by Bill Bunn
“She has?” One of Larry’s eyebrows raised as he asked the question. “I don’t think anyone reported her missing.”
“Call her father. He’ll tell you that she wasn’t at home last night. If he even noticed,” Steve added to himself.
“What’s her last name?” Larry asked.
“Locket.”
Larry fingered through the phone book until he found the right name and address and then dialed a number.
“Hello, Mr. Locket? This is the Police Department calling.” Larry stared at the floor as he concentrated. “Was your daughter at home last night?” He paused. “No, eh? I didn’t think so… I think you should file a report with our department today. No, you should fill out a report right away.” He paused to listen to the voice on the other end. “I’m sorry, but I don’t have the time to explain the details. Your daughter is involved in an investigation, and the fact that she’s missing is important and needs to be reported.” He listened again. “Yes, the main office, right on King Street. Thank you. Bye.”
Larry looked up at Steve as he replaced the phone in its cradle. “Hmm. Your story makes some sense. I’m almost inclined to believe you. Why steal the pictures?”
“We thought the pictures would help us figure out how my mother disappeared. They tore Aunt Shannon’s house apart hoping to catch Uncle Edward and me at home. I hid, and so they left with the pictures and Uncle Edward. I found the ransom note and read it. That’s why my fingerprints were on it.”
“I’m not sure…” Larry said, shaking his head.
“I’m the one who took the pictures from that file,” Aunt Shannon announced. “It was my doing entirely.” She took a breath and tried again. “I don’t think you’d be any worse off if you trusted us. The most we could do is steal the ransom note. You’re already in so much trouble that even if we did that, I don’t think it could get much worse.”
“You have a point,” Larry sighed.
“One of us can stay with you, too,” Steve suggested. “That way, if something doesn’t work out, you can at least turn one of us in.”
Larry almost managed a grin. “Now you’re talking my language,” Larry said. “I can check out parts of your story, too. If the phone was tapped, I’ll be able to tell.”
“And if you help this case come to a close, you might just look good to your superiors again,” Aunt Shannon added.
“Right. Wait right here and I’ll get dressed.”
Larry emerged from a back room dressed for business. He still looked as if he’d showered with his clothes on and put himself in the dryer for forty minutes—he hadn’t shaved or combed his hair—but he had clothes on at least.
He dialed the station. “Hello, Jeff, Larry here. Listen, I have some evidence that should go in the Best file. I’m going to drop by and add it to the file. Is that all right? Good. I’ll see you in a few minutes.” He hung up the phone.
“You two might want to wait here. I’ll go and get the stuff and come right back.” Aunt Shannon nodded and continued sitting in the chair. Steve continued sitting as well. Larry strode from the room and out the front door.
As soon as Larry left, Steve turned to Aunt Shannon. “What are we going to do about Mom?”
Aunt Shannon smiled weakly, trying to hide her discouragement. “I’m not sure, Steve. Your mom, well, um, she’s going to be difficult.”
“That’s true,” Steve admitted. “Do you think I should try the same thing to get her back, or do you think there is another way?”
She shook her head. “I don’t think there is another way. If there is, I have no clue what it would be.”
“I don’t know what her Benu stone is either,” Steve added. “I knew yours, so I was able to bring you back.”
“Hmm.”
Steve’s thoughtful sigh led them both into a contemplative silence. The quiet quickly numbed his body. In a minute he had nodded to sleep, sitting upright.
Aunt Shannon let him sleep for three-quarters of an hour, until Larry returned. The detective jogged into the house and quickly closed the door. Steve’s eyes blinked open just long enough to notice Larry’s broad smile.
Aunt Shannon shook Steve’s shoulder to return him completely from his slumber. Larry began to arrange equipment on the coffee table in front of the couch where he sat.
“Before we get going here,” Larry began. “How does this traveling thing work?”
“It’s a little strange, but this is how it goes, as far as I know,” Steve replied groggily. For the next few minutes he recounted what he knew of how traveling with a Benu stone worked. Aunt Shannon added detail as Steve talked. Gradually, a troubled look of insight filled Larry’s face.
