Abduction! (13 page)

In the second inning, Denny’s phone rang. When he began talking loudly, people nearby gave him annoyed looks until he walked up the aisle to have his conversation on the concourse.

He didn’t return until the third inning. Matt hoped he would stay this time. It was more fun to watch a ball game
WITH
someone, even his dad, who didn’t care about baseball.

The girls sitting on the other side of Matt giggled and acted rowdy; they paid no attention to Matt or the Mariners.

The cotton-candy vendor walked past. Matt wished Denny would offer to buy some, but he didn’t.

Denny left for another phone call in the fifth inning and stayed away so long, Matt grew nervous. One part
of him cheered for the Mariners while another part worried about Denny.

What if Denny came back in one of his angry moods? He might want to leave before the seventh-inning stretch when the Mariner Moose drove his quad around the field. Stanley had told Matt about that, and Matt really wanted to see the Moose do it.

Matt had figured out that Denny’s phone calls always involved winning or losing money. When Denny won, he was happy. He ordered pizza and bought Matt new toys. When Denny lost, he got angry and nothing Matt did pleased him. The last two days, Denny must have lost a lot. Matt remembered the empty ice-cream carton.

He looked anxiously down the aisle. What if Denny didn’t come back? He didn’t like living with Denny, but at least Denny gave him a place to sleep and food to eat. Without Denny, Matt might end up like the homeless man he’d once seen standing beside the freeway exit, holding a sign—
HUNGRY. NEED MONEY FOR FOOD
.

Mom had told him if he was ever in trouble to tell his phone number to a police officer or other adult, but she had also said, “Don’t talk to strangers.” The only police Matt saw were down on the field, where fans weren’t allowed, and Matt didn’t see any adults he
knew. Besides, his phone number wasn’t any good now that nobody lived in his house.

Matt nervously fingered one ear, pulling on the earlobe.

Bonnie stood at the entrance to her section, waiting for Nancy. Between innings, they had gone to the restroom together and then to a souvenir stand, where Bonnie bought a Mariners baseball. Now Nancy wanted to buy some nachos.

“I’ll wait for you where I can see the game,” Bonnie had said when she saw the long line at the food stand. “I want to watch the Mariners bat.”

She pointed her binoculars at the Mariners on-deck circle. Mom was right; it was fun to see the players up close. She watched the first baseman walk to the plate, then smack the ball on the first pitch and send it sailing high into the second-deck stands beyond third base.

Bonnie followed the foul ball with her binoculars. Half a dozen fans scrambled to catch it. One of them spilled his drink all over the woman in front of him as he lunged for the ball.

Bonnie chuckled as she watched the successful fan hold the ball in the air while his friends cheered.

She scanned the crowd around the man with the ball. As she moved the binoculars from left to right, she suddenly stopped and reversed direction.

She stared at a boy who was pulling on his earlobe, exactly the way Matt always did when he was nervous. Bonnie’s scalp prickled as she blinked and adjusted the focus. The boy was Matt’s size, but he had black hair and he wore glasses. He had on a gaudy shirt with buttons up the front; Matt disliked buttons and wore only pullover shirts.

She didn’t think the boy was Matt, but there
WAS
a resemblance, especially around the eyes. Detective Morrison had said whoever took Matt might change his appearance.

Bonnie looked to see who sat next to the boy. There was an empty seat on one side of him. On the other side, a pair of teenage girls jumped and danced as they held up a sign, clearly hoping the fan camera would put their picture on the big screen. Behind the boy, a young couple with a sleeping baby ate hot dogs.

It can’t be Matt, Bonnie thought. Nobody was making that boy sit there by himself. If Matt had been left alone at Safeco Field, he wouldn’t sit calmly and watch the baseball game. He would tell an usher or the parents of those girls sitting beside him who he was. He’d say
he had been abducted and needed help. He would give an adult his phone number and have them call Mom or ask someone to call the police.

Bonnie let the binoculars dangle from the strap. A train whistle filled the air as a train passed Safeco Field. Bonnie tried to concentrate on the batter.

The boy only looks like Matt because I’m thinking so much about him, Bonnie told herself. She remembered riding in the country last summer. Each time she saw a
DEER CROSSING
sign, she looked so hard for deer that she imagined every large rock or tree stump was a buck or doe.

Was it going to be like that with Matt? Every time she saw a boy Matt’s size, would she imagine it was him whether it made sense or not?

Still . . .

She peered through the binoculars once more. The boy kept pulling on his ear. Bonnie decided to go closer and then look again. She moved the binoculars until she saw which section the boy sat in. She turned and walked down to the concourse.

She didn’t want to tell Nancy or the rest of her group where she was going; no point getting everyone all excited when she was sure it couldn’t really be Matt.

She found Nancy still waiting in line for her nachos, and said, “I saw a friend of my mom’s, and I’m going
to go talk to him for a few minutes. I’ll see you back at our seats.”

Then she went down to the second level and walked as fast as she could around the concourse until she reached the third-base side of Safeco Field.

D
enny pressed the phone to one ear and covered his other ear with his hand, straining to hear through the crowd noise.

“Bronco tells me you paid him.”

Denny recognized Hank’s voice; his stomach did somersaults.

“Right,” Denny said. “Right! And I’ll pay you, too.”

“Today.” Even with the noise around him, Denny caught the threat in that one word.

“I can’t get the money out of the bank until Monday,” Denny said. “I’ll pay you then.”

“I’ve heard that before.”

“I’m not stringing you along, Hank, I swear. I’ll bring your money first thing Monday morning.”

“I’ll probably regret this,” Hank said, “but you have until Monday noon. After that, no excuses.”

