Spy Cat (9 page)

Perhaps I should go next door, she thought. But the last pan of cookies still had six minutes to bake, and she didn’t like to leave the house when the oven was turned on.

She dialed the Kendrills’ number and got an answering machine. She did not leave a message.

She waited a couple of minutes and dialed again but hung up when the machine clicked on.

The oven timer rang. Mrs. Sunburg turned the oven off and put the cookies to cool with the others.

She stepped out to the front porch and listened for the sound of the departing school bus. She heard only the distant drone of a jet plane high overhead.

The Kendrills didn’t seem like the kind of people who would make arrangements for her to watch their child and then not bother to call when she wasn’t needed. The more she thought about it, the more uneasy she became.

Feeling both disappointed and apprehensive, she poured herself a cup of coffee and sampled a snickerdoodle. She would wait another five minutes. If Benjie still hadn’t come, she would go over there and look for him.

*   *   *

Benjie knew that he couldn’t let the bad guys see him. Mom and Dad and Alex had said the bad guys wouldn’t kidnap anyone, but Benjie wasn’t taking any chances. He decided to hide in the bushes until they left; then he would go in and call 911 before he ran to Mrs. Sunburg’s house.

With his heart still pounding, Benjie jumped off the side of the porch. He dropped to his hands and knees and crawled behind the laurel bushes that lined the front of his house. He had to lie almost flat because the laurel bushes weren’t very big yet. Mom had planted them last summer.

I should have gone to Mrs. Sunburg’s house instead of coming home, Benjie thought. Mom told me I was supposed to go there today. She told me she wouldn’t be home.

Benjie tried to hear what the burglars were saying or doing, but all he heard was a pair of crows cawing in the trees behind his house.

The damp dirt had a rich earthy smell. I’m wrecking my school clothes, Benjie thought. Mom’s going to be mad when she sees mud on my good shirt.

Still the bad guys did not come out. Were they putting everything from the Kendrills’ kitchen into boxes so they could steal it all?

Benjie hoped they didn’t take the rooster cookie jar or Mom’s china dishes. The set of dishes had belonged to Benjie’s grandmother, and when she died, Benjie’s mom had brought the dishes home and displayed them in a special cupboard that had glass doors. The pattern was called Buttercup and Mom always used them on Thanksgiving and Mother’s Day.

If the bad guys took Mom’s Buttercup dishes, Mom would be sad, and if they took the rooster cookie jar, Benjie would be sad.

Maybe I should run to Mrs. Sunburg’s house now, Benjie thought, before the van leaves. If I call the police while the bad guys are still here, the police might catch them on
their way out of Valley View Estates, and we’d get all of our things back.

He wished he had left his shoes on. He could run faster in them than he could in his socks.

Benjie slithered like a snake behind the bushes, keeping his head down and pulling himself forward with his arms until he reached the corner of the house that was closest to Mrs. Sunburg’s house. The laurel branches scratched the back of his neck and snagged his shirt as he crept along. Small rocks and twigs dug into his forearms.

At the corner, he looked toward the trees and shrubs that divided the two homes. An area of grass stretched between Benjie’s house and the trees. If he ran out there in the open, the bad guys might see him. Even if they stayed inside, they might look out the window.

What if they had guns?

Benjie shuddered. He would be an easy target, out in the grass.

Mom would be sad if she lost her Buttercup china, but Benjie knew she’d rather lose the dishes than lose him. People and animals are more important than things. He needed to save himself, and Lizzy, and Pete. He hoped Pete was in the house, hiding on top of the piano or under the table.

Instead of running to Mrs. Sunburg’s house now, he decided to wait until the bad guys left. He would spy on
them from the bushes and make sure they didn’t steal Lizzy. He would memorize what they looked like so he could give a clear description of them to the police.

He wished he had his spy backpack with him, but even without it, he knew what to do. His best spy book told how to be a good witness, and Benjie had read it so many times, he knew it by heart.

He would stay hidden and look carefully at the men so that he could describe them accurately. Good spies notice details, and that’s what Benjie intended to do. Good spies use their ears as well as their eyes. They even pay attention to smells. Benjie inhaled several times. He didn’t smell anything except dirt.

Satisfied that he had made the right decision, Benjie crawled along the edge of the house toward the front door and waited for the men to come out.

He didn’t have to wait long.

B
enjie heard the
bad guys come out of the house. Lying on his stomach, he peered cautiously
between the laurel branches, trying to get a good look at the burglars without being seen himself.

Two men crossed the narrow porch toward the steps. The taller of the two wore a red-and-black plaid shirt. He closed the door of the house; Benjie heard it click. The other man’s T-shirt protruded out over the top of his pants, which rode low on his hips. He had what Benjie’s dad would call “a serious case of beer belly.”

Details, Benjie told himself. Remember the details. They both wore faded jeans. The tall one had on a floppy brown hat; the chunky one had a stubbly beard. Both wore sturdy work boots that laced.

The bearded one carried a large cardboard box. Benjie couldn’t see what was in it, but he could tell from the way the man moved that it was heavy.

“Be careful with those dishes,” the tall one said. “They’ll be worth more if they aren’t chipped.”

Mom’s Buttercup, Benjie thought. Those mean men were stealing Mom’s good dishes.

The men moved out of Benjie’s line of sight, but he didn’t dare shift position to keep watching them. He heard a van door shut and knew it was the rear door, where they had loaded everything in. He waited to give them time to get in themselves, but he didn’t hear the other doors close.

As he thought about the van, he realized that he had forgotten the most important thing. He needed to get the number from the license plate. Then, as soon as the bad guys drove away, he could go inside and call the police and report what the van looked like and the license number, and the police would find it for sure.

