she said.

  “Oh, you’re just a dog-lover,” Nick said.

  “And a cat-lover, horse-lover, lamb-lover,” added John.

  “Crab-lover, fish-lover, bird-lover,” sang Molly.

  “Not a pig-lover, though,” Nick said.

  Ally gave him a wink. “Well, you’re a good pig.”

  They started up the stairs toward the house.

  Kelly announced, “I get to make the call!”

  John contradicted his little sister. “Ally is the witness,” he said. “She’s making the call.”

  “I’m just going to dial the numbers,” Kelly retorted.

  “That takes real genius,” John said sarcastically.

  Ally glared at him, annoyed.

  As they came within sight of the house, Nick said, “Hey, look, Dad’s in the crow’s nest!”

  Ally looked up to see Nick’s father, Chuck Parker, with a pair of binoculars in his hands. He had beat them back from the beach and waved at them to hurry.

  “He wants us to see something,” Nick said excitedly.

  Nick watched his dad peer through the binoculars then call to them again. “I see one of the horses,” he yelled, pointing. “Out past the edge of the sanctuary—on somebody’s lawn.”

  Dashing all the faster, the kids’ sandals struck the rough pavement in sharp slaps. They reached the house and hurried up the porch stairs.

  Four

  In the Crow’s Nest

  Most of the beach houses on the Outer Banks were built on stilts. The one that the O’Connors, Parkers, and DeBarkses rented had six bedrooms—one for each set of parents, one for Nick and John, one for Molly and Kelly, and a third one for Ally. The house included all the amenities—VCR, TV, stereo, dishwasher, everything anyone could want, on vacation or not. It even had a spa outside where people could soak in the hot tub after a long day sun-tanning on the beach.

  The crow’s nest was an actual sailor’s lookout post made from a ship’s mast. The owner of the house had settled the post through the middle of the house. You could climb up a ladder on it from inside and then out onto a little deck on the roof. If you went all the way from the deck at the roof to the top of the mast, you stood a good twenty feet higher on a little platform. From there you could see for miles, depending on the weather.

  “I’m first!” Kelly shouted as the five kids clattered up the stairs to the top floor.

  “I’ll beat you,” John called from behind but catching up.

  Nick grabbed John’s hand and whispered, “Let her go first.”

  “Awww,” John slowed down.

  Nick and Ally watched from the bottom as each child before them pushed through the wooden hatch on the roof.

  Nick climbed quickly and stuck his head through the hatch, eager to scale the last twenty feet. Suddenly he looked down at Ally. “Hey, shouldn’t we call the police?” he asked.

  “Oh, I almost forgot!”

  “We see one! We see one!” Kelly shouted from high above them.

  “Come on up, Ally,” Mr. Parker called. “Your dream is about to come true.”

  Nick held out a hand to pull her through the hatch, but Ally said, “What about the police?”

  “Yeah, you’d better do that first,” Nick said.

  Ally started back down.

  “Hurry then!” Nick said, hoping the horse would remain in time for her to get back up.

  “I’ll be right up,” Ally said, backing down the ladder. “Tell the horse to stay put!”

  Nick stared out over the houses. Sure enough, a small Mustang stood in the middle of a lawn, chomping on fresh grass. “Hurry!” he called down to Ally. The horse looked up. A
s Nick watched, a man ran out of the house, waving at the horse. It looked like the same man he and Ally had seen with the gun.

  “Can I see those binoculars, Dad?” Nick said.

  Sure enough, Nick thought, peering below. “That’s one of the guys we saw,” he told his dad, focusing on the yard. “It’s the guy with the gun.”

  The horse ran off, and the suspicious-looking man followed. Nick surveyed the area, looking for the other guy.

  “The police have to know about this,” Mr. Parker told the kids.

  A minute later, Ally poked her head through the hatch. “The police will be here soon,” she said. “There’s not supposed to be any hunting on this beach—or guns.”

  “Some man chased away the horse,” Kelly informed her.

  “It was one of the guys we saw,” Nick said, handing the binoculars to Ally.

  Everyone stood for a moment as Ally looked over. “It’s gone?” she whispered.

