“Oh, Mom,” said Jessie. Did you see the $25.00 in a bag by the cash box?”
“I did,” said her mother. “I left it on the kitchen counter. Why was it in a bag?”
“Thanks for keeping it. It was from that woman who came Tuesday after school. I kept it for fingerprints.”
Her mother smiled. “I figured it might be some kind of clue.”
Jessie smiled back. Boy, Mom’s getting smarter every day!
Chapter Sixteen
When the doorbell rang on Saturday, Jessie ran to greet Bryce. She had on a blue parka and snow boots and carried a red zippered envelope with her music inside. He was smiling and so was she.
The sun was bright and most of the sidewalks had been cleared of snow. The two hurried toward the library in the Square.
“What music are you learning?” asked Bryce. He looked fresh from the shower and his hair shone in the sunlight. He wore jeans and a soft green sweater under a camel-color barn coat.
“I have my very first Beethoven piece,” Jessie said. It’s beautiful—and not too hard.”
“I’m working on Beethoven, too,” Bryce said. “He’s the best, I think.”
“With the piano, I hear that Chopin is ‘The One,’” Jessie said. “I can hardly wait.”
“Anything new on the kidnapping?” Bryce asked. He took her free hand and they jumped together over an icy patch.
Now I can’t think, thought Jessie. “Uh…nothing that I know of. My dad is not telling me much because he thinks Tina and I will do something crazy.”
Bryce laughed. “Well I suppose that could happen. But he liked the idea of the garage sale, didn’t he?”
“Sure. Sometimes he gives me credit for being smart. He just worries. Does your dad worry?”
“If he does, he doesn’t show it. Maybe it’s different with boys.”
“You know, Mrs. Livingston has been out of town for a couple of weeks. Do you think she knows anything about the kidnapping?”
“Probably not,” said Bryce. “I don’t think she’s interested in local news. Her whole life is about music.”
By now they were at the library. Bryce hurried up the steps and turned to wave before he opened the big double doors.
Oh, honestly will I ever get over melting when I’m around him? She waved back, cut across the snow in the Square and headed to her piano lesson.
Mrs. Livingston’s home studio was a block past the town center and on the edge of a wheat field. She had just moved in this fall and the house was a perfect little Victorian surrounded by a white picket fence. Painted white with red shutters, it had a pitched roof with lacey wood trim on the eaves. Jessie stood and admired it before she went inside.
Two small dogs with wagging tails raced down the sidewalk toward Jessie. They were tugging back and forth on some kind of object they held between them. Jessie watched them having a great time at their game. As they got closer, she could see they held something blue. A chill ran over her scalp. “Hi, you two. Come here, little doggies,” she said.
Both dogs stopped about three feet from her. They looked wary.
Jessie squatted down to their level. “Nice dogs. Can you come here and see me?”
The dogs stared at her. Then they turned toward the street and took off.
“Stop!” shouted Jessie. “Come!” she ordered.
She was amazed when they turned back and walked toward her. As they got next to Jessie, she said in a soft voice, “Good dogs.” One sat with the object dangling from its mouth. She reached out and gently grabbed the dog’s collar. “You are such a good dog. May I see your toy?”
She unhooked the object from his tooth and petted him at the same time. “Let’s see what your tag says. Hold still. Good Dog!” It was a red rabies tag with the number 68555 stamped on it. She let him go. Jessie could see the other dog had no collar. All of a sudden, both dogs took off down the street.
Jessie opened her hand to look at their toy. It was a blue newborn identity bracelet and its letters spelled NOVAK.
She felt stunned. For a minute she couldn’t move. Her heart was pounding.
“Jessica,” Mrs. Livingston said from her front porch. “Do you know those dogs?”
Jessie opened the gate and walked toward the house.
“No. Do you know who they belong to?” she asked.
“I’ve never seen them before,” answered her teacher. “I don’t think it’s a good idea to pet strange dogs.”
Jessie slipped the bracelet into her pocket. “You’re probably right. But they seemed friendly and were so cute.”