I should have looked at the number right away while the bad guys were still in the kitchen, Benjie thought. Well, it wasn’t too late. The van was still here.

Benjie eased his head from behind the bush, far enough so he could see the truck’s license plate. 0 9 4 X C L.

Benjie found a twig and began scratching the numbers in the dirt under the laurel bush. If it was written down, he wouldn’t forget it. 0 . . . 9 . . . 4 . . . As he worked, a dog barked somewhere in the next block. Benjie wished Rufus would come here and bark at the bad men and alert Mrs. Sunburg.

He formed the numbers carefully. He could hear the men talking as he worked, but he concentrated on his printing and didn’t pay attention to what they said.

As he started to print the
X
, the twig snapped. Benjie held his breath, fearing the men had heard it and would come to investigate, but they didn’t.

*   *   *

Pete finished the hamburger
,
tried one more time to open the glove compartment
,
and then jumped on the back of the seat. He needed to wash his whiskers
,
but he would do that after he got outside. He wished he had found something that would identify the crooks
,
but at least he’d had a good meal.

The back of the van was full now. The thieves had even taken the grandfather clock. Pete could no longer get to the floor or squeeze between the items. There were too many things crammed into the van
,
and Pete’s stomach bulged from the hamburger and french fries.

He had to walk on top of the television set
,
then pick his way across the boxes. He was balanced on the handlebars of Alex’s bike when he heard the men coming. Pete hunkered down
,
hoping they wouldn’t notice him.

“
You drive
,”
one man said.
“
I never had a chance to eat my lunch
,
and I’m starving.
” He set one more box in the van.

The back door of the van slammed shut.

I should have left sooner
,
Pete thought. I could have carried
the hamburger in my teeth and eaten it outside the van. Now I’ll have to jump past one of the men in order to get out.

Pete turned quickly and went toward the front again
,
planning to jump out when the man opened the door. I’ll catapult past him
,
Pete thought. It’s a good thing I’ve been practicing.

Before Pete could get into position
,
the door on the passenger’s side opened.

“
Hey!
”
the man said.
“
Somebody swiped my lunch.
”

“
What are you talking about?
”
the second man said.
“
Who would want a cold hamburger?
”

“
Look at this! I left my burger and a box of french fries on the seat
,
and some lowlife got in here and ate them.
”

Pete crouched on top of Alex’s bike
,
as close to the front as he could get without being seen. Both men now stood on the same side of the van
,
with the door open. Pete watched them over the top of the seat back
,
waiting for his chance to jump out without getting caught.

“
Whoever it was made a mess
,”
said the bearded man.
“
There’s pieces of paper all over
,
as if he didn’t bother to unwrap the burger before he bit into it.
”

“
Maybe it was a dog.
”

“
How would a dog get in here?
”
Using his fingers like a rake
,
the bearded man brushed the pieces of wrapper from his seat to the Kendrills’ driveway. He leaned toward the floor and gathered the empty bag
,
the french-fry carton
,
the
rest of the bits of wrapper
,
and all the candy wrappers and other trash that was there. He tossed it all outside. Let somebody else clean it up.

“
It doesn’t matter who did it
,”
the tall man said.
“
What matters is that we need to get a move on. You can buy another lunch after we unload.
”

“
I wanted this lunch
,”
the bearded man grumbled.
“
I’ve been thinking about those french fries the whole time we loaded the van.
”
He picked up more bits of wrapper and dropped them outside the van.

Through the windshield
,
Pete watched the tall man walk around the front of the van to the driver’s side. When he saw the man’s hand reach for the door handle
,
Pete jumped to the top of the seat back and got ready to catapult. He would launch himself at flying speed and be gone before the man could react.

The instant the door opened
,
Pete took off
,
shoving his hind legs hard into the seat and stretching his front paws forward. As Pete reached the opening
,
the man ducked down to sit in the van. Instead of flying past the man and landing on the driveway
,
as Pete had planned
,
he crashed into the man’s shoulder.

“
Yow!
”
Pete yelled as he fell back on to the seat.

“
Hey!
”
said the tall man as he straightened up and rubbed his shoulder. He stood beside the van
,
put both hands on the seat
,
and leaned in toward Pete.

“
Here’s your culprit
,”
he said to his partner.
“
A cat ate your lunch.
”

Pete hissed at the man
,
his ears flat
,
and his tail waving back and forth like a windshield wiper. Could he make it if he tried to jump again now? He didn’t think so. The door was open
,
but the man’s body blocked too much of the space.

Pete hopped to the floor between the two seats. He didn’t like to turn his back on the first man
,
especially when the man was so close
,
but maybe he had a better chance of escaping out the other side.

As Pete looked that way
,
the bearded man got into the passenger’s seat. At the same time the tall man sat behind the steering wheel. Pete was trapped in the space between the two seats.

The bearded man glared at Pete as he slammed the door shut.
“
I think I’ll teach this cat a lesson
,”
he said.
“
He ate every single one of my fries!
”

“
We aren’t hanging around here while you take revenge on a stupid cat
,”
the tall man said as he pulled his door closed.

“
I’m not stupid
,”
Pete said.
“
I’ll match my IQ to yours
,
any day.
”

“
I didn’t mean now
,”
the bearded man said.
“
I’ll do it later.
”

Do what? Pete wondered. He didn’t like these men
,
not one bit. He leaped onto the dashboard and stomped back and forth.
“
Open the door!
”
Pete yelled.
“
Let me out!
”

“
I’m not taking a cat with us
,”
the tall man said.
“
Are you nuts? All we need is a cat howling and attracting attention. Listen to him: he sounds as if he’s being tortured and you haven’t laid a hand on him yet.
”