  “I’m sorry,” Mr. Parker said. “That goofball down there chased it away.”

  “Then let’s go try to find it in the brush out there,” Ally answered.

  “I think we might want to get a picture,” John said.

  Nick agreed. “I think the horses are in danger.”

  Mr. Parker surveyed the situation below. “Okay,” he said, “just check it out from the end of the street, Nick. Molly, you and Kelly stay up here with me.”

  “But why?” Kelly wailed.

  “Cool!” Molly said. “We can look out for the horses and the bad guys then signal Ally and Nick and John where they are.”

  Nick wanted to believe there was an easy and simple explanation for everything. But Ally’s jaw was flexed as if she was ready for battle. They sprinted down the street, John in tow, with his fingers poised on the camera, ready to catch any action on film.

  Five

  Advice from Mr. Tomoro

  Ally, Nick, and John reached the edge of the horse sanctuary. They stood at the end of the street and surveyed the choppy lawn. The grass had been plucked up in huge mouthfuls.

  Ally laughed. “Look, you can order your own Spanish Mustang to mow your lawn.”

  The air had a crisp, salty scent. And something else, Ally thought. But what? A little trail angled into the trees and thick undergrowth. The horses must have gone that way, Ally thought. She followed the tracks for a few steps then stopped before a pile of horse droppings.

  “Yuck!” Ally said, shaking her head.

  John stepped back to focus his camera.

  “You’re going to photograph that?” Ally cried.

  “Yeah, why not? It’s evidence,” John said, his face full of surprise.

  She hurried ahead as John’s camera clicked.

  “Where on earth did that horse go?” John asked. He picked up a stone and threw it into the trees.

  “Don’t do that!” Ally cried. “If the horses are there, it might scare them.”

  Nick stopped walking. “I guess we lost them again,” he said.

  “But where could they have gone?” Ally murmured.

  Discouraged, they finally turned and headed back home. From the street, Ally looked up at the crow’s nest and signaled to Kelly and Molly. But just then a police car barreled down the driveway toward them.

  “Here comes the rescue squad now,” Ally said. Nick and John turned to face the cruiser.

  “Are you here about the two mysterious men with the gun?” Ally asked.

  “Yes,” one officer said, then ventured, “Are you Ally O’Connor?”

  “Yes, and these two are my friends. That’s the house we’re renting. We saw the man again just a few minutes ago—there, by the house at the end of the street.”

  The officer craned his neck around and nodded. “Okay, I’ll check it out. You kids stay here.”

  “Thanks,” Ally said.

  “What now?” Nick asked, feeling frustrated because he wanted in on the action.

  “I’ve got an idea,” Ally said. “Come on.” She started off down the main street.

  “Oh, yeah, Mr. Tomoro!” Nick realized. He loved Mr. Tomoro’s stories. The old man, a widower, took special pride in being a naturalized American citizen, even though he was one of the first Japanese-Americans to be put in a containment camp at the beginning of World War II. He liked having Nick and others come by to talk.

  “If anyone knows anything, he does,” Ally answered.

  “Mr. Tomoro, Mr. Tomoro,” Ally said in greeting when the three reached his house. John was ready to snap another photo.

  “Oh, Ally-san. And Nick-san and John-san. Mushee-Mushee.” Ally knew that was the Japanese way of saying hello.

  “We were hoping to take pictures of the Spanish Mustangs,” John shouted.

  “Ah, very hard to do.”

  “Do you know where the last sighting was?” Nick asked him.

  “I think they down this end,” he said, speaking deliberately, as if measuring each word from his mouth. “Have not seen in while, of course. But they—you know—hanging out.”

  Nick laughed. “We know. We just saw one on someone’s lawn.”

  “Yes. They very suspicious of people, though. Must be careful. They wild, not so friendly, though I gotten close.”

  Dunk sidled up and nuzzled Nick’s hand with his face.

  “Is the best time to find them in the morning?” Ally asked.

  “Yes, they feed early then rest in heat of day.”

  “Thank you, Mr. Tomoro,” the kids all said at once.