“I think I understand what you’re saying. I just have trouble believing it. I did get the note,” he continued. “I also got a little bit of detecting equipment.” He held up a small black button, about the size of a quarter, and a small device with a TV screen on it.
“Who’s going to travel to the kidnapper’s base?” Larry asked.
Steve and Aunt Shannon looked at each other.
There is no other choice, Steve thought. And, his mind plunged into pools of panic as he contemplated the idea.
Duck Boy. Duck Boy.
But his mouth spoke before his mind objected. And he surprised himself with his own words. “I’ll go.”
“All right, Steve,” Larry said appreciatively. “Though I’m not sure there’s much choice.”
“What are you talking about, young man?” barked Aunt Shannon, rebuking him. “I can go, and I am perfectly able to manage myself.” Larry suddenly looked sheepish. She turned to Steve. “Are you sure you want to go?” Aunt Shannon asked, probing Steve’s resolve.
“I have to, and I want to,” Steve declared as forcefully as he could.
“All right, Steve,” Aunt Shannon answered.
Larry held the small black button towards Steve. “This will find you wherever you go. You can take this with you, right? You can disappear with things in your bag.” Steve nodded. “So, this tracking device will sit in your backpack.”
“What’s the range on it?” Aunt Shannon asked.
“I think it’s about 25 miles.”
“I hope that’s enough,” she stated. “Steve could end up anywhere in the world.”
“Really?” Larry asked in disbelief. “That’s some form of transportation. But he could end up within the 25-mile range, too, couldn’t he?”
“Yes, he could,” Aunt Shannon agreed.
Maybe we’ll have some luck,” Larry said hopefully. “I think things are looking up right now.”
“Where is this ransom note going to take you Steve?”
“It’ll transport me to the kidnappers’ world—wherever that is, I think,” Steve replied. “Remember, we’re still experimenting. It’s just a good guess.”
“Try not to wrinkle it or damage it in any way.” He held up a plastic evidence bag. Inside was the note.
“I’m afraid I’ll have to touch the note directly,” Steve said.
Larry sighed. “I’ll accept that risk. Your fingerprints are on this anyhow.” A tormented smile wavered on his lips. Larry turned to some other things he’d brought with him. “I have a few other tools I’d like you to take with you. Here’s a cell phone.” He passed the phone to Steve. “Some pepper spray. A bulletproof vest. A helmet with a riot mask. And a couple pairs of handcuffs.” Steve stood as Larry placed the vest over his head and the riot helmet on his head. Steve tried to walk around the living room. “I can’t give you a gun, of course. I did get you a stun gun. They’re pretty safe.” Larry looked up from his pile of equipment. “Let’s try this stuff on you.”
After several minutes of struggle, Steve stood before the two adults smothered behind the layers of equipment hanging off of his thin frame. “Ack,” was all he managed to say.
“What? What’s the matter?” Larry asked as he velcroed a voice-activated microphone to the SWAT helmet Steve was wearing.
“I don’t think this stuff will work for me. Look at me. I can’t move. It’s meant for someone your size, not mine.” Steve began to remove the bulletproof vest.
“What are you doing?” Larry asked.
“I’m going to leave everything here except your cell phone. I’ll take your phone in case I end up out of the range of your tracking device.”
“Are you sure you don’t want these other things?”
“Absolutely. This stuff works for you because you’ve used it before. It won’t work for me. But I do know how to use a telephone.” Steve studied the face of the phone. “This is a weapon I know.”
Larry sighed. “All right. You do need to feel comfortable with what you’re taking.” He tossed the handcuffs on the couch and began to remove the stun gun and holster from Steve’s shoulder. Once all of the equipment was off, Steve picked up the cell phone.
“Can you tell that phone what number to dial so Steve can just push a button to reach you, Larry?” Aunt Shannon asked.
