Abduction! (5 page)

“The police are coming,” she said when she hung up.

Teachers wove in and out of the office, asking if Matt had been found yet. Several walked back through every room in the school again, checking closets, restrooms, and the cafeteria for any sign of the missing boy. By the time the police arrived, the staff felt positive Matt was not on the school grounds.

The policeman, Officer Calvin, asked the same questions Mr. Quinn had asked, plus a few more.

“Would he have left the school grounds by himself? To buy candy, perhaps?”

“Absolutely not,” Mrs. Sholter said.

“Would he have left with someone else—maybe accepted a ride home?”

“No,” Mrs. Sholter said.

“He always rides the bus with me,” Bonnie said.

“Did anyone other than staff come to the school this afternoon?”

Mrs. Williams said, “A parent picked up a sick child, a volunteer came to hear the first-graders read, and a package was delivered to the library.”

“I didn’t get any package today,” Mrs. Payton said.

Everyone turned to look at the librarian.

Mrs. Williams picked up the sign-in sheet. “A delivery man came at two twenty-five, with a box for the library. He signed in and took a visitor’s badge, and I told him how to find the library.” She frowned. “He didn’t sign out, though. I didn’t notice before; he never signed out.” She counted the badges in a small box next to the sign-in sheet. “He didn’t return the badge, either.”

“I never got a delivery,” Mrs. Payton repeated.

Officer Calvin asked, “What company was the deliveryman with?”

“UPS,” Mrs. Williams said. “He said he had a package for the library and—”

“Are you sure he said UPS?” Officer Calvin asked. “Was it the regular driver?”

Mrs. Williams ran one hand nervously through her hair. “I didn’t recognize him, but he said he was from UPS. He carried a box and a clipboard, and he had on a brown UPS uniform.”

“Did you see his truck?” the officer asked.

“I didn’t look for his truck.”

“Would someone call UPS, please?” Officer Calvin said.

Mr. Quinn looked up the UPS number and called. It took a while to get a live person on the line, but when he did, he explained what had happened. He gave the
school’s address. Then he put one hand over the telephone mouthpiece and whispered, “She’s checking.”

A moment later he said, “Are you certain?” Then, after a pause, he said, “Thank you. Yes, I’ll let you know.”

Even before Mr. Quinn hung up, Bonnie knew from his expression what he was going to say.

“UPS had no delivery scheduled here today,” Mr. Quinn reported.

Mrs. Williams covered her mouth with one hand, her eyes brimming with tears.

“This isn’t your fault,” Mr. Quinn said. “You had no reason to suspect the man wasn’t who he said he was.”

“He lied,” Mrs. Jules said. “Maybe he came here to try to steal a child and he saw Matt alone.”

Bonnie’s throat felt tight, the way it always did when she came down with a bad cold.

Officer Calvin said, “It appears Matt was by himself at the wrong time.”

Mr. Quinn pounded his fist on the countertop. “We tried to have good security,” he said. “We tried to prevent something like this. We even had an assembly on what to do and say if approached by a stranger.”

“It’s hard to prevent every possibility,” the officer said.

“Matt
KNOWS
not to go anywhere with a stranger,” Mrs. Sholter said. “We talked about it many times. He’s been told to scream and run away if anyone tries to take him.”

“None of the staff noticed anything unusual,” Mr. Quinn said. “Nobody heard Matt yell.”

“He would never leave with someone he doesn’t know,” Bonnie insisted.

The police officer shook his head. “Even kids who know better sometimes get tricked,” he said. “The man probably lied to him, and Matt believed what he was told.”

“Are you saying you think Matt went willingly?” Mrs. Sholter asked.

“It happens, even with kids who’ve been taught all the right things. The trouble is, we can’t figure out in advance what some crook might say.”

“I can’t believe Matt would do that.”

Bonnie couldn’t believe it, either.

“I’ll need a photo of Matt as soon as possible,” Officer Calvin said, “and a full description, including the clothes he wore today. I believe this case warrants issuing an Amber Alert.”

“What’s that?” asked Bonnie.

