Baby-Sitting Is a Dangerous Job (12 page)

“Shut her up, or I will,” he told me; and I hugged the little girl and murmured something soothing. I'd rather have yelled out where we were, if I'd known how to do it in just a few words.

Henry finally hung up and glared at his brother. “How come they're all down here?”

“They needed something to eat,” Dan told him. “What difference does it make? Nobody got away.”

Henry looked at the game on the TV set; Jeremy was still holding his set of controls. “Playing games, are you? Having fun?” He sounded angry.

“There's nothing else to do,” Dan said sullenly. “And they behave better if they have something to do.”

“Who cares how they behave? There's nobody to hear them. Come out and take a look at my car after you lock them up; it's sputtering, threatening to stall, and the last thing we need is a car that quits in the middle of the operation.”

Shana spoke up as if there were no serious conversation going on. “I want a jelly butter sandwich.”

It was only midmorning, but I guess little kids get hungry fairly often. “If there's peanut butter and bread and jelly, I'll make it for her,” I said quickly.

Dan hesitated. “I'll look at the car. You keep an eye on things here,” he said; and as he started out the door, Henry spoke sharply.

“Take the dogs out with you.”

The Dobermans seemed happy to go, and Henry looked less tense when they'd left the kitchen. I made Shana's sandwich, and on impulse an additional one for each of the rest of us, while Henry carried on a low-voiced conversation on the telephone. I wasn't sure, but I guessed he was talking to his father.

Probably to make sure I didn't make out what he was saying, he turned his back to me. I saw Jeremy walk casually over to the dog food bag and start putting handfuls of it into his pockets. When he caught my eye, he grinned a little, and I nodded. Jeremy had the same idea I did. I made an extra sandwich, just for the dogs, in case I needed to eat my own, though I wasn't the least bit hungry yet.

Henry suddenly turned around to face us.
“Go on back upstairs,” he commanded. We did, and it was a relief to get out of the same room with him.

I heard Dan coming back inside. “It was a clogged fuel line. I blew it out,” he said.

“Good. Now put those wild animals back on guard duty,” Henry ordered, and Dan and the dogs followed us up the stairs.

Once Dan had gone, I tried out my plan. So far nobody but Shana had fed the dogs from her hand, but they'd certainly responded to her. Maybe the rest of us could win them over, too. Maybe they weren't trained guard dogs who'd been taught not to touch food unless it came from their master. Maybe they were just mean-looking dogs that the old man, Okie, had kept for company as well as to frighten prowlers away.

As usual, Shana left her crusts, eating out the middle of her sandwich. When she'd finished the good part, she tore the scraps in half. I wasn't worried about her walking up to the dogs this time, because I was pretty sure they wouldn't hurt her, at least not if she didn't try to go past them.

She dropped a half-circle of crust before each of them, which they caught and swallowed almost instantly.

I decided I didn't need either of the sandwiches I'd carried up, wrapped in paper towels. I stood in the doorway for a moment, gathering my courage, a sandwich in each hand.

“Good dogs,” I said uncertainly.

The dogs lay with ears pricked, heads alert, watching. They didn't growl.

That made a me a bit braver. “You want something to eat?” I said, using a soft voice I hoped was disarming. “You like jelly butter sandwiches?”

They didn't wag their tails, nor move, except that their noses quivered.

I took a couple of steps, carefully, so that I wouldn't startle them. I held out the sandwiches. “You want some?”

Behind me, Jeremy said unexpectedly. “Come!”

To my astonishment, both dogs rose to their feet and took a few stiff-legged steps toward us.

“Sit!” Jeremy ordered, and the dogs sat.

Excitement began to build within me. The dogs had been the companions of an old man, and though they'd seen Dan and Henry when they'd worked on the grounds of the estate, they didn't seem to like them particularly. If they'd been pets of Okie's, they might be coaxed into liking someone else who fed them. Neither of the Hazens petted them, or spoke to them except to give orders. And if the dogs would obey Jeremy's orders . . .

