Ben walked around inspecting the bikes on display. He couldn’t really be interested when he had that beautiful truck.
Maddie browsed, too. “I’m thinking I should get one for exercise. Not ride it to school, we have that hill going home. I’ll need a ten-speed. Is yours ten-speed?”
“Three. Did you ever ride before?”
“When I was little. They say you never forget. I had a pink one with flowers on the basket. I don’t see any adult sizes in pink.”
“On a bike,” said Cree, “you’d be out in the open. What about your stalker?”
“Shoot, I forgot about him. I’ll have to take the dogs with me. They know him but they’ll stick up for me. One false move and he’s toast. I almost hope he tries it.”
Finally, the bike was ready. Ben checked the new tires, running his fingers over the tread, turning the wheels.
A horn beeped. It was silver-gray, a late model shaped like a submarine. Stacie’s hand flapped from the open passenger window.
Her new car. With Troy at the wheel. Or maybe they were only trying it out.
“Bitch,” muttered Cree.
Ben, examining a racing bike, looked up. So he was the reason Stacie beeped. “Friend of yours?” he asked.
“Not on your life.” Cree hadn’t waved back.
She took out her pitifully empty wallet. “I was going to treat you guys but they got it all.”
Maddie understood. “I have enough.” She poked Ben to get his attention. “Cree and I went to Frosty Dan the other day. Were you ever there? You’d like it.”
“How do you know what I’d like?” he said.
“It’s ice cream. What’s not to like?”
“This is not ice cream weather.”
“Any time is ice cream weather,” Maddie said. “There are tables inside.”
Did they always do this sort of thing? Maybe that was what it was like to have a sibling.
“If you pay for it,” Cree said, “then it’s not my treat. Could we make it another time? Both of you?”
Ben would think she was coming onto him.
As soon as they were in the truck, Maddie had second thoughts. “I don’t know if I feel like ice cream right now. Does anybody mind? Do they have their heart set on it?”
Ben worked on his BlackBerry, waiting to drive them wherever they decided.
Cree said, “I don’t know if I do either. I already had a chocolate sundae today.”
Maddie laughed. “Was that lunch? Or breakfast?”
“Brunch, I guess. I took Davy Hurlow out to pump him. You know, the kid whose baby brother disappeared.”
Ben put away his BlackBerry. “Pump him for what?”
“For information. About what happened.”
Maddie said, “I thought nobody knew.”
“Nobody does, not even Davy. He was there but he says he didn’t see anything and I believe him. Even his own mother thinks he’s hiding something. I thought if I went in with an open mind—”
Ben turned on the engine. He was taking her home.
She tried again to explain. “They’re grilling him like he’s a criminal. Those so-called experts, they plant their own ideas and then they think it’s the truth.”
He wasn’t taking her home. And not to Frosty Dan. He passed Maple and kept on going. “What experts?” he asked.
“Some psychology people. I’m not saying they all do that, but it happens. He says he didn’t see anything but they keep at him. Why bother if they’ve already made up their minds?”
Ben said, “There are certain techniques involved in that type of interview. Often they can get at the truth by asking the same questions in different ways to see how it all adds up.”
What was he, some kind of professor? He turned in at the high school.
“Why are we going here?” Maddie asked.
“I want to see the place,” he said. “Get oriented before Monday.”
Cree had forgotten about the transfer. It must be nerve-wracking, a new place, all new people. She herself had been with the same kids since kindergarten.
He cruised slowly along the front of the school. Cree said, “That’s the cafeteria, those tall windows there. And that’s the library.”
They rounded a corner. “And the tennis—” Maddie started to say.
In front of the courts, Emerson Santiago sat on a folding chair playing his harmonica.
“That’s the kid who hears voices in the toilet,” Maddie told her brother. “But what a funny place to be.”
“He’s at loose ends,” said Cree. “He’s my weekend replacement at Olive’s house and she’s not going to work. It looks like his family kicked him out to play his music somewhere else.”
Ben continued on to the parking lot. He stopped by a fence that surrounded the athletic field, and opened his door. “You guys can stay here.”
In other words, he didn’t want company as he set out to walk around the school.
Maddie sighed. “I hope they treat him better than Lakeside.”
“I’m sure the school will,” said Cree. “I can’t speak for all the kids.”
Maddie thought that over. “By this stage in life they should have a little maturity. When he was younger, kids used to bully him just because he’s an oddball. He still has scars on his arm from when some of them pushed him off his bike. He was eleven. His whole arm got scraped.”
A vehicle came up from Grand Street, a silver-gray submarine. It parked next to them.
Stacie opened her window. “Where’s your driver?”
“What driver?” said Cree, and hoped Stacie would never find him.
Troy said, “We were going to race him.”
Maddie spoke from the back seat. “That’s what you think, and you’d better think again. New cars shouldn’t be driven at racing speed.”
Stacie, still on the prowl for Ben, said, “Come on, Troy, let’s go.”
They backed out and started away. Cree twisted around, trying to see which way they went. It wasn’t Grand Street.
A moment later, she heard the screech of tires and a muted crash.
Maddie leaped out and started running. Cree followed, not at all certain they should leave the truck.