“Matt’s description will be broadcast immediately on the emergency alert network. It’s the system
used for severe weather emergencies such as torna does or a volcanic eruption. An Amber Alert will get Matt’s description out to the public instantly with messages on the highway reader boards and on radio and TV. Thousands of people will be looking for him within an hour.”

“Thank you,” Mrs. Sholter said.

“I wish we could broadcast a description of the abductor or the vehicle Matt left in. More than once a motorist has spotted a car that police were looking for and called to report its location. But a good description of the boy might be enough.”

Mrs. Sholter opened her wallet, took out a picture of Matt, and handed it to Officer Calvin.

“When was this taken?” he asked.

“Two weeks ago.”

“Good. You wouldn’t believe how many parents don’t have a recent picture of their kids. One woman gave me a snapshot taken at her daughter’s third birthday party; the girl was ten years old when she disappeared.”

Bonnie said, “Mom’s always taking pictures of us, for our scrapbooks and to send to our grandparents.”

“We’ll put Matt’s picture on the TV news and give it to the papers. Pictures work. People see a photo of a
cute kid like this, and they pay attention. They look for him.”

“I always thought the police waited twenty-four hours to declare a person missing,” Mr. Quinn said.

“An adult, yes. Adults often leave home voluntarily without telling anyone. In a case like this, with a child, the faster we move, the better. We don’t use the Amber Alert often, but I think it’s justified today.”

“What can we do to help?” Bonnie asked.

“First tell me what Matt was wearing.”

Mrs. Sholter said, “Jeans, a blue Mariners T-shirt, and white shoes—the kind with heels that light up when you walk.”

“As soon as I call this in, I’d like to bring a police dog to your home and let him sniff Matt’s clothes—maybe the pajamas he slept in last night.”

“Of course,” Mrs. Sholter said. She gave the address.

Bonnie could tell Mom was struggling to keep her emotions under control. Her voice sounded tight, and she kept fingering the strap on her shoulder bag.

“Do you want to ride with me?” the officer asked. “Or would you like me to follow you?”

“I’ll drive; you can follow me,” Mrs. Sholter said. “I’ll need to have my car.”

“Is there anything more any of us can do?” Mr. Quinn asked.

“Please stay here,” the officer said. “Another officer will be here shortly, to question everyone and to get a description of the man who claimed to be with UPS.”

Mrs. Williams said, “I know exactly what he looked like. He had curly black hair and a mustache and there was a tattoo of a flower on one arm—a rose, I think. I’d recognize him, or his picture.”

“Why would anyone take Matt?” Bonnie asked.

“Because he happened to be there,” Officer Calvin said. “A crime of opportunity.”

Bonnie and her mother rode home without talking. The police car followed. Usually Mrs. Sholter parked in the garage, but this time she pulled up in front of the house. Officer Calvin parked behind her. She opened the front door and motioned for the police officer to come inside as a second squad car parked behind the first one.

“The Amber Alert has gone out,” Officer Calvin said. Then he introduced Detective Morrison.

“I have a canine partner,” Detective Morrison said. “I’d like to bring him in, and let him smell clothing Matt wore recently.”

“You’d better shut Pookie in the kitchen,” Mrs. Sholter told Bonnie. “He’s still asleep, but he might smell another dog and get in the way.”

“Pookie’s your dog?” Officer Calvin said.

“Not much of a watchdog, I’m afraid,” Mrs. Sholter said.

“He’s old,” Bonnie explained. “He doesn’t see or hear very well, but he’s a great dog.”

Detective Morrison went out to get her K-9 dog.

Bonnie headed for Pookie’s basket in the kitchen. When it was empty, she looked under the dining-room table and in her bedroom. She checked all of Pookie’s favorite napping spots, then checked the backyard. She whistled and called.

Bonnie rushed back into the living room. “Mom!” she said. “Pookie’s gone!”

P
ookie’s gone?” Mrs. Sholter repeated, as if she couldn’t possibly have heard correctly.

“I looked in his bed,” Bonnie said, “and under the table where he likes to sleep, and then I looked in the backyard. He isn’t here.”