“Do you mean pre-program the telephone number?” Larry asked. Aunt Shannon nodded. “Good idea.” Larry pulled the phone from Steve’s hand. He pushed a few buttons on the phone. “There. That should do it.”
“Let’s see if it works.” Steve pushed the first button on the phone, and Larry’s home phone number rang loudly.
“Actually, give it back for a second,” Larry asked. “I should put in a long-distance version of this number, just in case.” He punched the touch screen, and passed the phone back.
“Good,” Larry said. “You’re ready.”
Steve nodded nervously. He slid the phone into his bag and picked out the underwear, setting it on the couch. Larry squinted at him oddly.
“They’re clean,” Steve offered.
Then he held the backpack up, and opened its mouth to take a visual inventory. “Dictionary, notebooks, clock, phone, plaque, and the tracking thing.” Steve looked up. “I am ready.”
“As soon as you get wherever you’re going, dial the phone immediately,” Larry suggested. “Let’s check the tracking device to make sure it works.” He pushed a key on the small TV screen and the machine gave a loud, long beep. “It’s working.” Larry looked up from his machine towards Steve. “You know there’s danger involved. This could go badly.”
“I know,” Steve said quietly. “But it’s the best chance we have. I have to do this, or I won’t get from Halloween to Christmas.” Steve crossed the room and hugged Aunt Shannon.
“You play it safe, Steve. If it gets dangerous, give them what they want and we will find you eventually,” Larry suggested. “And you can get out of there, right?”
“I’ll play it as safe as I can. May I have the ransom note, please?”
Larry pulled it carefully out of its plastic envelope and handed it to Steve. Steve slipped it into his bag and held onto it just in case he might drop it as he transported. With his other hand he touched the plaque in his backpack. The room began to flatten into a picture.
“Whoa,” Larry yelled as the transformation began. “I’m not used to that.”
“Spectacular,” yelled Aunt Shannon with a look of awe on her face. Steve watched as their figures flattened into a photograph and drifted to the ground, through the dark air of the new space. When the photo hit the floor, it vaporized in a burp of light.
A warehouse. It feels like a warehouse.
Steve felt dark, dusty space above him and around him. He stood motionless and listened. He watched his breath cauliflower into dark clouds as the winter wind sighed quietly. He noticed a set of industrial windows glowing with daylight three or four stories above him. Beyond the moans and creaks of the building, he heard nothing. Satisfied that no human was within a reasonable distance, he pulled the phone out of the bag. The touch screen face glowed back.
I guess the trip didn’t hurt the phone.
He pushed the first speed-dial number. The sounds of dialing echoed quietly through the warehouse space. Steve covered the phone with his hand to muffle the noise. After it had finished he put the phone up to his ear.
A flat, tinny, monotone voice echoed in his head. “The number you have dialed is long distance. Please dial one and the area code before the number you are dialing.” Steve pounded the off button with his finger.
Crap. I’m out of the area code.
He pushed the second speed-dial button with his forefinger. The number rang once and someone picked up the phone quickly.
“Steve?” It was Larry’s voice.
“I’m here,” Steve whispered.
“You’re not on the tracking screen.”
“I know. I had to use the long distance number.”
“Uh oh. That means you’re out of the county.”
“I think so,” Steve whispered as he looked around the blackness. His eyes began to adjust slowly to the dim light from the overhead windows. “I’m in some kind of warehouse. I don’t recognize anything… it looks… um… empty.”
“Really?” Larry stopped talking as Aunt Shannon’s muffled voice spoke. “Your aunt thinks they may not be there any more. They might have written the note there and then moved elsewhere, she says.”
“Great,” Steve whispered in disgust. “We’ll need to start over again.”
“It’s still an important find, Steve. Don’t touch the stuff you find around you. It’s a potential crime scene and possibly filled with clues. Try to get outside the building—there may be a landmark of some sort you could identify for us. Once we know where you are, you can come back here and we’ll send in the crime unit. Do you see any equipment in the warehouse?”
