Just then, David Michael kicked a big fountain of water all over both of us. Then he took off. We ran after him, laughing and shaking the water off as we headed toward home.
When we reached my house, I asked Bart in. “You might as well stay here until the rain lets up a little,” I said. He agreed. We went into the kitchen, where it was nice and warm. Nannie was baking cookies, and they smelled delicious. “Chocolate chip?” I asked, hugging her.
“Kristy Thomas, what are you doing?” she said, laughing. “You are soaking wet, and you’re getting me wet, too. Why don’t you find some towels. By the time you dry off the cookies will be done. They’re for my bowling league potluck supper, but you can have a few. And yes, they’re chocolate chip.”
I ran upstairs to the linen closet and grabbed an armful of towels. Then I brought them downstairs and passed them out to Bart and David Michael. We all sat around the kitchen table, rubbing ourselves dry and breathing in the smell of Nannie’s cookies.
Nannie’s great at baking, but she doesn’t do it that often. She usually doesn’t have time! She’s not like a storybook grandmother, who spends her days baking and knitting. She goes bowling, and drives around in her cool pink car (we call it the Pink Clinker), and volunteers at different places like the library and the Foodshelf. Plus she spends a lot of time taking care of Emily Michelle. Who was, at the moment, asleep in her crib. Which was why Nannie had time to bake those cookies.
“Well, I hope you like them,” she said, putting a plate down in the middle of the table. “I tried something a little different this time. More chips and fewer walnuts.”
David Michael took one in each hand. Bart was a little more polite — he just took one. “Wow, these are great,” he said. “I think I like them this way.”
“Me, too,” I agreed. “The chips are the best part.” I got up and poured us each a glass of milk, and then the three of us sat and ate cookies until only crumbs were left on the plate. Nannie watched us, smiling.
“Well, I hate to eat and run,” said Bart, “but it looks as if the rain is over, and I better get home.” He stood up and handed me the towel. “Thanks,” he said. “That was fun.”
“It was,” I agreed, knowing that he was talking about the whole afternoon, not just the cookie part. I walked him to the door. “See you,” I called as he headed down the walk.
I heard the phone ring as I turned back into the house. “Kristy,” called Nannie. “It’s for you.”
I ran to the kitchen and picked up the phone. “Hello?” I said.
“Kristy, it’s Caroline Kuhn. I was just wondering — is Jake with you?”
“Jake?” I asked, taken by surprise. “No, he headed home after practice. He said it was okay with you if he walked by himself.” Oh, no, I thought. Had Jake made that up? Should I have insisted on walking him home?
“Oh,” Mrs. Kuhn replied. “He was right. I did say that. Anyway, Jake’s not here, but I only just got home with the girls. Maybe he’s been here and gone already. He might have gone to Buddy’s house and forgotten to leave me a note. I’ll try calling the Barretts’.” She didn’t sound too worried.
“Good idea,” I said. “I hope you track him down soon.” I hung up and turned to clean off the kitchen table. Then I helped Nannie start dinner, which was going to be chili and rice. I put the water on to boil and measured out the rice. Then I began to make a salad.
Just as I was finishing that job, the phone rang again. I put down the knife I was using to cut up carrots, and picked up the receiver. “Hello?” I said.
“Kristy, it’s Caroline Kuhn again. There’s still no sign of Jake. I’ve called every friend of his that I can think of, and nobody’s seen him. Have you heard from him?”
“No, I haven’t,” I said. “Wow, I wonder where he is.”
“I’m going to go looking for him in my car,” she said. She was beginning to sound pretty worried. “The rain has stopped, but he must be soaked, wherever he is. He’ll be glad to get a ride home.”
“I’ll make some calls,” I said. “Maybe one of my friends has seen him.”
“That would be great,” said Mrs. Kuhn. “I’ll check in with you in about a half hour.”
I called Mary Anne and Dawn, Claudia, and Jessi. None of them had seen Jake Kuhn. Claud said she’d call Stacey for me, and Jessi offered to call Mal. “Maybe he’s at the library or something,” said Jessi. “Maybe he remembered some homework he had to do.”
“Could be.” I didn’t really think that was likely. Still, I called the library to ask if he was there. No one had seen him. And I didn’t hear back from Stacey or Mal, so I figured they hadn’t seen him either.
