Dawn and the Disappearing Dogs

by Ann M. Martin

  Stacey shook her head. “Sounds like a rough afternoon, Mal,” she said.

  “It was,” agreed Mal. “I’m just glad Claire only throws tantrums about softball. Think if she did that all the time!”

  Claud stuck her hand underneath a pile of sweaters and came up with a bag of Doritos. “Chips, anyone?” she asked. She passed them to me, and I handed them right over to Mary Anne. I don’t eat that kind of stuff. I pulled out my snack — a baggie full of whole-wheat crackers — and offered some to Stacey. She smiled and took a few. The two of us share a special bond as the nonjunk-food eaters in the club. The only difference between us is that Stacey would love to eat junk food if she could, and I wouldn’t touch the stuff if you paid me.

  “So, where’s Ms. President?” asked Claudia, after she’d watched her Doritos make the rounds. “I mean, it’s five twenty-five. I mean, oops, make that five twenty-six,” she went on, after checking her digital clock.

  “I don’t know,” said Mary Anne. “Kristy’s usually the first one here. I wonder what’s keeping her.”

  “She won’t be late,” said Stacey. “I know her. She’ll pop in just before the clock clicks to five-thirty.” She pulled a bottle of nail polish out of her shoulder bag. “What do you guys think of this color?” she asked. The polish was bright orange, with sparkles in it.

  “Interesting,” said Mary Anne.

  “Kind of wild,” said Mallory, sounding envious. “My mom would never let me wear that.”

  “I like it,” said Claud. “Can I try some?”

  Stacey tossed the bottle over. “Hey, look,” she said. “It’s almost five-thirty. Let’s start a countdown, and watch Kristy burst in at the last second.” She started to count. “Ten! Nine!”

  The rest of us joined in. “Eight! Seven! Six!”

  We were all watching the door, expecting Kristy to throw it open at any moment.

  “Three! Two! One!” we finished. The clock clicked to five-thirty. But Kristy still hadn’t shown up.

  “Wow!” said Mallory. “I was sure she’d get here in time.”

  “She’s actually late!” said Claudia a moment later, when the clock had changed to 5:31.

  “I can’t believe it,” said Stacey. “Charlie’s car must have broken down.”

  “That’s probably it,” said Mary Anne, sounding relieved. “I mean, I’m sure there’s nothing to worry about.”

  I could tell that Mary Anne was worried, though. She’s the type who always imagines the worst. “She’ll be here any minute,” I said, to reassure Mary Anne. “And then we can tease her about being late.”

  It felt very strange to be gathered in Claud’s room, watching the minutes tick by, without Kristy sitting in the director’s chair.

  “Do — do you think we should start the meeting without her?” asked Mary Anne, looking nervous. It was 5:36.

  I gulped, realizing that as alternate officer, I’d have to be the one to take over the president’s job. I wasn’t eager to jump into Kristy’s shoes. “Let’s just wait a couple more minutes,” I said. We were all very quiet for a few seconds. I guess everybody else was doing the same thing I was doing: listening for the sound of a car door slamming and then footsteps on the stairs. But no matter how hard we listened, we couldn’t hear a thing.

  Just then the phone rang, and we jumped a mile.

  “Maybe that’s her,” said Mary Anne. “Answer it, answer it!”

  Claudia grabbed the phone. “Hello?” she said. “Kristy?” She listened for a moment. Then she said, “Oh, sorry, Dr. Johanssen. How can we help you? … A sitter for Charlotte next Monday? Sure, I’ll call you right back.”

  Mary Anne looked crestfallen. “I was sure it was going to be Kristy,” she said. She picked up the club record book to check on who was available. “It would have to be either Stacey or Jessi,” she said. “But Jessi can’t do it if it’s a night job. Is it?”

  “It is,” said Claud. “So I guess you’ve got the job, Stace. Okay?” Stacey nodded, and Claudia picked up the phone to call Dr. Johanssen back.

  “It feels weird to be going ahead with business,” said Mallory. “Without Kristy, I mean.”

  “I know,” I said. “But we have to answer the phone if it rings, right?”

  “Right,” said Claudia, who had finished making her call. “Anyway, she’ll be here soon. In fact —” she held up a finger. “I think I hear her right now.”