I remembered a dog we'd had when I was little, old Foxie. Foxie had done tricks that Tim taught her. “Speak,” I requested, and then jumped backward when they each emited a sharp, single bark.

Quickly, I tossed each of them a full sandwich; they ate them as quickly as they'd eaten the hamburgers earlier that morning.

Downstairs, I heard Henry's voice. “What's going on? What're those kids doing? The dogs barked.”

“The kids probably got too close to 'em,” Dan said. He'd come to the foot of the stairway, and I moved hastily back into the bedroom. “The dogs are doing just what they're supposed to do.”

It seemed as if the dogs should be full by that time, but after the Hazens returned to the kitchen, they continued to watch us hopefully. Jeremy put a hand into a pocket and slowly drew out a few chunks of the dog food.

“Don't make them speak again,” I warned him, but he was already edging forward, extending his hand.

“Here, one for each of you,” he said, and dropped the food before them.

Better and better, I thought, my excitement continuing to build. If we won over the dogs, we had a brighter chance of getting out of here.

“I wish I'd got to talk to Daddy,” Jeremy said. “I'd have told him to come and get us.”

“They wouldn't have let you,” I assured him. “Don't feed them any more now, wait until later. Maybe they'll let us out of here. If we're lucky, it may be only Dan who stays here while the others are out watching your father and collecting the ransom money. Maybe you can get him to play video games again, so he won't pay so much attention to the rest of us.”

“Are we going to escape?” Jeremy demanded.

“I don't know. Maybe we'll try, but you mustn't
say anything to make them suspicious,” I warned. “Don't let them know the dogs are beginning to trust us because we're feeding them. Come on, let's read some books for a while, to make the time pass faster.”

“Let's go up to the little playroom,” Melissa suggested.

“No. Not now. It'll be better if they don't know we've been up there,” I said, though I wasn't really certain why it should matter. It might make us look too adventurous, and I wanted them to think they had us too scared to think.

So the day passed slowly, ever so slowly. I thought about Mr. Foster and a suitcase full of money, and for the first time I realized that the Hazens were asking for a fortune. I didn't know the exact amount, but it was surely a lot of money. It wouldn't be right for them to get away with it.

The only good thing I could see coming out of it was that if they took the money and ran off to Mexico, they'd probably go without Diana, if nobody'd found her by now. I didn't think her mother would be mean to her; if her
father and brothers were gone, she'd be safe right here at home. I was glad for Diana, if she could stay hidden long enough; there wasn't yet a reason to be glad for the rest of us.

By late afternoon I'd run out of games to play and songs to sing, and my voice was hoarse from reading. Shana had fallen asleep on the mattress, and the other two were playing a game with some pictures I'd torn out of the magazines, when I heard the dogs growl.

Instantly alert, my heart in my throat, I waited. I didn't have to wait very long.

Pa Hazen's voice came from the foot of the stairs. “Come here and call off those blamed dogs! Whose side are they on, anyway?”

“Okie's side, I reckon,” Dan told him. “They never been around anybody but Okie and that granddaughter of his that was here a few weeks ago. They don't like strangers. Why don't you just stay away from those kids, Pa? I'll check, but I know they're still up there. They can't get past the dogs. You see how mean they are.”

Pa Hazen muttered what he thought of the
dogs, but he didn't come upstairs. It was Dan who appeared.

“I'm hungry,” Shana informed him, rubbing her eyes. The conversation had awakened her. She was adjusting to being kidnapped pretty well, I thought. Better than I was. I kept wondering if they would really let me go, when I could tell the police who they were. We were a long way from Mexico, and if the police knew which direction they were heading, they could stop them before they reached the border.

It gave me chills, thinking what the Hazens might do to prevent my telling anybody anything. I tried not to think about it.

“I'm hungry, too,” Melissa said. She wasn't as brave as Shana, though. She hung onto my hand whenever she spoke to our captors, as if she thought I could protect her, at least a little bit.

“I'm going out for food right now,” Dan told her. “I'll bring back something in about half an hour.”

As he turned and started down, Henry called to him. “The car's still spluttering. If
you're sure it's the fuel filter, maybe you'd better bring back a new one. You can change it before I leave tonight.”

