Abduction! (9 page)

Bonnie looked at the drawing again, barely resisting the urge to rip it into pieces.

Since the police were now monitoring the Sholters’ phone, Bonnie and her mom left the house together and spent the day distributing more
MATT IS MISSING
posters. They checked in with Officer Calvin frequently, but there was never any news.

By the time they returned home, Bonnie was worn out. She ate, took a shower, and went straight to bed.

Two hours later, she woke trembling and drenched with sweat. She had dreamed of running alone through tall grass, calling for help.

No, Bonnie thought. I can’t start having nightmares again. Matt isn’t gone forever, and I’m not alone. Dozens of people are helping us, people we don’t even know.

Bonnie longed to have Pookie on her bed again, pawing at the blanket and making little whimper sounds in his sleep.

As her heart rate returned to normal, she remembered reading Nancy’s note and wishing she could go to the mall instead of watching Matt. Had Matt been lured away from school at that exact moment? Had he climbed into a car as Bonnie wished she didn’t have to take care of him?

O
n Sunday, the Sholters’ house seemed full of what wasn’t there. Everywhere Bonnie looked she expected to see Matt or Pookie. She put fresh water in the dog dish, as she did every morning. She set three cereal bowls on the table for breakfast, then put Matt’s bowl back in the cupboard.

Even the sun glinting off the prism didn’t seem cheerful. Bonnie reached for the milk carton without glancing at the rainbows on the floor.

That afternoon Bonnie made smaller
MISSING
flyers on the computer. She put Matt’s picture on them plus his name and age. She added:
FAVORITE FOOD: MACARONI AND CHEESE. LOVES TO PLAY BASEBALL
. She put a description of Pookie, too, and said he was also missing.
She used the phone number Detective Morrison had given her.

Bonnie printed the flyers, getting four per sheet of paper. She used red paper because red was Matt’s favorite color, but his picture didn’t show clearly, so she switched to white paper. She didn’t need to please Matt; she needed to find him.

“Pictures work,” Officer Calvin had said.

She printed fifty sheets, or two hundred flyers. Nancy helped her cut them.

“I’ll give some to everyone at school tomorrow,” Nancy said. “I’m sure they already know about Matt, but they can pass the flyers on to people who might not know.”

“Thanks,” Bonnie said. “Mom said I can take them to the grocery store and hand them out to people shopping.”

“What about other towns?” Nancy said. “Whoever took Matt might have gone away from here. I could mail some to my Aunt Judy and Uncle Frank in Richland. I know they’d give out the flyers.”

“Good idea. The police are using a national organization for missing kids, but we need to reach people who don’t know about that group.”

Nancy took a stack of flyers. “I have to go home now,” she said. “It’s my grandma’s birthday, and we’re having
a party for her. We don’t feel like having a party—we’d rather help try to find Matt—but we invited Grandma’s friends weeks ago. I’ll give all of them one of the flyers.”

“Thanks.”

“Mom says if Matt isn’t found today, I can come over and help again tomorrow, as soon as I get home from school.”

Bonnie promised to call if there was any word. After Nancy left, Bonnie thought, Nancy’s right. The person who took Matt could have gone anywhere. Matt might not be in Washington State now. Matt could be in Florida or New York or anywhere.

The police had alerted the airport, but what if Matt’s kidnapper took a short flight before the word got out? Maybe he flew a private plane. Maybe they took a bus or Amtrak. Matt might be in a car right now, speeding across Iowa.

The possibilities were endless. Bonnie looked at the stack of
MATT IS MISSING
flyers. They seemed like such a small thing to do in the face of a huge problem.

Bonnie took a deep breath. My flyers may be small, she thought, but they’re better than doing nothing, and Matt might still be in the Seattle area. His abductor could be holed up somewhere, waiting for the furor to die down.

She filled a bag with flyers, got on her bike, and headed for the grocery store. One of the clerks gave Bonnie permission to stand at the door and distribute the flyers.

“I saw you on the news last night,” the clerk said. “I hope they find your brother real soon. Your dog, too.”

