Can You Keep a Secret? by R. L. Stine

stared at the setting sun, letting the full horror of my thought wash over me. “That masked guy…” I finally found my voice. “He’s going to come after his money.”
    “I know,” Eddie said, “but he’s not going to find it. And he won’t know where to look for it. No way he’ll know it was us who took it.”
    Didn’t Eddie see that I was suddenly trembling in fear. Couldn’t he tell that a cold chill had descended over my entire body?
    “Eddie,” I said softly. “Eddie, listen to me. He’ll know we took it. He’ll definitely know.”
    Eddie narrowed his eyes at me. “Huh? How will he know?”
    “Eddie, you carved our names on the tree. You gave him our names. It won’t take him long. He’ll figure out who we are, and he’ll be coming. He’ll be coming real soon.”

 
    18.
    Eddie finally caught on. Something flashed in his strange gray eyes, and his face suddenly went rigid. He reached for me, and I sank into his arms. We sat there holding each other, not speaking, not moving, our faces pressed together. No sound but our breathing and the soft lap of the river current below us.
    We held each other until the sun vanished and darkness swallowed the car. Headlights washed over the window. An oncoming car honked at us. The sound snapped us out of our terrified paralysis.
    I sat back up. I could still feel Eddie’s warm cheek on my skin. I gazed out the window, searching for the moon, but I couldn’t find it. “If only…” I whispered.
    “If only what ?” Eddie said, his hands sliding over the steering wheel.
    “If only we had left that briefcase in the tree,” I said. “We’d be safe, Eddie. Sure, we wouldn’t have all that money. But we’d be safe. That guy will be desperate. And he has a gun. He’ll kill us, Eddie. When he finds us, he’ll kill us.”
    I tried to hold it back, but a sob escaped my throat. And my body shuddered once again. I wrapped my arms around my chest, trying to stop the shakes.
    “Okay,” Eddie said, locking his eyes on mine. “Okay. He won’t kill us, Emmy. That’s what we’ll do. That’s exactly what we’ll do.”
    I gazed back at him. “What are you saying?”
    “We’ll return the money. We’ll dig it up and put it back in the tree.”
    Another car whirred past, filling the windshield with white light.
    “When?” I said. “Right now?”
    Eddie shrugged. “Why not?”
    My mind was spinning. “What about the others?”
    “We’ll tell them later. We’ll tell them what we did. They’ll understand. They’re our friends, right?”
    I nodded. “And their lives aren’t in danger. Not like us. They’ll understand we had no choice.”
    Eddie started the car. A sharp wind gust came off the river. The air was surprisingly cold. I rolled up my window.
    I suddenly felt lighter. The idea of giving back the money made me feel so relieved. I couldn’t wait to get back to a normal life.
    Eddie was whistling to himself, tapping a rhythm on the steering wheel. I could see he felt better, too. He turned the car around, and we roared down the River Road toward the pet cemetery on the other end of town.
    Strong wind gusts battered the little car. Gazing out the window, I saw that the sky had turned an eerie yellow. “Is it supposed to rain?” I asked.
    Eddie nodded. “Yeah. Looks like a pretty good storm coming up. Let’s try to beat it.” He tromped hard on the gas pedal and the car shot forward.
    “Hey, wait—” I grabbed his sleeve. “No way. Remember? No license?”
    He slowed a little. We passed the mall. A line of cars was leaving. The stores were closing. I thought of the armored truck parked there, probably near the Shadyside First National Bank, although Eddie’s stepdad didn’t say. I pictured it parked there, its back door open. And the masked gunman holding out his briefcase to be filled.
    Eddie was obviously thinking about it, too. “That guy must be pretty bold to hold up an armored truck all by himself,” he said.
    “Or pretty