Kristy and the Kidnapper

  “Kristy,” David whispered as soon as we were alone, “there’s something I have to ask you.”

  “What?” I asked, leaning closer to him. He looked tense, frightened.

  “I don’t know if you remember what that guy said to me about my father having to pay. You haven’t mentioned it yet, so maybe you forgot. Anyway, keep it to yourself for now. Okay?”

  I frowned. “But shouldn’t we tell the police? That could be a big clue.”

  David glanced nervously toward the door. “Look,” he said. “The thing is — the thing is, my dad will want to be involved in this. And he may not want the police to know — ” He stopped and sighed. He looked at the floor, as if he didn’t want to meet my eyes.

  “What?” I asked. “David, what are you saying?”

  He started talking low and fast. He still wasn’t looking at me. His gaze wandered from the floor to the walls. “What I’m saying is that you were right when you thought my name was Terry Hoyt. That was my name, for just a little while. My family lived in Stoneybrook because my dad was on a case there. He’s a Secret Service agent, and at the time he was working undercover. Now he has a regular posting, here in D.C. Our family is trying to live normally for a change.”

  I gasped. I was having a hard time taking all of this in. “Wait — you mean — ” I began.

  “I’ll explain more later,” said David. “But for the time being, the police don’t have to know everything. My dad is a regular agent now, but it’s important that his past identities remain secret. It could be dangerous for him — and for me — if the wrong people had certain information.” Suddenly, he looked hard into my eyes. “Do you understand?”

  I nodded, then shook my head. I was so confused. “Not really,” I said. “But I’ll do what you say.”

  A look of relief came over David’s face — just for a second. Then the tense look returned. “Good. Thank you, Kristy. Thanks for trusting me.”

  Sergeant Driscoll arrived with the ice then, and Officer Michaels walked in behind her. They hovered around David for a few moments. I watched, thinking. Was I crazy to trust David? His story was so wild, so unlikely. Maybe I was putting myself in danger by believing him. Maybe he was the bad guy.

  Then I remembered how friendly Stacey had been with Terry Hoyt. If he were some kind of criminal, she would have figured it out. Wouldn’t she? Or if he were telling the truth, maybe Stacey already knew that “Terry” was David. Maybe she knew and hadn’t told any of us. I thought about my conversation with her and remembered her reaction when I asked about Terry. It sounded as if she’d been hiding something.

  As I sat thinking, there was a knock at the door. Sergeant Driscoll opened it, and I saw Mrs. Simon. “I understand one of the students from my school is here,” she said. I felt like running into her arms, but instead, I just smiled at her.

  “Mrs. Simon!” I said.

  “Kristy, are you all right?” She hurried toward me.

  “I’m fine,” I told her.

  “Not hurt?” she asked, putting her hands on my shoulders and looking into my eyes.

  I shook my head, suddenly feeling as if I could start crying at any minute.

  “I was chaperoning the dance when I heard,” Mrs. Simon said. “I came as quickly as I could.”

  “Thank you.”

  There was another knock at the door, and a man I hadn’t seen before entered. “Dad!” David exclaimed. He jumped up to hug the man, who I now noticed looked a lot like David.

  I checked out Mr. Hawthorne carefully as he introduced himself to me, Mrs. Simon, and the police. Could he really be a Secret Service agent? He looked like your basic, everyday dad. Then again, if you’re going to work undercover, average looks are probably helpful.

  “Now that you’re both here,” said Sergeant Driscoll to Mr. Hawthorne and Mrs. Simon, “we’d like to question these two about what happened.”

  “Is that okay, Kristy?” Mrs. Simon turned to me. “Do you feel up to it?”

  “Sure,” I said.

  “I do too,” David said before his dad could ask. “But there’s not much to tell. It all happened so fast.”

  We went over our stories, from the moment David had realized he was being followed until the time the receptionist and I helped him up off the ground in the parking garage. We described the man in the dark clothes and told about the chase down the stairs. Neither of us said anything about the kidnapper’s mentioning David’s father.

  The police asked a lot of questions, and Mr. Hawthorne added a few as well. We went over our story at least three times, from different angles. Finally, Sergeant Driscoll said we were nearly done.

  The officers read over their notes one last time. Officer Michaels turned to me. “Are you sure you’ve told us everything?” he asked. “There was nothing else, nothing the man in the dark clothes said or did?”