  Sure enough, Kristy burst into the room a moment later. “Sorry, you guys!” she said.

  “Are you all right?” asked Mary Anne.

  “What happened?” I asked. As soon as I saw Kristy’s face, I knew that teasing her about being late was out of the question. She looked very upset.

  Kristy sat down in the director’s chair. “Just a second,” she said. “I have to catch my breath.”

  The rest of us looked at each other, wide-eyed. “Kristy, what’s wrong?” asked Stacey.

  “Shannon’s gone.” Kristy stared down at her hands. “She disappeared this afternoon and we can’t find her anywhere.”

  I thought of how I’d felt after Cheryl disappeared. “Oh, no!” I said. “David Michael must be going nuts.”

  “He is,” said Kristy. “In fact, he and Sam are still out there looking. I only quit the search because I was late for our meeting.”

  “Did she run off?” asked Jessi.

  “I guess so,” said Kristy. “We’re not really sure what happened. David Michael was playing with her after school. They were out in the front yard. Then he remembered this ball he’d gotten for her, and he tied her up for a second so he could go inside and get it.”

  “Tied her up?” I asked.

  “On this run we have for her. You know, a wire that stretches across the front yard, with a chain attached? He clipped her to that.”

  “Then what happened?” asked Mal.

  “When he came out five minutes later, she was gone,” said Kristy. “The chain and the clip were still there, and they weren’t broken. But there was no sign of Shannon. He ran in to get me, and we searched the whole neighborhood.”

  “I can’t believe Shannon would run away,” said Mary Anne. “She loves David Michael.”

  “I know,” said Kristy. “And he loves her. He’s miserable, and he feels guilty for leaving her outside.”

  “That’s silly,” I said. But I knew just how he felt, because I felt the same way when Cheryl disappeared. In fact, I still felt incredibly guilty. “It’s funny, isn’t it?” I said. “That Cheryl and Shannon are both gone.”

  “Shannon’s not gone,” said Kristy. “She’ll be back by the time I get home. I’m sure of it.” She sounded firm, but I could see that she wasn’t really so sure of herself.

  “I’ve got an idea,” said Mary Anne. She probably noticed, as I did, that Kristy was looking worried. “Let’s make some signs. You know, saying that Cheryl and Shannon are lost? It will give us something productive to do.”

  “Shannon’s not lost,” muttered Kristy. “She’s not.” But then she looked over at Claud. “Do you have any posterboard?” she asked.

  Claud started digging around for art supplies while the rest of us discussed the missing dogs.

  “Maybe it’s Alan Gray, or one of those other boys,” said Stacey. She was talking about a bunch of guys in our class who are always doing obnoxious things. “Maybe they’re just trying to tease us by letting the dogs off their chains.”

  “It better not be them,” said Kristy, sounding mad.

  “I don’t think it is,” I said. “I mean, if it were just a prank, they would have brought Cheryl back to the Mancusis long ago.”

  “Maybe David Michael didn’t clip Shannon’s collar so well,” said Claudia. “He’s only seven, after all.” She was handing out posterboard and Magic Markers as she spoke.

  I saw Kristy glaring at her, and decided I’d better say something before an argument broke out. “I’m sure he did it right,” I said. “It’s easy, and David Michael’s a smart kid. Any
way, I know for sure that I did it right, and Cheryl still got away from me.” Everybody was quiet for a moment after that.

  “How does this look?” asked Mallory finally, holding up the sign she’d been working on.

  “Great,” said Mary Anne. “I love those sketches of Shannon and Cheryl.”

  We worked quietly during the rest of our meeting. The phone rang a few times, when clients called to arrange jobs. I know Kristy was hoping to hear good news from David Michael, but that call never came.

  Not until I left the meeting did I realize I’d forgotten something. I hadn’t brought up the issue of the green car, and we hadn’t talked about discussing “stranger” rules with the kids we sit for. I reminded myself to bring it up first thing at our next meeting, on Friday.

  I forgot all about dogs, missing or not, when I returned home from our meeting that evening. “Mom!” I cried, when I opened the front door. “What’s that I smell?”