In between shoppers, Bonnie had time to think. The Internet was the best way to spread information quickly. She decided to write an e-mail about Matt to all the names in Mom’s address book. She would ask everyone to watch for him and to send her message to all the people on their e-mail lists. She could include the Web site that had Matt’s picture. Hundreds more people all over the country would instantly be looking for Matt.

The idea was too good to wait. Bonnie left her post at the store and went home to send the e-mail right away. As she turned her bike onto her street, she saw a van from one of the TV stations parked in front of her house. Bonnie’s mom was talking to reporters again.

Bonnie’s pulse raced. Had Matt been found? She pedaled faster. Mom stood on the porch alone.

If Matt had been found, he would be there with her. Was there bad news? The small seed of fear that had lurked all day in the back of Bonnie’s mind quickly blossomed into panic.

As soon as she reached her own house, Bonnie dropped the bike at the curb and listened to Mom’s words: “If anyone sees Matt, please call the police immediately.” It sounded like a rerun of yesterday’s news conference.

Bonnie noticed her mom’s eyes were puffy and red. She probably cried half the night the same as I did, Bonnie thought. She retrieved her bike, rode it around to the alley, and put it in the garage.

When the media people left, Mrs. Sholter told Bonnie, “My boss called. He’s offered a ten-thousand-dollar reward for information leading to Matt’s safe return.”

“Wow!” Bonnie said.

“Most people are good,” Mrs. Sholter said.

She’s right, Bonnie thought. There are bad people in the world, people who steal children and dogs, but there are lots more good people. Dozens of people—maybe even hundreds—were walking the streets today, searching for Matt.

Detective Morrison came to the door. “We heard from someone who thinks he saw Pookie.”

“Did he see Matt?” Bonnie asked. “Was Matt there?”

“No. He didn’t see Matt.”

“Was Pookie running loose or was he with someone?” Mrs. Sholter asked.

“He was with an elderly couple.”

“An elderly couple? Are you sure it was Pookie?”

“The caller thinks it was Pookie. He saw them late Friday afternoon.”

“Where?” Bonnie asked.

“He was Rollerblading with friends at Marymoor Park, and he saw the dog with a man and woman, both about seventy years old, who stood near some restrooms. The caller didn’t notice what kind of vehicle they were driving, but the time would be about right.”

“Did he talk to them?” Bonnie asked.

“No. At the time he had no reason to pay attention to the couple or the dog. Then he saw Pookie’s picture on television and thought the dog he saw Friday afternoon was the same, so he called. Of course, he could be mistaken; the dog he saw might not have been Pookie.”

There she goes again, Bonnie thought. The police didn’t seem to believe anything until it was proven.

“We have officers at Marymoor Park right now,” Detective Morrison said, “looking for anything useful. The young man who called remembered exactly where he saw the dog.”

“If it was Pookie,” Bonnie said, “why wasn’t Matt there, too?”

“Perhaps he was,” Mrs. Sholter said. “That’s what the police are trying to find out.”

Matt might have been in the bathroom, Bonnie thought, where the boy on Rollerblades didn’t see him, or he might still have been in the kidnapper’s car.

“Marymoor Park isn’t very far,” Bonnie said. “Why would the person have gone there?”

“If an elderly couple had Pookie,” Detective Morrison said, “I’d like to know where they got him.”

“I wonder what their connection is to the man who was at the school,” Bonnie said.

“Someone has to notice a small boy and a dog who suddenly show up where they didn’t live before,” Mrs. Sholter said. “Whoever took them might be able to pretend Matt is a visiting relative, but Pookie’s not easy to conceal—he has to go outside regularly. Matt and Pookie together will be hard to hide.”

“They may not be together,” Detective Morrison said. “Matt’s abductor might have given the dog to someone.”

“Such as the couple in the park,” Bonnie said.

“It’s also possible Pookie’s disappearance and Matt’s aren’t connected.”

“Pookie’s picture has been on TV and in the newspaper,” Bonnie said. “Who would keep a dog they know was stolen?”