“I’ll be there,” Denny promised. He put the phone in his pocket and paced nervously. Winston and Celia were his only hope, but the last time Denny had tried to borrow from them, Winston had said, “Get yourself some help for your problems first. Stop gambling, and learn how to get along with people so you can hold a job.”

Denny had sworn he would do so even though he knew he didn’t have any problem. He could quit gambling anytime he wanted to; he’d had a string of bad luck, that’s all, and the only people he didn’t get along with were the jerks of the world, who seemed to be everywhere. They had the problem, not him.

Celia and Winston often urged Denny to “get some professional help.” Once, after Denny threatened to shoot a driver who cut him off in traffic, Celia had given him a phone number to call. “You need help to control your temper,” Celia said, “before you hurt someone.”

Denny’s blood boiled as he remembered how Celia and Winston had jumped all over him when the other driver was at fault. Denny had thrown the number away.

It would be different today. Celia and Winston would be sympathetic when they found out Denny needed the money for Matt. They knew how much it costs to raise kids.

He’d say he needed it to buy clothes and a bed for Matt. He’d say he had custody of the boy and needed cash to take Matt to the doctor and to buy allergy medicine. He’d say he had an interview next week for a real job with a steady paycheck because more than anything he wanted to take good care of his boy.

They’d agree to help this time instead of lecturing Denny to change his ways.

But what if they didn’t? What if Winston and Celia said no? What if Celia threw a fit because Denny had never paid back the last loan? What if they had somehow found out about his time in prison?

Hank and his partner could get mean. If Denny didn’t come up with the cash by Monday, he would have to hide out for a while. The money from the merchandise he’d returned wasn’t nearly enough to pay off Hank, and he’d already spent part of it on Lotto tickets.

He watched people buying refreshments, then read the posted prices. Six bucks for a beer! Cash flowed all around him, but Denny’s pockets were nearly empty.

He had to get enough money from Winston and
Celia not only to pay off Hank but also to place some bets on next week’s races. He had a hot tip on one race; he’d have big bucks soon. Winning felt better than anything else in the world.

He fidgeted, watching the people, resenting the easy way they purchased hot dogs and drinks. Why should foolish fans in baseball caps be able to afford what he could not?

He itched to talk to Winston and Celia, hit them up for a loan, and tuck the check safely in his pocket.

When he got home tomorrow, Denny would prepare to move. His rent was already a week overdue; he had to leave before the landlord came to collect. Children weren’t allowed in the complex; the landlord would notice Matt.

He’d pay Hank Monday morning, then hit the road. The money from Winston and Celia would give him a fresh start. Maybe he and Matt would go back to Reno, where the gambling was good.

A new idea struck him. He could say Matt needs surgery and there’s no insurance on him. Surgery is expensive; at least ten thousand dollars. With that much money, he and Matt could fly to Reno. He’d use one of his fake IDs for the plane.

Excited by this surefire plan, Denny rushed back to his seat. They would leave right now, catch an earlier
ferry, and give Winston and Celia more time to get over their shock about Matt before Denny asked for the money.

Denny sat beside Matt and said, “Come on, kid. We’re going.”

“Now? The bases are loaded and the game is tied.”

“We have to catch the ferry. Let’s go.”

Reluctantly Matt stood and followed Denny. Just then Matt heard a sharp
CRACK!
as the bat hit the baseball. A grand slam!

The crowd exploded. Matt cheered and clapped as he watched the players round the bases.

“Quit stalling!” Denny grabbed Matt’s arm and pulled him along.

Don’t get your hopes up, Bonnie told herself. This isn’t a mystery novel. You aren’t the brilliant girl detective who saves her brother from the crook.

She walked as fast as she could, dodging fans carrying cardboard trays full of food. The concourse was so crowded she wondered if anyone was still watching the game until a huge roar arose from the stadium.

From the television monitor, she heard Dave Niehaus, the Mariners announcer, shout, “Get out the rye bread and mustard, Grandma. It’s grand salami time!”

A grand slam! The crowd was going crazy. The first Mariners game of my life, Bonnie thought, and I’m missing the best part, because I’m on a wild-goose chase after a kid with black hair and glasses who looks a little bit like my brother.

But she didn’t turn back.

When she was one aisle from where the boy had been sitting, she decided she was close enough to get a really good look at him without actually confronting him. She walked up to the seating area and turned her binoculars toward the seats one section to her left. She moved them back and forth, but didn’t find the boy.

She scanned the crowd again, more slowly, and saw the two girls who had sat beside the boy. The girls were still jumping and screaming. This time there were two empty seats beside them. The boy was gone.

Maybe he’s using the restroom, Bonnie thought. She returned to the concourse area and looked in both directions, but it was hard to spot a small boy amid so many adults.

Bonnie hesitated. Should she go talk to those girls—ask them if the boy had told them his name? Little kids are friendly; he might have talked to them.

Of course if Matt had dyed hair and glasses and new clothes, he probably had a different name as well. Whoever had taken him wouldn’t let him use the name
Matt Sholter anymore. But Matt would never go along with such a pretense unless his abductor was there with him, making him pretend to be someone else. Nobody had been forcing that boy to do anything.

I should forget it, Bonnie thought. I saw a kid pulling on his ear the way Matt does, and I got all excited, but it wasn’t him, so I need to return to my own seat before Nancy’s mother worries about me. Probably lots of kids pull on their ears. It’s a habit, like nail biting or knuckle cracking.

She started back toward the first-base side. As she walked past the escalator that leads to the street, she glanced down. On the moving steps one flight below, she saw the black-haired boy, riding down. Directly behind him was Denny Thurman.

Shock zapped through every nerve in Bonnie’s body. She recognized Denny immediately, even though she had not seen him since she was seven. It
IS
Matt, Bonnie thought. Detective Morrison was right; Matt’s dad took him!