“Well, come inside. We should start your lesson,” said her teacher. She held the door open and Jessie went inside.
In the studio, Jessie removed her parka and hung it on an iron coat post. Her mind was whirling. If I can get through this lesson it’ll be a miracle.
“It’s so good to see you, Jessica. Did you practice every day while I was gone?”
“I might have missed one or two days,” said Jessie. She sat at the piano but her hands shook.
“Why, Jessica, what’s the matter. Are you nervous?” asked Mrs. Livingston. “Maybe we should just talk for a while. Do you like the Beethoven?”
For a minute Jessie forgot the bracelet. “I love it. I feel so grown up getting to play it.”
“It’s a big step!” said her teacher. “And such a lovely piece. Do you want to try it now?”
Jessie opened the music book and began to play. For the next fifty minutes she forgot all about what was in her pocket.
When the doorbell rang, Jessie jerked.
“My, you are jumpy today, Dear. That’s just my next student.” The teacher stood and headed for the door. “I’ll see you next week. Remember practice every day.”
Jessie hurried to the coat rack, put on her parka and felt in the pocket to make sure the bracelet was still there.
Mrs. Livingston stepped into the studio with Bryce following her.
For a brief moment, the teacher was facing the other way. Jessie looked at Bryce with her fingers spread out on the front of her parka.
For a second Bryce stared at her. Then he gave a little nod and walked into the studio.
Jessie stepped into the hallway, went to the front door and quietly left the house.
Chapter Seventeen
Bryce opened the café door and hurried to the booth at the back where Jessie sat. In front of her was an untouched Coke, a napkin with a number written on it and the blue identity bracelet.
“What is this?” Bryce asked. He sat down and slid the napkin toward himself. “Where’d this come from, Jessie?”
“From a dog’s mouth,” said Jessie. “I cannot believe this, Bryce.” She flipped her braid back over her shoulder.
“Just tell me,” he said.
“I was going into Mrs. Livingston’s for my lesson and these two little dogs came running toward me hanging on to this bracelet.” She took a gulp of her drink. “At first they wouldn’t come to me, but I got down to their level and spoke real softly to them. That didn’t work and they ran into the street.” She took a big breath. “I shouted at them to ‘Come’ and they did!” Jessie pulled the napkin back in front of her. “I got hold of one of the dog’s collar and unhooked the bracelet from his tooth. He also had a rabies tag. That’s the number.”
Bryce looked at the number. “I can call the vet where we take Farley. I’ll just say we found a dog with this number and we want to return it to the owners.” He took the napkin. “Describe the dog so I can tell him.”
“It was black and white with a shaggy coat—sort of long.”
“How much do you think he weighed?”
“Oh my gosh. I don’t know,” said Jessie. “How much does Farley weigh?”
“About sixty pounds,” said Bryce.
“Well this dog was no sixty pounds. Maybe ten pounds.” She sat up straight and looked alarmed. “Will your vet be in his office today, Saturday afternoon?”
“I don’t know. But
his house is right behind his office. I can probably call him at home.” He picked up the bracelet. “What will you do now?”
“I’m going right home and show the bracelet to my dad.” She stood up. “We have to move fast on this!”
They hurried out the café door and down the street to the corner where they turned and began to run.
At Jessie’s house, Bryce said, “I’ll call Dr. Carter about the rabies tag.” He started across the street. “I’ll let you know what I find out.”
Jessie ran to her front porch and turned to say, “Maybe they’ll go to the dog’s house tonight!”
Bryce waved and ran to his yard.
Inside her house, Jessie called out for her mother but no one answered. On the kitchen counter were two notes. One was from her mother. It said:
Jessie. Dad called from Lincoln and asked me to come there for dinner and to stay overnight. Mrs. Winter is here babysitting and will fix you something to eat tonight and tomorrow. We should be back by tomorrow night (Sunday). See you then. Love, Mom
The second note was from Mrs. Winter, the babysitter. It said:
Jessie. I’ve taken Phillip for a walk. We’ll be back by five o’clock for supper. Leave a note if you’re going anywhere. See you soon. Mrs. Winter
I cannot believe this. What should I do? Jessie ran to the hall phone and called Bryce. He answered the phone.