I was glad when they'd all left us alone. The time was coming close, now, when we'd either be rescued, have to escape, or . . . whatever else was going to happen.

I didn't want to think about what that might be, so I concentrated on something else.

“Sit,” I said softly to the dogs, and they obeyed. Had they played with Okie's granddaughter when she came to visit? Was that why they liked Shana? Because they'd learned to like another little girl?

“Roll over,” Jeremy commanded, and the dogs rolled over.

Even Melissa got into it. “Down,” she said, and the Dobermans sank to the floor and rested their heads on their front paws.

Would they let me past them? I wondered, if I offered them a few more bits of dog food? Or would trying set them to barking and give away the fact that I wasn't as docile as I seemed to the Hazens?

It was too early to try anything. Dan had gone
off to town, but Henry and Pa Hazen, who struck me as much more dangerous, were in the house. I could hear their voices from time to time, though I couldn't make out what they said.

I'd hoped they'd let us go downstairs to eat again, but they didn't. Dan brought us a big red and white tub of fried chicken; it was only half-full, so I guessed the others had taken a share of it for themselves. There was cole slaw—none of the kids would touch it, and the dogs didn't want what I didn't eat, either—and potato salad and rolls.

We ate what we wanted, while the dogs watched us. I didn't want to give them chicken bones, but we gave them some skin and the remains of the rolls and a little bit of potato salad.

This time, I dished it out to them myself instead of letting Shana do it. They accepted me as if I'd been feeding them for some time, and gradually my hopes climbed.

Jeremy leaned over and asked me in a loud whisper, “When are we going to escape, Darcy? If we get away soon enough, Daddy won't have to give them the money, will he?”

“I don't know if we can get away that soon,” I told him. “Let's all be quiet for a while, now. I want to hear the car when it leaves, all right?”

Jeremy rose and went to the window, pressing his face against it. “I can see it. I can tell you when it leaves.”

“It may not leave until after dark. But if it does, let me know. When there's only Dan in the house—” I prayed that there would be a time when it was only Dan we'd have to contend with. “—maybe we'll have a chance.”

And at last the time came. It was just barely dark, and Shana had fallen asleep on the mattress; Melissa was nearly asleep, too. I was amazed at Jeremy's patience, standing looking downward into the side yard; and then he turned, speaking again in that loud whisper that could possibly have been understood out in the hallway.

“The car's driving away!”

“Could you see who got into it?”

“Two men,” Jeremy said readily. “I think it's Dan still here. Now can we escape?”

My breathing was suddenly very fast. “Now
we see if I can get past the dogs. You stay here and look after the girls, okay?”

His lower lip came out in a pout, the way Shana's sometimes did. “I want to go, too. They're asleep, so we'll have to come back after them if we find a way out, won't we? So why can't I come, too? I'll be real quiet, honest I will.”

I looked at him, afraid and uncertain, knowing that if I did the wrong thing this time, it was possible that none of us would ever get home again.

“Well, let me see first if the dogs will let me past. Give me a little bit of the dog food.”

He handed it over, and feeling as if my heart was in my mouth, I took a few cautious steps toward the two huge dogs at the top of the stairs.

The dogs didn't move, and they didn't growl as I approached. I spoke softly to them, while they kept their ears pricked up and waited.

I hoped I wasn't making a mistake, putting out a hand very slowly with the dog food on it, because if I was, it would be a
big
mistake. I had to try it, though. If the dogs wouldn't allow me down those stairs, I didn't see what I could possibly do to get us out of this mess.

The nearest dog turned his head slightly toward me as I moved my hand within a couple of inches of his nose—and those sharp teeth—and held it there. “You want some?” I asked, almost in a whisper.

For a few seconds nothing happened, and then the dog stretched his neck and sniffed my hand.

“Go ahead,” I told him, “take it.”

It was a very peculiar feeling when his tongue touched my palm, and then the dog food was gone. I still had my fingers, I thought, elated, and tried the same thing with the other dog.