“Not everyone watches the news or reads the papers,” Detective Morrison said.

Bonnie sank into a chair. “It keeps getting worse and worse,” she said.

“We’ll find Matt and Pookie,” Mrs. Sholter said. “We have to find them.”

Detective Morrison nodded. “It may take a few days.”

Bonnie didn’t think she could stand it if it went that long with no word.

“The abductor might try to disguise Matt,” Detective Morrison said. “His hair could be cut differently or even dyed a different color. He’s probably wearing new clothes by now.”

“Maybe they’ll dye Pookie’s hair, too,” Bonnie said.

“I doubt anyone would dye the dog’s fur,” Detective Morrison said, “but they might shave it off.”

“Everyone is looking for a shaggy dog,” Bonnie said.

“I know.”

“Maybe the man kept Matt, but gave Pookie to the old couple,” Bonnie said. “Maybe they’re his parents or his grandparents.”

“You should go into police work,” Detective Morrison said. “You think like a cop. More likely, the person who took Pookie dumped him after he served his purpose of luring Matt into the car.”

“Whoever found him thinks he was a stray,” Bonnie said.

“Do you know anyone who works for UPS?” Detective Morrison asked.

“No,” Mrs. Sholter said.

“Did you in the past?”

“No.”

“I thought the man at the school wasn’t really a UPS deliveryman,” Bonnie said.

“He wasn’t. I’m trying to find out where he got the uniform. Maybe he used to work for UPS, or a relative works for them. Maybe it wasn’t a real uniform. Anyone could buy a brown shirt and embroider UPS on the pocket. If he wore matching brown pants, he’d look authentic.”

“There are so many possibilities,” Bonnie said. “How can you sort through everything?”

“I can’t,” Detective Morrison said. “I start with what seems most important, the most likely to provide a solid lead, and follow through on that. Other officers do the same, one idea at a time.”

“We appreciate all you’re doing,” Mrs. Sholter said.

“By the way, the police in Reno say your ex-husband left there four years ago, leaving twelve unpaid traffic tickets but no forwarding address.”

Mrs. Sholter made no comment.

Usually Sundays flew past much faster than schooldays, but this one dragged on. Every time the mantel
clock struck the hour, Bonnie thought, Another hour without Matt. Another hour without Pookie.

Two women who worked with Bonnie’s mom brought a casserole and some potato salad. “You have to eat,” they said, “and we didn’t want you worrying about what to fix.”

Not long after they left, Nancy and her parents arrived with a platter of fried chicken and half a cake. “The cake’s left over from Grandma’s party,” Nancy said.

Matt’s friend Stanley and his dad brought a big bowl of macaroni and cheese. Stanley still looked scared.

“This is Matt’s favorite meal when he’s at our house,” Stanley’s dad said. “We thought you should have some ready to warm up as soon as Matt gets home.”

“Thank you,” Bonnie said as she took the bowl.

“Will you have Matt call me as soon as he gets home?” Stanley asked.

Mrs. Sholter promised she would. Then she put the macaroni and cheese in the freezer, to save for Matt’s homecoming.

Mrs. Largent, pushing her toddler in his stroller, brought over a pan of lasagna. “When I made our dinner,” she explained, “I made extra for you.”

When everyone had left, Bonnie looked at all the food and said, “This is what people always do when there’s been a death in the family—they bring food.” She burst into tears.

Mrs. Sholter hugged her daughter. “It’s what people do for each other in any time of trouble. I took a salad to Mrs. Watson after she had surgery, remember? And you baked cookies for Nancy when she broke her ankle.”

Bonnie wiped her eyes.

“It’s kind of our friends to bring food,” Mrs. Sholter said. “They want to help, and it’s one of the few things they can do.”

She got two plates and handed one to Bonnie. “We may as well eat it while it’s fresh.”

Bonnie put some potato salad and a piece of chicken on the plate. She hadn’t realized how hungry she was until she started to eat. Everything tasted wonderful.

As she bit into a piece of cake she said, “I wonder what Matt is eating.”