“Glen Rock?” Dad exclaimed. “How did Rachel get way out there?”
“I don’t know any more than that,” Mom responded. “I guess we’ll find out soon enough.”
Limp with relief, the family sat back down around the table. “Oh, what an answer to prayer,” Mom sighed, tears of relief still trickling down her cheeks. “I was so scared.”
Bucky sat up straight all of a sudden. “How come when that call first came in you were so frightened, Mom? You turned white as a sheet!”
For a moment she looked puzzled. Then she remembered. “Well, this lady started out by saying, ‘Mrs. Stone? I have your daughter here.’ I thought it was the kidnappers calling.” She shook her head in relief.
The officer grinned. “Not such a hot way to start a conversation, under the circumstances.” Suddenly he looked at his watch again. “I better call in. This is one they’ll be awfully glad to hear about over at headquarters.”
“Let’s go into the living room,” Dad suggested. “Give this officer time to finish his job.”
“How about some food?” Lisa piped up. “Nobody’s touched my mom’s salad. If you’ll tell me where the bowls are, I’ll bring some in for everyone.”
Mrs. Stone shot her a grateful look. “Thank you, sweetheart; that sounds great.” She pointed toward the top cupboard. “Bowls are in there.”
Moments later the four of them sat quietly, savoring the tasty mix of lettuce, tomatoes, and chili beans.
“This is delicious,” Mom commented between bites. “Be sure to thank your mom for us, Lisa. What a thoughtful thing to do.”
“She’ll be so glad to hear how all this turned out.”
“Well,” Mom sighed, “I still don’t think I’ll be able to really believe it until I’ve got Rachel Marie sitting in my lap again.”
The officer poked his head into the living room. “Well, they’re delighted over at the office,” he announced. “And it looks like a good celebration in here too.”
“You bet,” Bucky nodded. “Want some of this food?”
He shook his head. “I have to run over there for a few minutes, but I’ll be back to get a statement from this lady who’s bringing Rachel home. I’ll see you in a little while.” With a friendly wave, he headed out the front door. A moment later, they heard his police cruiser pull away from the curb and head down the street.
Mom leaned back, resting her head against Dad’s shoulder. He gave her a squeeze. “Feeling better?”
“Yeah,” she sighed contentedly. “It’s just starting to sink in.” She twisted his wrist around so she could glance at his watch. “I wonder how much longer?”
Bucky looked over at Lisa. “It was really great of you to come over,” he said softly. She smiled shyly.
For several minutes no one spoke. The rhythmic ticking of the wall clock in the background seemed to accent the slow passage of time.
At last the doorbell rang. Mr. and Mrs. Stone were at the door in an instant. Standing there in the darkness was a young woman, thirtyish, wearing a maroon ski jacket. Tightly clasping her hand was a weary first-grader with a tear-streaked face.
Kneeling down, Mom opened her arms wide and the little girl buried herself in her mother’s embrace. Dad gave the stranger a warm smile. “Thank you,” he said quietly.
The woman smiled. “Oh, believe me, it’s my pleasure!”
Mom stood up at last, scooping Rachel up and handing her to Dad. She turned to the woman. “Thank you so much for bringing her home,” she said tremulously. “We were so frightened.”
“Please, come in,” Dad invited. “Naturally, we all want to hear the whole story. I guess in all the excitement we never got your name over the phone,” he apologized.
“Stephanie Eldridge,” she replied. “Everybody just calls me Steffie.”
“Well, Steffie,” he offered, “let me take your coat.”
“Thanks.” She handed him her jacket and sat down. “This is one evening I won’t ever forget.”
“Tell us everything,” Mom urged, still clutching Rachel on her lap. “Start right from the beginning.”
The visitor smiled. “Where do I begin,” she mused. “I was . . .”
The doorbell interrupted her.
“That must be the police again,” Dad observed. “Just in time to hear your story,” he added as he opened the door.
The officer introduced himself and said, “I want to hear the whole story, too.”