The phone rang again right after I’d called Bart to let him know what had happened. It was Mrs. Kuhn again, and she didn’t sound all that worried anymore. Now she sounded mad.
“I’ve figured it out,” she said. “Harry must have taken him.”
Harry? “Mr. Kuhn?” I asked, guessing.
“That’s right,” she said. “He wanted to take Jake to Europe, and I said no. So he just decided to come and take him. I can’t believe it!”
I couldn’t believe it either. “Are you sure?” I asked.
“It’s the most likely explanation,” she said. “Harry hates to take no for an answer. And Jake would have jumped right into the car with him. He was so disappointed when I wouldn’t let him go on that trip.”
I shuddered, imagining Jake jumping into a car. The idea was kind of creepy. Why do adults have to act so weird when they get divorced?
“As soon as they’ve had time to fly back to Texas, I’m going to call Harry and give him a piece of my mind,” said Mrs. Kuhn. “Thanks for your help, Kristy.”
I couldn’t figure out what I’d done to help, but it was nice of her to thank me anyway. “You’re welcome,” I said. “Good luck!” I didn’t know what else to say. I hung up and stood there looking at the phone. Suddenly I felt a pang of guilt. After all, I’d been the last one to see Jake. If he was really missing, maybe it was partly my fault. I thought again about Jake jumping into a car. If he had done that, I sure hoped it was Mr. Kuhn’s car. What if Jake had jumped into a stranger’s car? I shuddered. Wherever Jake was, I just hoped he was safe.
Mallory was feeling pretty anxious and upset herself that evening. After giving the situation more thought, Mrs. Kuhn had decided she couldn’t ignore the possibility that Jake might be in serious trouble. She began her own search. She’d called Mrs. Pike to ask if she could watch Laurel and Patsy for a while. Mrs. Kuhn must have realized that her search would be more complicated with the girls along, and that her worrying would only upset them. She and Mrs. Pike are good friends, and Laurel and Patsy are friends with Margo and Claire, so it was natural for her to bring them to the Pikes’ house.
So, while I was home making phone calls, Mal was helping her mom deal with a houseful of kids. All of her brothers and sisters were home, so when you added Patsy and Laurel, that made nine kids, plus Mal! Mal was trying to keep them busy while her mom figured out what to have for dinner.
“Adam!” Mallory said. “My dearest darling favorite triplet-with-a-name-beginning-with-A!”
(Adam is the only triplet with a name beginning with A. The other triplets’ names are Byron and Jordan.)
“What do you want me to do?” Adam asked.
“Take your brothers and set the table for twelve. You set out the glasses, Jordan can set out the plates, Byron can do silverware, and Nicky can fold napkins. Have a race. See who gets his job done first.”
“Right, sir!” said Adam, saluting. “Fall in, men!” he said to his brothers. “About face! Forward march!” He led the parade into the dining room. The triplets are ten, and Nicky’s eight. They’re old enough to be responsible about doing jobs around the house. They’re also old enough to give Mal a hard time about bossing them around.
“Now,” said Mallory, turning to the five girls who were left with her in the rec room. “Let’s see. How about —” She thought fast. Wha
t would be a good activity to keep everyone entertained until dinner? “How about a Barbie fashion show?” she asked.
“Yay!” Claire squealed. She’s five, and she loves to play with her Barbies. “I just got a new outfit for my Skipper. It’s for going bowling!”
“I get to put Barbie’s wedding dress on!” yelled Margo. She’s seven, and lately she’s been obsessed with weddings. Mal says she talks about them all the time. What kind of flowers the bride should carry, how long her train should be — all that stuff.
Mal noticed that Patsy and Laurel were hanging back. “I know you guys don’t have your Barbies with you,” she said. “But we’ve got a whole bunch of them here. You can take your pick.” There are about a zillion Barbies in the Pike household. That’s what happens when you have four girls growing up in one home. Laurel and Patsy squatted down by the toy chest and started to pull out various pieces of Barbie clothing.
Vanessa was standing in the doorway with her arms folded. “And what am I to do today?” she asked. “I’m too old for Barbie play.”