  “Douitashimashite.” That was Japanese for “you’re welcome.” Mr. Tomoro added, “Thank you for stopping by.”

  The kids answered in unison, “Do-itashi-mashe-te!”

  Six

  Making a Plan

  Later that evening the kids played Boggle around the coffee table as their parents perused the local papers from comfortable chairs. Nick listened to them talk about the local news.

  “Looks like a real local brawl,” Nick’s father said. “This big shot wants to develop more of the horse sanctuary. Too bad.”

  “A ruthless guy, according to the press,” Ally’s dad answered. “I wouldn’t be surprised if he keeps pushing it until they cave in.”

  “They won’t give in,” John’s father added, looking up from the evening paper. “Those horses are sacred around here.”

  “Nothing will come of it,” Nick’s father said with finality. “The only thing that would change the situation is if all the horses disappeared. It almost happened once upon a time.”

  Nick knew he referred to a number of years ago when the Mustang herd was down to less than ten.

  Molly whispered to Nick, “Do you really think that bad guy you saw is out to hurt the horses, Nick?”

  Shaking his head, Nick tried to reassure her. “No one would hurt the horses. They’re a landmark!” But he wondered if Ally was right. Were the Mustangs in danger? Were those two dirty men employed by a ruthless land developer?

  After their thirteenth game of Boggle, Nick took Ally into the kitchen and laid out a plan. “Let’s get up early in the morning and see if we can find the horses.”

  “How early?” Ally asked.

  “Before the sun comes up,” Nick answered.

  “Whew, you do pick the times.”

  “It’s the only way,” Nick said.

  The other kids chimed in from behind the door, “If you guys are getting up to see the horses, we are, too.”

  “No way,” Nick answered. “This is for me and Ally.”

  John glared at them, then smiled. “Then let me and Molly come. Kelly should stay back because she’s the youngest.”

  “What are you saying?” Kelly said angrily.

  “All right,” Nick said, sensing defeat. “But I think John is right, Kelly. It’s too early for you, and you’re too young.”

  Kelly started to whine. “I never get to do anything. I’m almost as old as Molly.”

  “Shhh,” Nick snapped.

  “You’ll be part o
f it when we find them,” Ally said, softening the blow. “Let’s ask my mom,” she added toward Nick.

  “But she might not let us go,” Nick said, scowling.

  “Well, I think they have to know,” Ally said. “We can’t just sneak out in the dark.”

  Mrs. O’Connor and the other parents talked it over until finally they agreed the older kids could leave the house by daylight, providing they head home straight away if they saw any sign of the two men. Though a couple of the fathers had reservations, they trusted their kids to not do anything stupid.

  Nick winked at Ally.

  She nodded back, then headed to the closet for some backpacks and to the kitchen for supplies.

  As he lay in bed, though, Nick worried. Could something go wrong the next day? Just how much danger were the Mustangs in?

  Seven

  Destination: the Unknown

  Kelly heard Ally’s alarm ring in the next room at 5:20 A.M. When Kelly opened her eyes, Molly was already stretching. Molly jumped off the top bunk and was dressed in seconds.

  “Be real quiet,” Kelly heard Ally say through the doorway.

  Kelly breathed normally and tried to sound asleep. I’ll show them, she thought to herself. When Ally and Molly left the room, she set her alarm for half an hour later.

  John and Nick were already in the hallway when the girls stepped into the cool of the lower part of the house. “Let’s rock and roll,” Nick whispered.

  Their equipment had been piled neatly by the back door the night before. John had his camera, a pair of binoculars, and a flashlight. Nick carried a knapsack full of bologna sandwiches, orange juice coolers, and his Swiss Army knife.

  Ally picked up the blanket they planned to lay on the sand where they’d wait and watch once they found tracks. Molly shouldered the other backpack full of horse goodies—ten carrots, twelve small apples, and a packet of that thick lush grass the horses liked—a surprise from Molly who had slipped outside after the parents’ conference.

  “Ready?” Nick asked, opening the door.

  “Geared up,” John answered, checking his camera for the twentieth time to make sure the film was ready.

  Ally looked everyone over. “Okay, don’t anyone scream if the going gets tough. That’s when…”