She nodded. “Where was I? Oh, yes. I was on my way home from a shopping trip in San Francisco when I stopped off to get a quick bite to eat. There’s a big fast food place in Glen Rock that’s right off the freeway. I was sitting there eating my sandwich when I noticed your little girl in one of the booths with this man.”
Mom caught her breath. “What did he look like?”
Steffie thought for a moment, “Not anything out of the ordinary. Dressed casually. Maybe forty-five years old.”
“Did he act strange or . . . handle her in any way?” Dad wanted to know, his voice grim for a moment.
She shook her head. “No, not really, just kind of awkward around her. Clumsy, I guess.”
“What made you think anything was wrong?” Mom asked.
“Well, that’s just it,” Steffie went on. “Your little girl looked real scared – not saying anything, but very quiet and pale as a ghost. I thought that was kind of weird.” The woman leaned over and gave Rachel a little pat on her knee. “Even with all of that, I probably wouldn’t have done anything. I mean, you see all kinds of families in a place like that – kids crying, there with babysitters, you know.” She paused. “But you know something? I kept saying to myself, ‘That little girl looks familiar to me.’”
“What!”
She shook her head. “I just kept peeking glances over there. I couldn’t get rid of that feeling that I knew her from somewhere. And so finally I just couldn’t contain my curiosity any longer and I went over and said, ‘Don’t I know you, honey?’”
Mom looked down at Rachel fondly. “What did she say?”
“Nothing at first. But the man really reacted – kind of pushed her into the corner of the booth and gave me a real mind - your - own - business kind of look.
“All of a sudden I remembered where I’d seen her.” She paused. “Over at the retirement center here in Hampton Beach. I drive up here every couple months to visit my dad.”
“Wait a minute!” Mom gestured excitedly. “We go over there sometimes, Rachel and I, to sing for some of the folks there.”
“That’s right!” Steffie nodded. “Three or four little tykes came by and sang for my father, and your girl was there with them. Best singer in the bunch, and I couldn’t forget that face!
“Anyway, I said to her, ‘Remember me? You sang for us last weekend.’ She kind of shook her head and shrank away, and I just couldn’t help feeling that something funny was going on.
“So I said, ‘What are you doing way down here? Did you and your daddy come here for a treat?’ She still didn’t say anything, but she kind of shook her head again.”
Mom looked down at her daughter. “Why didn’t you speak up, honey, and say ‘This isn’t my daddy! Take me home!’?”
Rachel buried her face in her mom’s sleeve. “I don’t know.”
“Oh, she was just too scared,” Stephanie soothed. “Anyway, I said to the guy, ‘I sure enjoyed your daughter’s singing last weekend.’”
“What’d he say?” Lisa wanted to know.
The young woman grew serious. “Right then he got really nervous. I could tell he just wanted to get away from me. He kind of shielded her from my view and said something like, ‘I’m her uncle.’ Kind of mumbled it, real quiet-like.” She shook her head, remembering. “That’s when Rachel here finally came to life. ‘No, he isn’t!’ she shouted. ‘I don’t know who he is.’”
Mom gasped. “What did the man do?”
Stephanie leaned forward. “I’m telling you, he went absolutely white. He looked ar
ound the restaurant for just a second; then all of a sudden, he said, ‘I gotta get one of her toys out of the car.’ Or something like that.”
She shook her head vehemently. “Listen, he headed out the door like he was shot out of a cannon. I saw him get into his car, and for a second he acted like he was rummaging around in it. Then, just like that, he took off. Squealed right out of the parking lot and onto the freeway.” Mom heaved a heavy sigh. “I’ve never heard anything like this in my life!” she exclaimed, relief plain in her voice. “Thank God you were there.” She put a hand on the young woman’s arm. “You saved my daughter’s life; you realize that.”
Stephanie shook her head. “I guess somehow God just put me there at the right time.”
The police officer suddenly spoke up. “I hate to ask you this right now, but I’ve got to know: did you get a look at his car?”
A light came on in Stephanie’s eyes. “Yes, I did!” she exclaimed. “Well, pretty much anyway. He drove a dark blue Honda. A sedan, I’m pretty sure. Maybe four or five years old.” She paused, thinking. “And I jotted down part of his license plate number on a napkin. I have it here in my purse.” She shook her head ruefully. “I’m sorry I couldn’t get it all, but he was flying out of there.”
