Case File 13 #2 (12 page)

Dana checked her watch. “Whatever we're going to do, we have to decide quickly. The train will be here in a few minutes and my parents will ground me if I'm not home by ten.”

Carter pointed to a pay phone. “We can make an anonymous call. Just say we saw some kid yelling for help at Sumina Prep. The police will check it out, discover what they're up to there, and rescue Frankenstein.”

Nick nodded. That did sound like the best idea. “Who's going to make the call?”

“I will,” Angie said. She went to the phone, picked up the receiver, and dialed 911 while the other kids crowded around her. “Hello?” she said, sounding breathless and panicked. “I just saw a boy screaming for help outside Sumina Preparatory Academy. I think he might have been kidnapped.” She gave a little sob that sounded completely believable.

And why not? They'd just seen something so terrifying, Nick was still trying to convince himself it couldn't have been real.

“My name?” Angie said into the phone. Angelo shook his head. “Kimber Tidwell. The boy who was screaming is Cody Gills, he goes to my school.”

Carter chuckled. Kimber Tidwell was the most popular girl at their school and the only kid who cared more about fashion than Tiffany.

“Kimber Tidwell,” Angie repeated. “T-I-D-W-E-L-L. My address? Why do you need to know my address? This happened at Sumina Prep.” Overhead, the tracks began to rumble and the light of a train could be seen in the distance. Dana tugged Angie's jacket and pointed to her watch.

“I have to go,” Angie said. “But please check on him right away. I think he's in danger. There's some weird stuff going on at that school. No. I'm sorry. I can't stay on the line.”

“Let's go,” Dana yelled as soon as Angie hung up the phone. The six of them raced up the stairs with Angelo clinging to Nick's shoulder for guidance. They reached the platform just in time to get onto the train before the doors closed.

“Are you sure it was a good idea to give them a real name?” Nick panted, dropping into his seat.

Angie took the seat across from him. “They wouldn't have taken me seriously if I didn't. And if Cody does end up missing, at least they'll know what school he goes to when they look up his name and Kimber's.”

Nick pulled his knees up to his chest, wrapping his arms around his legs. Everything about this night had gone wrong. And even though Cody had beaten him up in the past more times than he could count, and was a total pain in the rear now, he couldn't help feeling like a coward for not going after him.

“It's going to be okay,” Angelo said, patting him on the shoulder. “I'll bet Cody shows up tomorrow, making us promise to never do anything like that again.”

But Cody wasn't at school the next day. Nick came up with several excuses to go to his classroom and every time he saw Cody's empty desk he felt more and more ill. At lunch the six of them went to the school's computer lab and searched for any news about Cody or Sumina Prep. But the only stories that came up for Sumina were about the game. There was no mention of Cody at all.

“Maybe he stayed home sick,” Carter suggested as the six of them sat on the edge of the playground eating their lunches. “I know I had a pretty bad night.”

“It doesn't seem to have affected your appetite,” Angie said.

Carter screwed up his face, then stared longingly at Nick's orange cupcake. Nick ignored him. “I'm going to Cody's house after school to check on him.”

“Technically, that might not be the best option,” said Angelo, who was wearing a pair of tortoiseshell glasses with tinted lenses. Apparently his mother had purchased them for him a few months earlier, but he had refused to even try them on. Now they were his only choice until she could order him another pair. “If he
is
missing, it might look suspicious, you showing up at his house the very next day.”

“So you want to do nothing? Pretend like last night never happened?” Nick slammed his fist on his lunch, mashing his cupcake into a smear of orange frosting and crumbs inside the plastic wrapper.

“Oh-h-h,” Carter groaned. He picked up the flattened cupcake, turned it over in his hands, and said, “I think it's still edible.”

“What choice do we have?” Angie asked. “If we tell anyone we broke into the school, we'll get in trouble. And without Tiffany's pictures, we have no proof anything happened at all.”

Tiffany, who looked completely lost without her phone, fiddled with her necklace. “The good news is the police haven't shown up asking any questions. And the school would be buzzing if anyone had contacted Kimber.”

“All that means is the police didn't take our call seriously,” Nick said. He watched Carter trying to suck cupcake crumbs out of the package and balled his fists. “Fine, I'll wait until tomorrow. If Cody isn't back by then, I'm going to his house. And if he's not there . . .” He wasn't sure what he'd do if Cody hadn't come home from Sumina Prep. But one thing he was sure of was that he couldn't just sit around and wait for word that something terrible had happened.

That night, all he could think about was Cody and what might be happening to him. As far as he had seen, they only experimented on dead bodies at Sumina. But what if that wasn't the case? What if right now, Frankenstein was strapped to a table while the Pale One shocked and probed him?

“Up for an episode of
Supernatural
?” his dad asked, turning on the TV. “I recorded it while you were at the game.”

“I don't think so,” Nick said. “Maybe I'll just go lie down.”

Dad came over and put a hand on his head. “Give it to me straight. Are you dying of some rare tropical disease?”

“Huh?” Nick asked.

Dad plopped onto the couch beside him. “I've never seen you turn down the chance to watch a scary show. I taped it especially because I know how much you like it. So either you're dying, or there's something on your mind. Which is it?”

Nick wished he could tell his dad the truth. It would be so nice to confess to a grown-up and let them figure it out. But that would mean ratting on his friends. And even if his dad believed him, which wasn't likely, what could he do about it?

“It's the disease,” Nick said, trying to give a convincing smile. “I've got two weeks to live. But don't worry. I left you my Tales from the Crypt comic-book collection.”

