Jumper by Michele Bossley Page B

in the shed, like you did to my grandfather and my friend Kayla?” I countered, my knees quivering with fear. I was careful to speak very loudly and clearly. “That’s kidnapping, in case you didn’t know, Jim Bellamy. You can’t threaten me. I’ll tell whoever I want about this, and you can’t stop me.”
    â€œOh, can’t I? Your grandpa’s having a hard time scraping money together to keep that ranch running, isn’t he? How would it be if things got just a little bit harder? You wouldn’t want ol’ Granddad to lose the farm, now would you?”
    â€œYou couldn’t do that,” I whispered, forgetting to talk loudly.
    â€œTry me,” Bellamy said, his eyes glittering like a snake’s.
    â€œAll right, I will,” I said defiantly. I’d heard another faint noise from my pocket, and itbolstered my courage. I sure hoped my hunch was right. I launched my final handful of cow manure straight at Bellamy, dodged behind a tree and dove into the open door of the semi’s cab. The livestock manifests were sitting right on the passenger seat of the truck. Obviously Bellamy had thought he was home free.
    I stripped off my dirty gloves and grabbed the forms, listening to Bellamy swear viciously as he wiped filth off his face with one sleeve. I’d gone way past being frightened. I was numb with terror as the man strode to the truck and stood in front of the driver’s door, his face livid.
    â€œYou little...” He swore again. “I’ve had enough of these games. Give me those forms, little girl.”
    One of the horses whinnied from the trailer. “No,” I said.
    â€œDon’t make me come in there after you,” said Bellamy.
    I didn’t move.
    Bellamy climbed into the truck. Instantly I opened the passenger door and flew out. And, at last, the sound I’d been waiting forfinally reached my ears. The wail of a police siren was cut off as a cruiser pulled into Bellamy’s drive.
    One of the officers got out of the car, one hand on his holster. “Mr. Bellamy?” he asked. He wrinkled his nose at the smell coming from the windshield of the truck and the front of Bellamy’s shirt.
    â€œYes.” Bellamy stepped out of the truck and shot me a warning glance.
    â€œWe’ve been called to an assault complaint at this residence. Would you be willing to answer a few questions?” The second officer got out of the car.
    â€œAbsolutely.” Jim Bellamy drew himself up and put on an oily smile. “I believe it was mostly a misunderstanding by my neighbor. His granddaughter here can explain.”
    Bellamy glanced at me, his eyes full of vicious meaning. A picture of Rosie, running free, crossed my mind. Then the thought of Grandpa losing his farm overshadowed it. I opened my mouth, but for a moment I didn’t know what to say. I still hadn’t been able to check my hunch about that cell phone.
    â€œYes.” I heard my voice crack. “Everything’s...” I paused as a horse whinnied again from the trailer. I was sure it was Rosie. I took a fresh grip on my courage. “...definitely not a misunderstanding,” I answered firmly. Bellamy stared at me in disbelief as I brandished the livestock manifest forms in one hand. “Mr. Bellamy has filled out these forms, showing that he is shipping a bunch of horses to a slaughterhouse today. Those horses were bought at a military auction of wild mustangs, and the rules of that auction said that those horses were not to be sold for meat.
    â€œBut my friend Kayla called you today because when we tried to confront Mr. Bellamy about this, he punched my grandfather and locked him and Kayla in a shed up the road. And now he just told me that if I didn’t keep my mouth shut about the wild horses, he would make sure my grandpa loses his ranch.”
    â€œCan you prove any of those allegations, young lady?” the officer