Spy Cat (14 page)

He went back to the front of the house and sat on the bottom step, waiting for the people to come out. It seemed to take much too long. What are they doing in there? Pete wondered.

This calls for drastic action, Pete decided. He had to make one of the people look at what he’d found. He threw back his head and shrieked his most bloodcurdling yowl, the one that made it sound as if he were being attacked by a mountain lion.

Alex flung open the door and rushed out, followed by Rocky. They stopped when they saw Pete on the step.
“
What’s the matter with you?
”
Alex said.
“
Get inside.
”

Pete backed out of Alex’s reach.

“
Is he hurt?
”
Rocky asked.
“
My mom’s home. She could drive him to the vet.
”

“
I’m not going to the vet.
”
Pete went into the bushes again.
“
Look what I found
,”
he said.

“
If he won’t come in
,”
Alex said
, “
I’m not chasing him.
”
He slammed the door shut.

Pete forgave Alex for being cranky. He knew Alex was worried about Benjie. People, like cats, are not at their best when they’re upset, and they sometimes say things they regret later.

Pete sat down on the step and washed his sore ear while he waited.

At last the door opened, and Sheriff Alvored came out. He stood in the open doorway talking to Mr. and Mrs. Kendrill, who were behind him.

Sheriff Alvored had a colored photo of Benjie in one hand. He held it up, turning it to the light so that he got a better view.

“It’s good to have such a recent picture,” he said. “I’ve had cases where the only photo the parents had of their child was two or three years old. Kids change a lot in two or three years. This will help a lot.”

Pete looked at the sheriff, and at the photo. He could think of only one way to make the people follow him into the bushes so they would find the writing in the dirt.

Pete took a deep breath and clenched his teeth, knowing it would hurt his sore leg to push off hard enough to jump as high as he needed to go. It’s a good thing he had practiced catapulting every day.

He stared at the sheriff’s hand, taking aim.

As the sheriff examined Benjie’s picture, Pete soared upward.

Mrs. Kendrill screamed.

Thud! Pete hit the sheriff’s chest, right above his badge. The sheriff automatically raised the hand that held the photo, to protect himself, while the other hand went for the gun in his holster. As Pete dropped backward, he snatched the picture in his teeth.

Pete landed on his side, sending a sharp pain through his shoulder, but he couldn’t stop yet. He rolled off the edge of the porch toward the laurel bush, still holding the picture of Benjie in his teeth. He carried it under the bush, where the people couldn’t reach it without coming close to the writing.

All the people talked at once.

“What was that?” said Deputy Flick as he stepped outside and aimed his gun into the bushes toward Pete.

“Don’t shoot!” said Alex. “It’s my cat!”

“What is he, an attack cat?” asked Deputy Flick.

“He took the picture of Benjie,” Sheriff Alvored said, shaking his head as if he didn’t quite believe what had just happened. “Grabbed it right out of my hand before I could react.”

“Pete’s gone crazy,” Mr. Kendrill said. “Why would he take Benjie’s picture?”

“He’s never done anything like that before,” Mrs. Kendrill told Sheriff Alvored. “Are you all right?”

“I’m fine. He startled me, that’s all, flying at me out of the blue like that. I saw him sitting there, but I thought he was a pet cat.”

“He is,” Alex said. “But he’s acted crazy ever since I got home. He’s scratched and limping and there’s a tuft of fur missing on his neck. Something happened to him this afternoon.”

“
Come here!
”
yelled Pete.
“
Come in the bushes.
”

“Alex,” Mrs. Kendrill said, “get that picture away from Pete. Then bring him inside and lock him in the bathroom. We have enough trouble right now without him causing more.”

“You sure that isn’t some kind of wild cat?” Deputy Flick said. “Listen to him. It’s enough to wake the dead.”

“He’s scared,” Alex said.

Alex and Rocky walked past the sheriff and his deputy, who were putting their guns away, and stepped off the porch into the bushes near Pete.

Pete dropped the picture of Benjie right beside the place where Benjie had scratched numbers and letters in the dirt. He stood beside the photo, ready to grab it again if Alex didn’t notice the writing.