The officer beamed. “Don’t apologize,” he emphasized. “This is amazing! With what you’ve given us I think we have a great chance of nailing this guy. Let me go call it in right now.”
“Mommy!” The little girl looked up at her mom. “That man . . .” Her voice was uncertain. “He had bad pictures in his car.”
Mrs. Stone caught her breath. “What do you mean, honey?” she asked, trying to keep her voice steady.
Rachel cowered under her mother’s protective wing again. “You know,” she whispered. “Bad pictures. Of people . . . and stuff.” Her voice trailed away.
“I figured as much,” Dad muttered. “That officer was right. Probably a porn ring instead of kidnapping. Kiddie porn, I guess.” His fists clenched involuntarily as he looked over at Stephanie. “All the more reason to be grateful for what you did, young lady.”
She nodded. “Pretty lucky all the way around, I’d say.” She reached over and gave Rachel’s stockinged leg a tiny squeeze. “I’m glad I came and found you, honey.”
“Me too,” Rachel murmured drowsily.
Mom snuggled her daughter into her lap. “I don’t think I’ll ever let you go again,” she announced softly.
Moments later, after exchanging e-mail addresses and phone numbers, the young woman stood at the doorway saying goodbye to the Stone family. “Goodbye, sweetheart,” she said to Rachel, giving her a big hug.
“‘Bye,” Rachel answered. After a little nudge from Mom she added shyly, “Thank you.”
“You’re sure welcome, sugar,” Stephanie smiled. With a wave, she climbed into her car and pulled out of the driveway.
Mom sighed happily. “Well, Stephanie Eldridge,” she said quietly at the retreating reflector lights of the departing car, “I’m going to make sure you have the best Christmas ever this year.”
Dad laughed. “I bet you won’t wait until Christmas!”
“You’re right! We’ll have to think of something extra special to do for her.” Looking over at Lisa, she added, “And for you, too, honey! What a comfort it was to have you here with us through all this.”
The teenager nodded. “I’m glad I could help.”
Mom sat down on the couch and looked at the group. “All evening long I’ve been saying ‘Thank God.’ Well, now I think we should do just that.”
Chapter Six: Double Play!
Bucky rubbed his shoulder after a brief throwing session with Litton, the left fielder. “Guess I’m rusty after missing that game,” he remarked as the two boys headed for the side of the field.
“Oh, yeah?” The older boy grinned. “You missed a good one, too.”
“I heard,” Bucky grinned. “I guess you’d like it – bases-loaded single in the seventh to drive in two to win.”
“Ah, just luck,” Litton retorted. “Their pitcher got behind in the count three and oh and didn’t want to walk in the tying run. Next pitch was right down the middle.”
“Walker gave you the green light?”
“Yeah. ‘If you get your pitch, jump on it.’ That’s what he told me before the game.”
“Well, congratulations,” Bucky offered.
“I heard about your sister,” Dan said after a moment. “I’ll bet your folks were relieved how it turned out.”
“Boy, you’re not kidding,” Bucky replied earnestly. “That was an awful night – but with a good ending.”
The two boys joined the rest of the team in the dugout area. Already Coach Walker was busy marking positions and batting orders for the game.
“There you are!” He glanced at the latecomers reproachfully. “Center and left, starting lineup.”
Bucky grinned apprehensively. His first game!
The innings dropped neatly into place with neither team making an offensive move. In the fourth inning, Bucky made a bid for an RBI double with two outs, but an acrobatic catch in the alley by the enemy left fielder brought frustrated groans from the Hampton Beach squad.
“You were robbed!” Dan muttered to Bucky as the two athletes trotted out to their fielding positions.
“Can you believe this? No score in the fifth inning,” Bucky responded.
The fifth and sixth innings went by without event. Then in the top of the seventh and final frame, the opposing team’s light-hitting shortstop hit a shot that just cleared the outfield fence. Grinning from ear to ear, he circled the bases in a dramatic trot, jogging across home plate with his teammates swarming around to pound him on the back.