He went up to his room before his dad could ask him any more questions. But he didn't sleep well that night. And when Cody wasn't in class the next morning, he made his decision.

“I'm going,” he told the other kids at the first recess.

Carter gulped, his Adam's apple bobbing up and down. “I'll go too.”

Angelo pushed his glasses up on his nose. “I'll go.”

Angie looked at Dana and Tiffany, who nodded. “Okay. We're in.”

Nick walked along the sidewalk with his head down. Frankenstein's house had always been a place kids avoided at all costs and here he was walking straight to it. He wasn't sure what he'd say when he reached it. What if the police were there? After two days of Cody being missing, someone must have called them.

“Your mom still hasn't got you the new glasses, huh?” Carter asked Angelo.

Angelo shook his head. “She requested them, but the lenses won't be ready until Friday. They're special order.”

“I like these ones,” Tiffany said. “They give you a Justin Bieber vibe.”

Carter chortled and started singing in a completely off-key voice. “You know you love me, I know you ca-air-air. Cause I have stinky underwear-r-r-r.”

Tiffany frowned. “That's not the way it goes.”

“It should,” Carter said. “When I'm a famous musician, all of my songs will include underwear, farting, and the occasional armpit noise.”

“If you're ever a famous musician,” Tiffany said, “I'm going have to my ears permanently sealed closed.”

Carter grinned. “All the more reason.”

Even Carter's joking couldn't shake Nick from the funk he was in.

“It's not your fault,” Angie said.

Nick grunted and turned away.

Angie moved to stand in front of him. “It's not any of our faults. We didn't ask him to come with us. We called the police. What more could we have done?”

A couple of little kids zipped by on scooters, pretending to shoot each other with squirt guns. How would it feel to have your biggest worry in the world be whether to watch Nickelodeon or the Cartoon Network? “We could have gone back for him,” he muttered.

“Then we'd all be wherever he is,” Angie said. “Is that what you want?”

Nick gritted his teeth. He didn't know what he wanted. Angie was probably right. What chance did six kids have against whatever lived in that school, or castle, or whatever it was? Running had been their only choice. So why did he feel like crap?

“What do you think he was doing in there?” he asked. “In that lab, with the electricity?”

“No clue,” Angie said.

Nick wondered if she'd seen what he thought he'd seen. But the idea of a leg walking by itself was too crazy to consider. Obviously it was some kind of trick. Or maybe he'd seen it from a bad angle. Since no one else had mentioned it, he figured he must have been the only one.

Cody lived in a small one-story house with peeling metal siding. The front lawn was mowed almost to the dirt, which seemed sort of pointless since it looked like it was mostly weeds. A tiny dog with a face like a rat jumped off the porch and started yapping at the kids as they started up the walkway.

Carter ran toward it waving his arms and yelled, “Boogetta, boogetta, boogetta.” The dog skidded to a halt, yelped, and retreated around the side of the house.

“I see you're as good with animals as you are with people,” Tiffany said.

“Pretty much,” Carter said, either missing her sarcasm or choosing to ignore it. “I'm kind of like a dog whisperer. Only in reverse.”

Nick was working up the courage to approach the porch when the front door flew open and an old man in baggy pants and a dirty T-shirt peered out. “Who's bothering my dog?” he shouted.

Carter started whistling his underwear song and pretended to study the lawn.

“We were looking for Frank—” Nick started before realizing what he'd almost said. “Umm, Cody.”

The old man put a hand to one of his large, wrinkled ears. “Frank Cody, you say? Don't know no Frank Cody.”

“He means Cody Gills,” Angie said, stepping up beside him. Nick was grateful for her help. “Is he home?”

The old man's upper lip curled, revealing a set of clearly false teeth. “Who's asking?”

Nick looked to Angie and she rolled her eyes. If this was Cody's dad, no wonder he was angry all the time. “Umm, us?” he ventured.

The man scratched his chin like he was thinking that over. Although what little hair he had on his head was white, the long scraggly whiskers poking out from his chin were red. “He ain't here,” he said at last. He gave his sagging pants a yank and turned to walk back into the house.

“Wait!” Nick called.

The man turned halfway around in the doorway as if he wasn't sure whether it was worth his time to come out again or not.

Dana quickly walked up, holding out her hand. “I'm Dana Lyon,” she said, smiling broadly.

She was about six inches taller than the man, and he looked her up and down dubiously. “Big old bean plant, ain't you?”

“I guess,” Dana said, trying to keep the smile on her face. “Are you Cody's father?”

“Grandfather,” the man snapped. “On his mother's side. He stole your bike or roughed you up, I don't want to hear about it. Boy's never been nothing but trouble.”

“What's he done now?” a voice shouted from inside the house. “If it's the police, tell them to throw him in jail and toss away the key.”

So many things about Cody began to make sense. No wonder he was always prowling around the neighborhood. Who'd want to live with people like this? “He didn't take our bikes and he didn't . . .
rough us up
,” Nick said.

“At least not lately,” Carter mumbled, and Nick shot him a warning look.

“We just haven't seen him at school and we wanted to make sure he's okay. We're kind of his friends,” Nick said. It wasn't totally a lie, either. As much of a pain as Cody was, Nick had sort of gotten used to him. He thought Carter and Angelo might feel the same way, although they'd never actually discussed it.

“
Friends
?” the old man asked, as though he'd never heard the word before. He narrowed his eyes. “Since when does that troublemaker have friends?”

“If it's the school,” the voice from the inside of the house shrilled, “tell them we haven't seen him!”

“He isn't a troublemaker anymore. He's changed,” Angelo said. “Have you even called the police to report that he's missing?”