  My mother appeared in the kitchen doorway, holding a bowl. “It’s your favorite,” she said smiling. “Tofu and vegetable curry. With brown rice on the side. Plus, I made some seaweed salad.”

  “Wow!” I said. “What’s the occasion?”

  “Does there have to be an occasion?” she asked. “I just felt like making you a treat.”

  “Well, thanks,” I said, giving her a big hug.

  Just then, Mary Anne ran in behind me. “What is that smell?” she asked. “Did the garbage disposal back up?”

  “Mary Anne!” I said. “That’s dinner. Tofu curry! And Mom made it special.”

  Mary Anne gulped. “Oh!” she said. “Well, I’m sure it will taste really good. I guess I’m just not used to the way it smells.”

  Mom laughed and reached out to hug Mary Anne. “I’d never make my favorite stepdaughter eat anything she hated,” she said. “Or my husband, for that matter. I made lasagna for you and Richard. It should be ready in a minute.”

  Mary Anne looked relieved. “Oh, that’s great. Thanks, Sharon! And I’ll at least try a bite of what you made for Dawn.”

  As I said, my new family is learning how to live together happily, but it still takes some work.

  “I’m going up to change my clothes,” I said. Although I never wear anything that’s not totally comfortable (my friends call my style “California Casual”), I still like to get out of my school clothes and into sweatpants at the end of the day.

  I headed up the narrow, creaky stairs. Our house, as I may have mentioned before, is really old. It was built in 1795, to be exact. And back in those days, people were smaller. Or at least shorter. Anyway, the ceilings in our house are very low, and the hallways are narrow. Other people might think it seems cramped, or strange — but I love it. This house has a lot of character. Not only that, it may have a ghost! That’s right. There are some stories about a crazy guy named Jared Mullray who may actually haunt this house. The idea is a little creepy, but deliciously creepy, if you know what I mean. I love ghost stories, the scarier the better. My favorite book to read and re-read is called Spirits, Spooks, and Ghostly Tales.

  When I reached my room, I changed quickly and set out my school books so I’d be ready to do my homework after dinner. I love my room; it’s really cozy. For awhile, after Richard and my mom first got married, Mary Anne and I tried to share this bedroom. That didn’t work out so well, I guess because we each needed our own space. Now Mary Anne has what used to be our guest room, and we’re both happier.

  I don’t think Mary Anne ever really felt comfortable in my room, anyway, because of the secret passage. That’s right, there’s a real secret passage in this house, and one end of it is in my room! When you push this spot on the molding, a panel swings open, and you can walk through the passage. It goes down a flight of stairs, and then underground until it comes up through a trapdoor in the barn behind our house. Guess why the passage was originally built? Because this house was a stop on the Underground Railroad, which helped slaves work their way North to freedom. Isn’t that cool?

  Anyway, the reason Mary Anne doesn’t like the passage is that she’s afraid of ghosts, and there have been times when we thought that the ghost of Jared Mullray might be in there. We’ve heard moaning and scratching noises. The possibility of a ghost doesn’t scare me at all — or at least, if it does scare me I don’t mind — but Mary Anne gets all panicked at the idea of spirits anywhere near her.

  I pushed the molding to make the panel swing open for a minute. Sometimes I do that, even if I’m not planning to go into the passage. I just like to know it’s there. I peered into the musty darkness. “Hellooo, Jared,” I called. I giggled. What if I heard someone say, “Hellooo, Dawn!” in return? That might scare me. Luckily, I didn’t hear a thing. I closed the panel and headed downstairs.

  Richard had come home, so Mary Anne and I set the table quickly and my family sat down to dinner. I dug into the tofu curry, ignoring the lasagna that sat between Mary Anne and Richard. “This is great, Mom,” I said. “You haven’t made this for a long time.”

  “Glad you like it, hon,” she said. “How’s the lasagna?” she asked the others.

  “Perfect,” said Richard.

  I noticed that Mary Anne ate two servings of lasagna before she even tried a tiny bite of the tofu. “Well,” she said, after she’d chewed for a moment. “It’s — different.” Then she put down her fork. “I guess I’m full. Thanks for making it, though, Sharon.”

  Good old sensitive Mary Anne. She always does her best to make people feel good.

  “Richard, would you like to try some?” asked Mom.