Remember I told you that Vanessa wants to be a poet? Well, to keep in practice, she tries to speak in rhyme whenever possible. It drives Mal crazy.
Mal rolled her eyes. She knew that Vanessa did, occasionally, still play with Barbies — which meant that Vanessa’s question had just been an excuse for a rhyme. But she didn’t want to argue. “Why don’t you be the judge of the fashion show?” she asked. “We can have prizes for Fanciest Outfit, Silliest Outfit, or whatever else you can think of.” She rummaged around in the art supplies kept on a shelf. “Here, these stickers can be the prizes.”
Vanessa looked satisfied with her new role, and the hour before dinner flew by without any more problems. Still, Mal was relieved when her mom called to say that dinner was ready. Mr. Pike was home from work by then, and he helped to make sure everyone’s hands were washed and that everyone had a seat at the crowded table.
Mrs. Pike had made a huge pot of spaghetti, since she knows it’s a food that most kids will eat.
Of course, there are always exceptions.
“I hate spaghetti!” said Patsy as soon as she saw her plate.
“Patsy!” said Laurel. “You’re not supposed to say that when you’re being company at somebody else’s house.” She looked over at Mrs. Pike. “She doesn’t know,” she said. “She’s only five.”
“You be quiet!” said Patsy, frowning at Laurel. “You’re not the boss of me!”
Mallory realized that Patsy was probably missing her mom, and also feeling a little anxious about her routine being disrupted. “Mom, don’t we have some hot dogs in the fridge?” she asked. Mrs. Pike nodded. “Do you like hot dogs?” she said, turning to Patsy.
“I love hot dogs!” said Patsy.
“So do I!” cried Adam.
“Me too!” cried Claire.
“Hot dogs, hot dogs, we want hot dogs!” yelled about five kids at once.
Mrs. Pike looked sadly at her huge pot of spaghetti. Then she looked at Mal and shrugged. “Go ahead,” she said. “Boil up some hot dogs, if that’s what everyone wants.” Mrs. Pike doesn’t waste time arguing with the kids over what they eat. If she did that with all eight kids, she wouldn’t have time left to do anything else!
So Mal went into the kitchen and got the hot dogs out of the fridge. She was just putting a pan of water on to boil when the phone rang. “Hello?” said Mal, sticking the receiver under her chin as she checked the flame on the stove.
“Mal, it’s Jessi. Kristy called an emergency club meeting. Can you come?” Jessi sounded tense.
“Now that my dad’s home, I’m sure I can. It’s about Jake, right?” asked Mal.
“Right,” said Jessi. “Come over to Claud’s as soon as you can, okay?”
* * *
By the time Mal got to the meeting, the rest of us were already there. All except Mary Anne, that is.
“She’s going nuts trying to hem this dumb skirt she made,” explained Dawn. “It’s supposed to be done tomorrow, and she just can’t get the hang of that kind of stitch you’re supposed to use — you know, the one where the sewing doesn’t show?”
“The slip stitch,” said Stacey. “I know how to do that. It is kind of hard, though.”
“Poor Mary Anne,” said Logan, shaking his head. He and Shannon, our associate members, were both there for the emergency meeting, since I had decided that the more brains we had in the room, the better. “She told me when I called that she’d already ripped it out three times. She sounded like she was about to lose her temper.”
“Mary Anne?” I said. “Lose her temper? I don’t believe it.” Mary Anne is such a mouse most of the time. I realized that the home-ec problem must really be worrying her.
“Well, anyway,” I went on. “We have much more important things to talk about. Is everyone up-to-date on the situation with Jake Kuhn?”
My friends nodded.
“You know,” said Mal. “I have to say that I just don’t think Mrs. Kuhn is right about her husband taking Jake away. I mean, today at the game? When his team was up at bat? We were talking, and he couldn’t stop telling me about his Turtle birthday party. He is so excited about it. I just don’t think he’d leave Stoneybrook right before that party.”
I nodded. “I was thinking the same thing,” I said. “Plus, I told him that he’ll be pitching for the Krushers soon. I know he wouldn’t want to miss that, either.”
Just then the phone rang. I nearly jumped out of my skin. Could it be Mrs. Kuhn, calling to say that Jake was home safe?