But Ben was out there, not expecting traffic. What if they hit him?
He was safe, helping Emerson right the folding chair. Stacie’s submarine had jumped the curb and plowed into the chain link fence surrounding the tennis courts. It was almost the exact spot where Emerson had been performing his solo concert.
Stacie climbed out of the car, looking shaken. She took out her stress on Maddie and Cree. “Don’t you people have anything better to do than stand around and stare?”
Troy, battling the torn fence to open his door, soon joined her. Maddie said, “I told you not to race.”
“We weren’t racing!” Stacie snapped. Her new car. That fence must have done a real number on her paint job.
Ben said, “Call it what you like, you were going awfully fast.” He told Maddie, “They took that corner at top speed and went into a skid.”
Emerson said, “They were aiming at me.”
To Cree, that seemed quite plausible.
Stacie said, “We were not!” She seemed near tears.
Cree couldn’t help herself. “If your daddy already paid for that car, he’s not going to like this. And if he didn’t, the dealer won’t like it.” She noticed that Troy couldn’t look at anyone and his face seemed permanently red. Now you done it, she wanted to tell him. But he already knew that.
A small white object caught her eye. She picked it up. A child’s sock.
Emerson reached for it. “Thanks. My instrument cover.” He studied his harmonica to be sure it wasn’t scratched, then put it in the sock.
Troy got into the car and tried to back it. It was stuck.
Ben said, “You might want to call for a tow.”
Cree hoped to stay and watch but Ben was more concerned about his truck. She called over her shoulder, “Hav
e a lovely time at the dance!”
On the way back, as though nothing had happened, Ben resumed their earlier conversation. “When you were so-called pumping that kid, did you get anything helpful?”
Cree made an effort to rein in her thoughts. “There was nothing to get. I’m sure he was asleep but they won’t believe him. Even Olive. She told me they were taking him to the police station, a little five-year-old, and it didn’t bother her a bit. I had to go and make sure they were treating him right. That’s when my tires got slashed.”
“Did anybody see you go in there?”
“What do you mean?”
“The police station.”
Maddie whispered, “Ben is big on conspiracy theories.”
He glared at her. “Things happen. Take those bicycle tires, for instance.”
Maddie rolled her eyes.
“As for you,” he told Cree, “back off. You’re not supposed to meddle in a police investigation.”
“I wasn’t meddling!”
“You were if you questioned the kid. Not only that, you could have a real problem if somebody besides the police doesn’t want you nosing around.”
She didn’t like the way it sounded, but couldn’t help thinking he might have a point. If somebody did take Kip, which seemed the only real possibility, chances were a hundred percent they wouldn’t want Cree or anyone else finding out.
As soon as they reached her house, she could hear the vacuum cleaner. Grandma was at it again.
Ben lifted down her bike and handed it to her. He glanced at the house, not offering to take her bike inside. She wanted to invite them in, but not with Grandma making that racket.
“I don’t know how to thank you for all your help,” she told Ben, and hoped she wasn’t piling it on too thick. It was hard to know with a person like him.
She reached out to touch his arm, Grandma-style. “I’d ask you in, but—”
He backed away quickly, nodded a brief goodbye, and jumped into the truck. Maddie had gotten in front. Her lips moved as if she was trying to say something without Ben hearing.
Cree couldn’t hear it either. All she could do was wave goodbye as they backed out, turned up the hill, and disappeared.
Chapter Ten
Grandma turned off the vacuum cleaner. “Guess who’s going to look at cars tomorrow!”
Cree made an effort to get over Ben’s rebuff. Not that she cared. He was a creep and a geek and full of himself, but who liked being rebuffed?
“You are?” she said. “By yourself? Can I go, too?”
“Not by myself. Paul’s taking me, my adorable driving instructor. It was his idea. He thinks it’s about time.”
Grandma’s lashes fluttered. She had raved about Paul the whole summer. He was less than half her age, but that didn’t bother her. Grandma had more success with men than Cree did.
“It won’t be a new car,” she warned. “That’s out of my league. On the bright side, depending on how used it is, the insurance is less. There’s a letter for you on the coffee table.”
Cree could guess who it was from. Everyone else she knew lived right there in Southbridge.
It was a tissue-thin envelope with exotic stamps, addressed to both mom and herself. She admired the stamps, but took her time opening it. All he ever did was brag about his adventures, with maybe a line or two asking how things were at home, as if he cared. At one time Stacie Marr got the idea that he might not be Cree’s father, and that would account for his indifference. But Mom said he was and she knew more about it than Stacie did.
The envelope contained a tissue-thin letter written with battered, uneven type, and five photographs. One showed him holding up a large fish. Jules Penny was a wiry man with a big grin. Cree didn’t think he looked at all like her. Just possibly Stacie was right. She didn’t want Stacie to be right, especially about something so personal.
Other photos were of the ocean. A sunset. A young woman. She looked Chinese. They stood with their arms around each other. In that picture he wore a shirt, but not in the one with the fish.
Cree showed them to her grandmother. “What’s he trying to prove, how much fun he’s having without us?”
“Aren’t you having fun?” Grandma was still on a high about Paul.