  He looked up from his lasagna, surprised. “Um, well,” he said. “Actually, I’m pretty full myself. Couldn’t eat another bite. It looks delicious, though.” He blinked a few times and gave Mom a weak smile.

  Mom laughed. “You don’t lie very well, honey. But that’s all right. I’ve learned by now that it’s next to impossible to convert people to health foods if they don’t want to be converted.” She turned to me. “If you and Mary Anne will clear the table, I made something for dessert I think we’ll all like.”

  She was right. The four of us gobbled down the blueberry-strawberry pie she’d made. I noticed that Richard and Mary Anne seemed to have room for that, but I didn’t say anything. There’s no point in stirring up trouble.

  After dinner, Mary Anne went upstairs to call Logan. I settled down on the living room couch. Since I didn’t have much homework, I decided to relax for a few minutes and read the Stoneybrook News.

  I glanced at the headlines and checked the weather. Then I started to page through the paper. Something on the second page caught my eye.

  DOG DISAPPEARANCES PLAGUE TOWNS, the headline read. “Wow!” I said. I drew in a long breath and began to read the article.

  STONEYBROOK. The Stoneybrook police report a sudden increase in the number of missing dogs throughout the area. Dogs have disappeared from homes in Stoneybrook, New Hope, Lawrenceville, and other nearby towns.

  “Owners are reporting missing dogs at a rate I’ve never seen before,” said Police Chief John Pierce. “The dogs have been disappearing from yards and from public places, such as parks.”

  The article went on to say that nobody had actually seen his or her dog disappear, and that investigation had turned up very few clues for the police to follow up. In most cases, the dog had simply been unclipped from a leash or chain, and there was never any sign of struggle.

  I couldn’t believe my eyes. This sounded just like what had happened to Cheryl — and to Shannon! My heart was pounding as I continued to read.

  “Without any evidence to go on, we have no way of proving this,” said Chief Pierce, “but we do believe these dogs may have been stolen, perhaps by a ring of professional thieves. We will continue to search for clues and to pursue any evidence we turn up. Meanwhile, we are advising pet owners to be alert.”

  “Stolen!” I said out loud. “Oh, my lord!” This was incredible. Was there really a dog-theft ring operating in Stoneyb
rook? I wondered whether the Mancusis had seen this article. I knew Mrs. Mancusi would be upset to think that Cheryl had been stolen.

  I thought back to the day she’d disappeared. Maybe I could come up with some clues. Maybe I could even help the police solve the case, and return Cheryl to the Mancusis.

  I thought hard. I remembered letting myself in to the Mancusis’ house. I remembered checking on all the animals, and I remembered the way Cheryl had followed me. After awhile, I’d taken her outside and clipped her to her chain. Had I clipped her securely? I was sure I had. I thought about how I’d finished taking care of the other pets, and then had headed outside with Pooh Bear and Jacques, only to find Cheryl missing. I’d checked the chain, and I’d looked around for signs of Cheryl. But she had disappeared. That was it. I hadn’t thought of any new clues. The Case of the Missing Great Dane sounded just like all the other missing dog cases the police were dealing with.

  I thought of how I’d walked all over the neighborhood, calling for Cheryl. Then I remembered how Jessi had come out, and how we’d looked some more. I still wasn’t getting anywhere. But then, thinking of Jessi, I remembered something. What about the day before, when Jessi and Squirt and Charlotte and Becca and I had walked the dogs? We’d made quite a sight. Such a sight that people driving by had slowed down to watch us.

  Especially the people — or person — in that dark green car. The car! I smacked myself on the forehead. How could I have forgotten? That dark green car had made me nervous — twice. The first time was that day with Jessi, and the second time was when I was at the Krushers practice, talking to Mal. I realized that maybe there was a very good reason it had made me nervous. Maybe it was because that car belonged to a thief!

  I reached for the phone, thinking I would call the police and give them the important tip I’d come up with. Then I stopped myself. They’d be sure to ask for a license plate number, and I didn’t have that. Maybe I should do some investigating and watch for the car again instead. That way I could give all the information to the police, and they’d be able to crack the case in no time. Soon Cheryl would be back with the Mancusis, and I’d be able to stop feeling so guilty.