“Could he have gotten out of the yard accidentally?” Officer Calvin asked. “Is there a gate that might have been left open?”

“There is a gate,” Mrs. Sholter said, “but we only use it when we put the trash can in the alley for the trash collector.”

“The gate’s closed,” Bonnie said. “I checked.”

“Might someone have let him out on purpose? A neighbor, perhaps? Does Pookie bark a lot?”

Bonnie could follow Officer Calvin’s thoughts. “Pookie hardly ever barks anymore,” she said. “If someone came in the yard, he probably wouldn’t even notice.”

“If he did, he’d wag his tail and hope to get petted,” Mrs. Sholter said.

Detective Morrison returned with a German shepherd. “This is Spike,” she said.

“The family dog is missing,” Officer Calvin said.

Bonnie saw the two police officers exchange a glance, the significant kind of look adults give each other when they know something the kids don’t know.

Fear had flickered at the edge of Bonnie’s mind all morning, but it had been a dull fear, without a name. As she looked at Pookie’s empty bed, a sharp, specific fear wrapped around her. Matt was missing, and so was Pookie. What if they never came home? She might never see her brother or her dog again. The tears Bonnie had successfully held back at school now spilled out.

“Do you think Pookie’s disappearance is connected to Matt’s?” Mrs. Sholter asked the police.

“It might be,” Detective Morrison said.

“Let’s make sure the dog isn’t here,” Officer Calvin said.

A thorough search of the house and yard turned up
no Pookie, nor did it yield any sign the house had been broken into.

Bonnie and her mom called Pookie, both in the alley and up and down the sidewalk in the front of the house, in case he had somehow been let out. Pookie did not come.

“Let’s have Spike smell those pajamas,” Detective Morrison said. “Then I’ll take him over to the school.”

Bonnie led everyone upstairs to Matt’s bedroom. “He keeps his pajamas under his pillow,” she said.

“Don’t touch them,” Detective Morrison cautioned. She lifted the pillow. Matt’s pajamas were scrunched into a ball, as usual.

When Mrs. Sholter saw them, she started to cry.

Detective Morrison led Spike toward the bed and pointed.

The dog sniffed the pajamas.

“Matt,” said Detective Morrison. “Find Matt.” She put Matt’s pajamas in a bag and took them with her. She and Spike returned to their car and drove away.

“Does anyone else have a house key?” Officer Calvin asked Mrs. Sholter.

“Bonnie has one.”

Bonnie held up the chain she wore around her neck; the key dangled from the chain.

“We also have one hidden outside. We put it there after I accidentally locked myself out.”

“Let’s see if it’s still there,” Officer Calvin said. “I hope you don’t keep it under the doormat. Thieves look there first.”

Bonnie and her mom went out the kitchen door, followed by the police officer. Bonnie counted five fence boards from the corner, then picked up a small rock from the base of the fence. The extra key was taped to the bottom of the rock.

“It’s here,” she said.

“Who else has a key?” Officer Calvin asked. “Your husband?”

“I’m single.”

“Ex-husband?”

Mrs. Sholter leaned against the fence as if her legs were too weak to hold her up. “My first husband, Bonnie’s father, was a firefighter who died when a burning roof collapsed on him. I married again two years later, but the marriage was a disaster and I filed for divorce after only three months. Seven months later, Matt was born.”

“What is Matt’s father’s name?”

“Denny Thurman.”

“Is this where you lived with him?”

“No. I bought this house two years ago.”

“Has there been a recent disagreement about Matt’s custody or visitation rights or support payments?”

“Denny has no visiting rights,” Mrs. Sholter said, “and I didn’t ask him to pay child support. He wouldn’t admit the baby was his; as soon as he found out I was pregnant, he vanished, and I haven’t heard from him since.”

“Then you don’t think he might have taken Matt?”

“No. He doesn’t like kids; that was one of our problems.”

“I didn’t like him, either,” Bonnie said. “I was glad when he left.”

Officer Calvin nodded as if to say
I DON
’
T BLAME YOU
.