“You aren’t going to believe this!”
“What happened?” he asked.
“My folks went out of town until tomorrow night,” said Jessie. “I was going to hand over the bracelet to Daddy.”
“Well I talked to the vet and he gave me a name. But it’s in the country and there’s no way to go out there before dark. Plus we’re supposed to have a huge snowstorm tonight.”
“What’s the name?”
“Colson. They actually brought the dog to him for his rabies shot. The dog’s name is Buster.”
“Did he know anything about these Colson people?” asked Jessie.
“He said he only met them once and thought they were new in town.”
“Very interesting. Did he say anything else about them?”
“I said sometimes young people with children get distracted and don’t watch the dog. You know-fishing for information,” said Bryce. “Dr. Carter sort of laughed and said, ‘No, this was an older couple and they didn’t have any children with them when they came in for the shot.’”
“Wow,” Jessie said. “This is beginning to fit the puzzle. You got a lot of information for a short conversation with the vet.”
“I’m practicing up. I’m thinking of law school later. I have to know how to get information,” Bryce said.
“Really,” Jessie said. “Not music school?”
“Oh, I’ll always play the violin,” he said. “I can do both.”
“Funny,” said Jessie. “I’ve been thinking about law school too. I like what my dad does.”
“Great, we’ll go together,” said Bryce. “Maybe we should try out for the debate team next year.”
“Well, my parents say I can debate alright,” Jessie said. “Not that it’s a compliment. They call it arguing.”
Bryce laughed. “Listen, Jessie. I have an idea. Be on your front porch at ten o’clock tomorrow morning. Dress warm and where a hat that hides your hair.”
“What’s the idea?” Jessie asked.
“Trust me,” said Bryce.
“Okay,” she said. “I’ll be waiting.
Chapter Eighteen
After dinner Jessie practiced for two hours. It was the only thing she could think of to do in order to take her mind off the baby.
Outside, a storm raged. The wind sounded fierce and she could see snow blowing past the windows. I hope that little dog, Buster, got home. By the time she rose from the piano bench the Beethoven sounded like real music.
She went to the kitchen. “I’m going to bed, Mrs. Winter.”
“Well goodnight, Jessie. Phillip had a bath and is already asleep.” The babysitter finished wiping down the counters. “I’ll see you in the morning.”
“Oh, by the way,” said Jessie. “Bryce Peterson is stopping by in the morning around ten o’clock. We’re going to take a walk through the snow.”
“Is that alright with your mother?” asked Mrs. Winter.
“Oh sure. She won’t mind. Goodnight,” Jessie said.
In her bedroom, Jessie sat at her desk and listed all the reasons why she thought the kidnapped baby might live at the same house as Buster the dog.
1. Buster had the identity bracelet with NOVAK spelled on it.
2. Buster lived at the house on the county road. (Where else could he have gotten it? Answer: anywhere else.)
3. Buster’s owners are older and seem to have no children according to Dr. Carter, the veterinarian. (could have left children at home)
4. Buster’s owners—The Colsons—were new in town (Renting or owning the house?)
5. Bryce and I will try to go by the Colson house. I guess we’ll have to walk.
6. Should I call police yet? (wait until you go by the Colson house and check it out)
She looked at the list and thought it was pretty thin, evidence-wise.
All night, Jessie tossed and turned. Every time she woke, she heard the storm roaring outside. Finally at seven o’clock, she could stand it no more. She got up, made her bed and quietly washed her face and brushed her teeth.
Dressed in fleece-lined pants and a thick turtleneck pullover, she took a heavy quilted jacket, warm scarf, stocking cap and wooly mittens from her closet. Carrying her snow boots, she tiptoed down the stairs and set the boots and coat by the front door.
In the kitchen, she fixed toast and cereal then sat at the table and ate.