“Not really. It has a bare dirt floor. There’s a few old things stored here and stuff around, but that’s all.” Steve scanned the room for a door that looked like it might lead outside. There was a door behind him. He walked towards it. There was a heavy lock and a deadbolt to make sure the door never opened.
“The door is locked.” Steve whispered hoarsely. “And I can’t see another door. I can’t get out.”
“Don’t panic, Steve. If you’re locked in, you’re locked in. I want you to find your way out and get to safety,” Larry said soothingly. Steve listened as Aunt Shannon and Larry conferred for a couple of minutes before the detective returned to the phone. “OK Steve, are you there?”
“I’m here.”
“Your Aunt Shannon says to try turning the locks into clocks. I don’t know what she means by that, but she says you’ll know.”
“I’ll try it,” Steve whispered. He set the phone down on the ground and put one hand into the backpack where his plaque sat. He put another hand on the dead bolt lock. “Lock-lock-lock-lock-lock-lock-lock-clock-clock-clock-clock-clock-clock-clock,” he whispered. In a burst of light the deadbolt changed to an industrial-looking clock. Steve dropped his hand to the handle on the door and repeated the process. The locked door handle turned into a little clock with a steel face and heavy-looking hands.
Steve waited to see if anyone came. Only the sounds of winter filled his ears.
He picked up the phone again. “It worked,” he yelled in a whisper. “I’m out.”
“Great, Steve,” Larry exclaimed.
Steve pushed opened the door slightly and looked outside. Big banks of snow ridged the ground. “I’m outside now.”
“Good,” Larry said. “Watch the windows, Steve. Walk close to the building, and be sure you walk under any windows you see. If someone is looking out, you don’t want to be seen.”
“Gotcha.”
Steve slogged through the snow close to the side of the building, along the wall of corrugated steel. Wind swept the snow across a large parking lot and piled it into heaps as it passed through a chain link fence. The wind whistled as it whipped passed the crags and cracks of the warehouse.
He stopped as he approached the corner of the warehouse, moving his head slowly beyond its edge until one eye could scan the world around the corner of the building. The parking lot took up most of this side of the w
arehouse. It sprawled over the landscape. There was a main road at the far end of the parking lot, but Steve hadn’t seen a single vehicle on it yet, nor could he hear any. Up towards the road the warehouse flattened from a three- or four-story corrugated steel structure into a low, one-story brick administrative complex with offices and windows. Steve surveyed the front of the warehouse for a few minutes, looking for signs of life.
“What do you see?” crackled Larry’s voice through the cell phone.
“The warehouse has some offices attached to the front of the building,” Steve said. “I can’t see much else. The warehouse seems deserted.” He froze suddenly. As soon as he had spoken, a figure strolled in front of one of the windows of the office complex, close to the road.
The figure scanned the parking lot, and then retreated from the window back inside. “There is someone in the front part of the building,” Steve whispered.
“Good. Maybe,” Larry corrected himself. “Where are you?” he repeated.
“I don’t know.”
“Can you see any signs at all, anywhere?”
“None. This warehouse seems to be out in the country somewhere.”
“Are there any hills or mountains around you?”
Steve scanned the horizon, the part of it that wasn’t blocked by buildings. “There is a single mountain, a few miles off. It’s more of a big hill than a mountain.”
“What direction is the hill from you? North, south, what?”
“I dunno,” Steve said defensively.
“Don’t worry, Steve,” Larry said again. “We’ll figure this out.”
“Can you see any cars anywhere?”
“Nope.”
“OK, this isn’t going to work, Steve,” Larry said. “Let’s go back inside the warehouse.”
“I’m on my way.”
Steve retraced his steps back inside the warehouse. “This is long distance,” Larry moaned. “Roaming charges. My phone bill will bankrupt me.”
Steve pulled open the warehouse door and stepped inside, vaguely hearing the detective’s tinny complaints. “What do I do now?” he whispered into the cell phone.
“Come home,” Larry said firmly. “It’s too dangerous for you now.”