“It’s Mary Anne,” said Claud, who had grabbed the phone. “She’s still working on that hem, but she wanted to check in.”
I let out a breath. “Tell her thanks — and that there’s no news yet,” I said. Claud repeated the message.
“You know what else?” said Dawn. “My mom says she’s known Harry Kuhn since he was a little kid, and that he was always really decent. I don’t think she believes he’d steal his own kid, and I don’t either.”
“My parents like Mr. Kuhn, too,” said Claudia. “Mom says he volunteers every single year for the library’s book sale.” (Mrs. Kishi is head librarian at the Stoneybrook library.)
I didn’t think that volunteering at the library proved Mr. Kuhn was innocent, but I had to agree with the others. He probably hadn’t taken Jake. But what if he was really, really upset about missing his son’s birthday? Maybe he was desperate. Still, I just didn’t think Jake would have gone with his dad, even if Mr. Kuhn had tried to kidnap him. What a mess. The emergency meeting wasn’t getting us anywhere, but it was good to be together, talking about Jake. The situation was pretty scary. A kid was missing.
I heard the doorbell ring, and Claud’s phone rang at exactly the same time. It was Mary Anne. On the phone, that is. Stacey gave her an update while the rest of us helped ourselves to the Doritos Claud was passing around. I had just put a handful of them into my mouth when I heard a knock on the door.
“Come in,” said Claud. The door opened, and I saw Claud’s sister Janine standing there with a strange look on her face.
Behind her were two policemen, one tall, and one short and wide. “We’re looking for Kristy Thomas,” the tall one said, in a deep voice.
I almost choked on my Doritos. “That’s me!” I answered, after I’d coughed until tears were coming out of my eyes.
“Your mother said you’d be here. We understand you were the last person to see the missing boy today. His mother seems fairly sure about what happened to him, but while we’re trying to locate Mr. Kuhn, we’re also doing a neighborhood check. We’d like to ask you some questions.”
I told the cops everything I knew, and gave them my opinion on the case, too — even though they didn’t ask for it.
By the time we finished up our meeting and Mal went back home that night, she felt pretty confused and tired. And she found two confused and tired girls waiting for her there. Patsy and Laurel. It had been a long day for them, too.
After the emergency meeting, Shannon and I went outside to wait for Charlie to pick us up. Shannon lives across the street from me, which is how we met in the first place. She goes to a private school, not to SMS, so I’d never even seen her until I moved. It’s nice to have a friend in my neighborhood, since I live so far from my old friends now.
We sat down to wait on the Kishis’ front steps. “I just can’t believe it,” I said, shaking my head. “One minute Jake is there, and the next …”
“I know,” said Shannon. “How could a kid just disappear?”
“You hear about these things happening,” I said. “You see those kids’ pictures on milk cartons. But you never think about it happening to a kid you know.”
“Maybe he’s not really missing, though,” said Shannon. “I bet he’ll turn up soon. Those kids on the milk cartons have been missing for months, or even years.”
Months! Years! I couldn’t begin to imagine how I would feel if Jake were gone that long. Not to mention how Mrs. Kuhn would feel. Just then I heard a car horn. “There’s Charlie!” I said, standing up. But then I got a closer look at the car. It was our green station wagon, not Charlie’s Junk Bucket. And my mom was driving.
Shannon and I walked to the car and got in. “Hi, Mrs. Brewer,” said Shannon.
“Hi, Mom,” I said. “How come you’re picking us up instead of Charlie?”
“I wanted to stop in and see Caroline Kuhn,” she said. My mom and Mrs. Kuhn have been friends for a while, ever since they started to take this aerobics class together. “I thought you’d want to come with me,” she continued.
“Sure,” I said. “I wonder if there’s any news.”
“Don’t get your hopes up,” my mom said. “When I called Caroline to let her know I was coming, she still hadn’t heard anything.”
“Is she upset?” I asked.
“Very,” said my mom. “And very angry at Harry. She’s still pretty sure he took Jake.”
“What do you think?” I asked. “Do you think he did it?”
“Oh, hon, I don’t know,” said my mom. “I would never have thought Harry was capable of doing something like that, but divorce does make people do strange things.”
Kristy and the Missing Child Page 3