Trail of Secrets Read Online Free Page A

Firestone!” Dad proclaimed. “Now, what in the world would she be doing here?”
    â€œWe’ll soon find out,” I said. Roxie was a thirteen-year-old kid from Toronto whom I’d met at summer camp and brought home for a week in August because her foster family had been out of town. The family had picked her up on their way home after receiving a call from Roxie’s social worker, Miss Cooke. We hadn’t heard from Roxie since that day a few weeks earlier. As we drew closer, I noticed she’d dyed her short purple hair a soft pink colour with streaks of scarlet laced throughout. Her triple pierced ears glinted in the sun, and big dark sunglasses likely hid eyes circled in eyeliner and mascara. She was slender and short, dressed in faded blue jeans, a red tank top and jean jacket. Her elbows were resting on the top step, and her legs were stretched out and crossed at the ankles, showing off black leather boots.
    I jumped out of the car as soon as it came to a stop in the driveway. “Roxie! Great to see you,” I said as I raced over to the steps.
    She looked up at me and grinned. “Hey, Jennifer. How’s it going?”
    â€œNot so bad,” I said, sitting down beside her after she’d moved over to make room.
    â€œHello, Mr. Bannon,” Roxie said. “Long time no see.”
    â€œRoxie Firestone,” Dad said, “to what do we owe thispleasure?” He stood over us, a worried look in his eyes, even though he was smiling. “Everything okay at home?” We both knew Roxie’s foster parents hadn’t been all that eager to keep her, even though they’d looked like nice people the day they’d come to get her from our house. I imagined Roxie would be a challenge for any family. She’d been through a lot of homes and had an exterior as tough and prickly as a porcupine. As Dad said, Roxie was old way beyond her years.
    â€œWell, as it turns out, I’ve got a new home,” Roxie said.
    â€œIs that a good thing?” Dad asked.
    â€œMy last family thinks so.” She gave a little laugh. “My social worker started looking seriously at a couple here in Springhills after my visit, and they’ve agreed to give me a shot.”
    â€œWho, Roxie?” I asked.
    â€œMarcie and Bert. They’re an old retired couple, and they live on the other side of Springhills, near the train station. It’s kind of like living in the country. Not my first choice of locations, but whatever.” Roxie shrugged.
    Dad and I looked at each other. “That must be the Stoykos,” Dad said, and Roxie and I both nodded. Mr. Stoyko had run a convenience store in town that also sold homemade cabbage rolls, soups and ham or turkey sandwiches on thick crusty bread. We’d been sorry when he’d retired and closed shop a few years back. The Stoykos had emigrated from Poland many years earlier with their baby daughter, who’d become a doctor and moved to Hamilton.
    â€œWhere’s Leslie?” Roxie asked. “She’s not with you?”
    â€œLeslie’s gone to stay with her mother for a while,” Dad said, stepping past us to unlock the door.
    Roxie looked at me, and I nodded. “Bummer,” she said under her breath. “I was hoping we could hang out.”
    â€œProbably not, unless we put you on the next flight to L.A.,” I said. “Do the Stoykos know you’re here?”
    â€œYeah. They’re cool,” Roxie said. “They actually seem to want me to live with them. I have my own bedroom
and
my own bathroom. They gave me that bike over there.”
    I looked at where she pointed to a blue mountain bike leaning against the side of the house. “Nice.”
    â€œI’ve never had a bike before,” Roxie said, her eyes lighting up for a second before her face settled back into its normal look of indifference.
    â€œEverybody loved the Stoykos when they ran the convenience