“This isn’t funny, Pete,” Alex muttered. “The sheriff needs that picture.” He put his hand down to pick the picture up, but he was looking at Pete, not at the ground.

Pete put both front paws on the picture and stood still. Now Alex couldn’t pick up the picture without first picking up Pete, and he would have to lean down more in order to do that.

Alex bent over, stretched both hands toward Pete, and stopped. He looked at the dirt next to the photo.

“
Do you see it?
”
Pete said.
“
I think Benjie wrote it. He was here. His scent is in the bushes.
”

“Did you get it?” Mrs. Kendrill said. “If not, I’ll get the smaller photos.”

Alex turned to Rocky. “Look at this,” he said.

Rocky squatted beside Pete. “It looks like a license number,” he said.

“That’s what I thought,” Alex said. He picked up the picture, then beckoned to the sheriff. “You need to look at
this,” he said. “Someone has written what seems to be a license number in the dirt under this bush.”

Sheriff Alvored stood beside Alex while Rocky held back the laurel branches so the sheriff could get a better look.

“This hasn’t been here long,” Sheriff Alvored said. “It’s right next to the downspout, so it would not be this distinct after water flowed across it. We had a hard rain this morning; this was written after that.”

“Do you suppose Benjie hid in the bushes and spied on the burglars?” Rocky said.

“It’s exactly the kind of thing he would do,” Alex said. “One of his books even suggests writing a license number in the dirt if you don’t have pencil and paper available. I remember reading that part to him.”

“
Yes
,”
Pete said.
“
Now you’re catching on.
”

“He isn’t going to attack me again, is he?” asked Sheriff Alvored.

“No,” Alex said. “I think he took the picture as a way to make us look under the bush.”

The sheriff raised his eyebrows as he looked at Alex, then at Pete, then back to Alex.

“Take this down,” he said to the deputy. “Zero, nine, four, X, C, L.”

Deputy Flick wrote the numbers and letters down. Then Deputy Flick spoke into his phone. “We’re issuing
an all-points bulletin for this license number.” He repeated the number twice. “The occupants may have a hostage, a seven-year-old boy. Use extreme care.”

Alex handed the photo of Benjie to the sheriff, who gave it to Deputy Harper.

“We’ll scan it and send it out right now,” Deputy Harper said. She and her partner headed to their car. “Then we’ll cruise the area.”

Mr. Kendrill said, “You have a computer in the patrol car?”

“Deputy Harper is a computer genius,” Deputy Flick said. “Her car is a portable office.”

“Looks to me as if this was written with a twig,” Sheriff Alvored said. He got a camera from the patrol car, took some pictures of the writing in the dirt, then carefully put the twig in a plastic evidence bag.

While the people all crowded around to see the writing in the dirt and speculated about whether or not Benjie had written it, Pete crawled out from under the laurel bush, limped up the porch steps, and went slowly into the house. He had done all that he could to help Benjie. Now it was up to the humans.

Pete ached all over, his ear still hurt, and he was too tired even to eat. He went straight to his bed, flopped down, and closed his eyes. Being a spy was hard work.

W
hat can I do
to help?” Rocky asked as soon as the sheriff and all the deputies left.

“Let’s make a flyer about Benjie,” Alex suggested. “We can put copies on light poles and street-sign posts.”

“Yes, flyers might help,” Mrs. Kendrill said. “Say that he was wearing jeans, his red-and-white-striped polo shirt, and no shoes.” Her voice shook as she described Benjie’s clothes.

Mr. Kendrill took a large white envelope from the desk. Inside were Benjie’s school pictures. He handed the five-by-seven picture to Alex.

“Put his picture on the flyer,” he said, “and have color copies made.” He gave Alex some money for the copies.

“Mom will drive us to town to make copies,” Rocky said. “We can put them on all the telephone poles and at the school and in front of the post office.”

“You can post flyers at the school and post office
tonight,” Mrs. Kendrill said, “but save the rest. I don’t want you boys going all over town after dark.”

“You can put the rest up first thing tomorrow morning if we don’t have Benjie back by then,” Mr. Kendrill said.

Alex nodded. What if Benjie wasn’t found tonight?

“I think we should drive around the area and look for him,” Mrs. Kendrill said.