“Raw power!” one of them whooped sarcastically, doubling over with laughter.
“Raw power, my eye,” Dan growled to Bucky out in the field. “That shrimp won’t hit another homer in his four years of high school. Of all the dumb luck!”
In the bottom of the inning, the Panthers tried valiantly to come back. Bucky watched nervously from the on-deck circle as the leadoff hitter patiently worked the opposing pitcher for a walk.
Stepping into the box, Bucky looked up to see the expected bunt sign. The first pitch sailed outside, but the next was on the inside corner. Bucky flinched as the umpire’s arm shot up. Strike one!
“Gotta pull the trigger,” he muttered to himself, digging in for a second try. The next pitch was in the same location. Using the technique Coach had taught the boys, Bucky bunted at the ball. The little roller trickled down the third base line and then into foul territory. Bucky, sprinting hard toward first, returned in disgust and picked up his bat.
Knowing that with two strikes the bunt was off, he scanned the field, looking for a hole. The opposition, clinging to their thin lead, was playing him straight away. No holes anywhere.
The next pitch was a little high, but too close to let go. Swinging hard, Bucky sent a line drive whistling right into the second baseman’s glove. The base runner put on the brakes and scrambled desperately back to first, but it was an easy double play.
The two dejected players trotted slowly to their dugout as the Panthers sent their last hope up to the plate. Coach’s frustration was plainly written on his face, but he said nothing, fixing his attention on the hitter.
“Come on, Jeff!” he hollered, but his voice lacked enthusiasm. Sure enough, on the second pitch the batter lifted a fly ball to medium center field for an easy final out. Slamming his bat down, he headed back to the losing dugout.
“Well, boys,” Coach said at last, “next week we better bring our bats. We gotta start hitting.”
A rumble of assent quickly died away as he continued. “But look at the good side. Great pitching, and pretty good defense, too. The ‘big D’ wasn’t bad at all. Only one run.”
“Yeah, and that was a miracle, coming from their shrimpy shortstop,” retorted the catcher. “Pretty good pitch he hit, too. Rotten luck!” He swore
softly to himself.
“Well, we’re one and one,” Coach reminded. “Let’s build up a winning streak, starting next game!” On that note he sent the troops off to the locker room.
A shower and a clean change of clothes helped erase the sting of the one-run loss. Bucky emerged from the concrete athletic center with his bag of baseball equipment, his short-cropped hair still damp. Standing there next to the front door was Sam.
“Hey, how’s it goin’?” Bucky greeted his friend.
“Great. How was the game?”
“Not so great. We got beat by a cheap homer. In the seventh inning, no less.”
“Oh, well,” Sam grinned. “Better luck next time.”
“Right.”
The two young men chatted about classes as they made their way across the high school campus, now bathed in shadows.
“Daylight saving time starts next week,” Bucky grumbled, glancing at the setting sun.
“So? You don’t like it?”
“Oh, I don’t know. It’s great for baseball, I guess. But sometimes, when it stays light so much longer, my dad thinks of a zillion things he wants to do around the house. And I get dragged into it.” He laughed.
Sam chuckled. He cocked his head to one side. “But you’re right. For baseball, it’s perfect.”
“Yeah,” Bucky conceded. Abruptly changing the subject, he asked, “Comin’ to church this weekend?”
Sam nodded. “I think so. Why?”
“Oh, no reason, just hoped you could. It’s totally cool having you there.”
“Well, I think we’ve got it settled at my house,” Sam said slowly, “Just so long as all I do is visit.” He paused. “And don’t jump in that water tank of yours.”
Bucky gave him a quizzical look, then caught himself. “Oh, you mean get baptized.”
“Yeah. I don’t think that would go over too well.”
“Why? Did your dad say something?”
Sam laughed. “Actually, he said plenty, like I already told you. Not specifically about that, but I know where he’s coming from.”
Bucky looked at him thoughtfully. “There’s certainly no rush,” he said. “God has his own schedule; when the time’s right, he’ll show you what to do.”
Bucky Stone: The Complete Adventure (Volumes 1-10) Page 14