She thought ten o’clock would never come. Watching the clock seemed to make the time crawl. At five of ten, she put on her boots over thick wool socks, zipped up her coat, pulled the knit hat down almost to her eyes and tucked her braid inside it. She could hear Phillip upstairs talking to Mrs. Winter. Jessie pulled on her mittens, carefully opened the door and slipped out onto the porch. I hear bells. But those aren’t church bells.
A prancing horse pulled a beautiful sleigh from Bryce’s driveway. It was red and big with a row of seats facing one another. Bells were attached to it and rang as the sleigh moved.
Looking at this fancy rig, Jessie could hardly believe her eyes. Bryce sat on the upper seat next to Mr. Sanderson, the museum caretaker, who was driving the horse.
The sleigh stopped in front of her house and Jessie ran to the curb. “Where did this come from?” she said. “It looks like something in the movies!”
Bryce hopped down laughing, helped her into the sleigh and sat down beside her. “Isn’t it great?” Mr. Sanderson found it in the storage building with old museum stuff. He’s been restoring it. Be sure to fasten your seat belt.” Bryce covered their laps with a thick wool blanket.
Jessie hooked her seat belt buckle. “Did they have seat belts on sleds in the old days?”
Bryce laughed. “My dad had them installed.”
Mr. Sanderson turned to them and said, “You kids ready?”
“We’re ready, Mr. Sanderson,” said Jessie. “It’s a beautiful sleigh.”
“Whose horse is it?” Jessie asked Bryce.
“It’s his. Her name is Dolly. I guess he had a horse and sleigh in Sweden when he was young.”
“Does he know what we’re doing?” Jessie asked.
“Yes,” said Bryce. “We have it all planned. I couldn’t figure out why the dog would be in Mrs. Livingston’s neighborhood if he lived in the country.” He pulled on thick wool gloves. “So I looked at the street map in Dad’s car and the Colson house is only about six blocks from the Livingston house. It’s right over the city line and on an unpaved road.”
“What’s the plan?” Jessie asked.
“Mr. Sanderson will take us for a little ride and come at the Colson house from a different direction,�
� said Bryce. “Then, when we get close to the house, you will feel sick. I’m sure you can slump over and act sick, Jessie. Then I’ll run up to the door and knock loud. I’ll ask to use their phone to call your mom.”
“Do you think that’s dangerous?” asked Jessie.
“What are they going to do? Shoot me?” Bryce laughed.
“Maybe. Don’t laugh. Daddy says people who steal a baby are real criminals.”
“What I’m trying to do is knock so loud that it will wake up a baby,” said Bryce.
“It’s good,” Jessie said. “If you hear a baby crying, we’re going right to the police station and show them the bracelet. We’ll tell them what we know,” Jessie said.
“Right. I told Mr. Sanderson that too.”
The storm was over, the sun was out and the deep snow sparkled on the streets and lawns. Dolly, the horse, stepped high and threw her head about. She was almost smiling in the chill air. Bryce took Jessie’s mittened hand under the lap rug. For a few minutes, Jessie leaned her head back and enjoyed the ride. This must be what Heaven is like, she thought.
Too soon the sleigh turned onto the unpaved road. The farm fields were covered with snow as far as one could see. It was like a magic land: The blue cloudless sky, the red barns and white farmhouses surrounded by groves of evergreens. Is there anything prettier in the world than the countryside? thought Jessie.
Out of the corner of her eye she saw something move. It was an animal racing beside the sleigh. “Wait. Stop, Mr. Sanderson!” Jessie shouted.
“Whoa, Dolly.” The driver pulled back on the reins and the sleigh came to a halt.
“Look, Bryce. It’s Buster!”
Bryce threw back the blanket, unbuckled his seat belt and jumped from the sleigh. “Here, Buster,” he called.
The dog slowed down and looked at Bryce. He was so small the snow almost buried him. Warily he came toward Bryce. “Good dog. Want a ride?”
Buster wagged his tail and edged closer. Gently, Bryce picked him up and got back into the sled. “This is perfect. I’ll carry Buster to the front door and ask the Colsons if they know where he lives.” He looked at Jessie. “So just look away. You don’t have to pretend you’re ill.”
Taken Page 6