Mr. Kendrill agreed. “We don’t know for sure that he is with the burglars. He may have been frightened and decided to hide somewhere, and now he doesn’t realize it’s safe to come home.”

Alex didn’t see how Benjie could have missed hearing all the sirens in the last hour. If Benjie was hiding in the neighborhood, he would know the sheriff had come and that it was safe to return home.

Alex didn’t say that, though. He sensed that his parents would feel better if they did something specific, such as driving around looking for Benjie, rather than waiting passively for the phone to ring.

“Sheriff Alvored’s card with his cell-phone number is next to the kitchen phone,” Mr. Kendrill said. “We’ll have our cell phone on in the car.”

As Alex watched his parents drive away, he felt Rocky’s hand on his shoulder.

“Do you have some colored markers?” Rocky asked.

Alex got the markers, and the boys set to work on the flyer. When it was done, Rocky called his mom. She drove
them to the copy center and then to the school and post office.

“I’m scared for Benjie,” Alex told Rocky as they tacked a flyer to the community bulletin board outside the post office. “I’m afraid the burglars caught him spying on them and got angry.”

“He’s a smart kid,” Rocky said. “If he’s been kidnapped, maybe he’ll figure out a way to escape.”

“I wish I could do more to help find him,” Alex said.

“When we get back to your house, let’s walk around outside and look for more clues.”

As the car backed out of the parking spot at the post office, the headlights shone on Benjie’s smiling face and the word
MISSING
.

Alex felt as if he were watching a horror movie or having a nightmare. What if Benjie was never found?

Alex’s parents were still gone when the boys got home. Rocky’s mom invited Alex to have dinner at their house, but the boys wanted to wait at Alex’s house, in case there was any news of Benjie.

The boys got flashlights and walked all around the outside of the house but found no other clues. Then Alex made popcorn. Rocky filled a bowl and sat at the table, but Alex sat on the floor beside Pete’s bed.

“Pete saw the writing in the dirt,” he said as he petted the cat. “He stole the picture and took it under the bush so we’d go there and find the writing.”

Pete purred as Alex stroked his side.

“
I wonder what else he knows
,”
Rocky said.

“
Plenty.
”

Alex looked closely at Pete’s cut ear and the bare spot on his neck. “How did you get so scraped up? Did you fight with another cat?”

“
I fought with the burglars. I tried to save Benjie from getting kidnapped.
”

Lizzy came out from under the couch and rubbed against Alex’s leg. “Mrowr?” she said.

“Okay, you guys, quit begging,” Alex said. “I’ll feed you.”

Lizzy scampered after Alex into the kitchen, but Pete stayed where he was. There had never before in Pete’s life been a time when he didn’t rush toward the sound of the can opener, but he didn’t feel like eating now. Not when Benjie was gone.

“Come on, Pete,” Alex called. “You deserve kitty num-num tonight.”

Kitty num-num? Pete’s all-time favorite treat? Pete’s nose twitched as the delicious smell of whitefish and tuna drifted toward him. He got to his feet. Perhaps he could eat a small amount, after all.

As Pete ate, he saw Alex drop the empty num-num can into the wastebasket under the sink. Then Alex picked up the full wastebasket and headed for the kitchen door.

Pete remembered the rubbish that the burglar had tossed out of the van and Mrs. Sunburg had picked up. Here’s my chance, Pete thought.

When Alex opened the kitchen door Pete dashed out, but instead of running off as he usually did, he stayed beside Alex.

Alex lifted the lid of the garbage can. Before he could empty the wastebasket, Pete jumped into the half-full garbage can and picked up the white paper bag in his teeth.

“Now what?” Alex said. He took the bag from Pete and shook out the contents. “Rocky!” Alex called.

Rocky rushed outside.

Pete jumped down.

“This bag of trash was in our garbage can,” Alex said. “There are candy wrappers from licorice candy, but no one in my family likes licorice.” He picked up an empty cigarette pack. “Nobody smokes, either.”

He reached for two crumpled pieces of paper that had been in the bag and opened them. “This is our phone number,” he said, handing one of the papers to Rocky. “The other paper has a street address on it. Who put this in our garbage can?”