“And that girl,” said Cree. “The two of them so cozy. How could he send a picture like that to Mom?”
“Honey, he and your mom were history ages ago.”
“But he still writes to us.” About once or twice a year. He never remembered Cree’s birthday. It showed how involved he was.
“He writes as a friend,” Grandma said. “Isn’t it nice he stays friendly?”
“I still think he’s bragging.”
“Look at it this way, kiddo. If people have to brag, it’s because they don’t feel as good about themselves as they want you to think.”
The letter didn’t say much. It told about the places he had been and that he sold some pictures to a Dutch magazine. He didn’t mention the woman. Cree stuffed it all into the envelope and left it for Mom.
* * * *
The next day was soggy with a cold, gray drizzle. And Kip was still out there. He couldn’t be alive. They had combed every inch. Why hadn’t they found him?
Because somebody took him, for whatever reason. Why was she the only one who believed that?
She was practicing her barre exercises when Maddie called. “Are you busy right now? I need some help and I can’t ask anybody from Lakeside.”
She owed Maddie big time. “What is it, homework?”
“No, it’s more important. Can I pick you up in ten?”
“Is your brother going to be there?” Cree asked.
“Absolutely not. He can’t know anything about this, so don’t you dare tell him.”
Cree thought it unlikely that she would ever have a chance to tell Ben anything. She changed out of her practice clothes, brushed and repinned her ponytail and, after some thought, put on lip-gloss. She felt drab without it.
Maddie’s ten minutes stretched to forty-five. She arrived wearing a purple raincoat and matching floppy hat. As they settled in the car, Cree asked, “What exactly are we doing?”
“I want to bust somebody’s chops,” Maddie said. “No, I really do, but first I have to find out what’s going on with her and before that I have to find her. I mean, where she lives. I can’t do that at school.”
“Does she go to Lakeside?”
“Yes.” Maddie dropped her voice as if the car might be bugged, which it probably wasn’t. “Ben used to like her. He thought they had a lot in common, but when he asked her out, she totally freaked. Being Ben, he couldn’t let it go. He had to know what bothered her and get things back on track. He likes a nice, orderly world where everyone gets along and he couldn’t understand that she didn’t want to talk about it, which I don’t understand either. It would have saved a lot of trouble, especially for Ben.”
Cree said, “She might not care about saving trouble for Ben.”
“That’s for sure, and he walked right into it. He kept after her until she reported him to the headmaster, who called in the school’s attorney, who spent a couple of hours browbeating my brother. Hours he spent, and I mean yelling.”
Maddie stopped her rant, and laughed. “Just listen to me. When we were kids we used to fight all the time, but now I’m standing up for him, and you know why? They’re bringing charges. Can you believe it?”
“Like criminal charges?”
“Isn’t that what charges usually are? It’s so unfair. They should understand about Ben. He can’t help the way he is. He never was a threat, but she’s so psycho, she’s carrying a knife. Can you believe they’d let her bring a knife to school?”
“They wouldn’t at Southbridge,” said Cree.
“Do you know what I think? It’s a big plot to get him out of Lakeside, because he’s different and that bothers people. He said it himself, people don’t like weird. I mean the difference isn’t all that obvious, but i
t’s enough so that when things happen, like him bothering her, people notice.”
“He must have really bothered her, if she was carrying a knife.”
“It couldn’t have been that bad. She’s crazy in the head. They should do something about her, why don’t they? If they won’t, I will, but first I have to find her. I already tried the phone book.”
“Why couldn’t she just tell him she wasn’t interested?” said Cree. “Or lie a little and say she was involved with someone. People do it all the time.”
“She might have said something, but not so he got it. With Ben, you have to say exactly what you mean. They should know that. All they had to do was explain it so it made sense to him.”
Ben may have been weird, even creepy, but he seemed perfectly intelligent. “What do you mean?”
“Well, see, people have this habit of being indirect. Maybe they think it’s polite, but Ben doesn’t always get it. It’s as if they’re speaking Bulgarian and he doesn’t know Bulgarian. He’s really smart, but if it’s not direct and concrete—that’s how my mom puts it—then he doesn’t always know what they’re talking about.”
Maddie slowed as they came to the bridge that gave Southbridge its name. It crossed the Vanorden Kill, a broad but shallow stream that tumbled over rocks until it reached the Hudson River. The bridge was narrow, barely wide enough for one car.
At the other end of it, the road turned left and began a steep climb. There it became a dark tunnel, with tall hemlocks on the creek side and a high granite cliff on the other.
“This is spooky,” said Cree. “It’s so dark, and that cliff.”
“You get used to it. Do you mind if we stop at my house? I need to check on something.”
“Not at all. I don’t even know what we’re doing. I can wait in the car.”
Maddie gave her an odd look. “What for? It might take a while. My house won’t eat you.”
“It’s your brother. He hates me.”
“Ben hates you? Why would you think that?”
At the top of the hill the road flattened, branching into a T. Maddie turned right and rephrased her question.
Cree said, “I was thanking him and I started to touch his arm and he jumped away like I was poison.”
Twenty Minutes Late Page 7