  I hesitated — just for a millisecond — and shook my head. “That’s it,” I said. “I’ve told you everything I remember.” In a way, I wasn’t lying. Until David had reminded me, I’d forgotten that the kidnapper had mentioned David’s father. The chase scene was a blur in my mind, because it had happened so quickly.

  Officer Michaels looked at me. “You’re sure?” he asked.

  I nodded.

  Just then, his radio came to life again. “We’re needed elsewhere,” he said after he’d listened carefully. “So that’s it for now. But we may be checking in with you later. Meanwhile, I’m leaving you two under the care of your guardians.” He nodded at David. “Take care of that bruise.”

  Then he and Sergeant Driscoll said their goodbyes and left. Mrs. Simon stood up. “I’m afraid I should head back to the dance,” she said apologetically.

  “That’s fine,” said Mr. Hawthorne. “I’ll stay with Kristy and David until we’ve figured out how to keep them safe and sound.”

  “Is that okay with you?” Mrs. Simon asked me.

  “Sure,” I said. “I’ll be fine.”

  Reluctantly, she let me go. “All right,” she said. “I’ll check on you later. And I’ll let Kai know what’s going on.”

  When she left, the room was quiet for a few seconds. Then Mr. Hawthorne turned to David. “Does she know?” he asked, nodding toward me.

  “I had to tell her,” David admitted.

  “All right, then,” said Mr. Hawthorne. “So, what weren’t you telling the police?” He sat down at the desk where Officer Michaels had been sitting and pulled a little notebook out of his pocket. He didn’t waste any time getting down to business.

  David told him what the kidnapper had said.

  “I thought it might be something like this,” his dad mused. “It may be that this man is someone I helped to apprehend, who has some resentment toward me.”

  “That’s what it sounded like,” said David.

  “So, here’s what we’ll do,” Mr. Hawthorne continued. “You’ll come home with me, and I’ll make sure that a security team keeps an eye on Kristy. Just until we’ve caught the man.” He snapped his notebook shut.

  “No, Dad,” David said quietly.

  “What do you mean, ‘no’?”

  “I’m not going.”

  I looked from face to face. Mr. Hawthorne seemed surprised. David looked stubborn.

  “I want to stay at the convention,” David went on. “I’ve been preparing for this for a long time. I want to be here with my friends. You said that part of the reason you gave up undercover work was so we could have a normal life, didn’t you?”

  Mr. Hawthorne nodded slowly. “True. But this man could be dangerous.”

  “So why couldn’t the security team watch Kristy and me?” David asked. “I mean, if we let the bad guys decide what we can and can’t do, then it’s as if they’re running our lives, isn’t it?” He looked earnestly at his dad. “Remember, you’ve taught me how to take care of myself. They’ll catch this guy any minute, and the whole thing will blow over. I don’t think it’s fair to make me miss the convention because of t
his.”

  Mr. Hawthorne smiled and held up his hands. “All right, all right,” he said. “I can see you’ve been practicing your debating. You make some very good points.” He smiled. “And I have some good friends who are going to be watching you two very, very carefully.”

  And that’s how I ended up with my own Secret Service agent.

  They followed us through the lobby and toward the elevator. I tried not to look at them, but I couldn’t help sneaking glances. Did other people notice them? To me, they seemed to stick out like penguins at a polar bear party.

  Our Secret Service agents. Two clean-cut men in dark suits, white shirts, and shiny black shoes. Both with tiny wires snaking from inside their suits up to their ears.

  At least they weren’t wearing sunglasses.

  Mine was Agent Melendez. David’s was Agent Sanford. They’d introduced themselves, then told us that from that moment on we were to ignore them and let them do their job. They were there to protect us, plain and simple.

  But how easy is it to ignore guys who look like that? All the other people in the hotel — even the ones who weren’t eighth-graders — were dressed in tourist clothes or regular workday clothes. Melendez and Sanford did not exactly blend in.

  But what did I know? These guys were pros. Who was I to question their outfits?

  Mr. Hawthorne had stayed with us in the manager’s office until Agents Sanford and Melendez arrived. He’d been reluctant to turn us over to them, but he’d made a deal with David and he was going to stand by it. He seemed like a nice dad. He gave David a hug before he let us walk out of the room with our agents. “Be careful,” he warned us. “And have fun at the convention.”

  “We will,” David promised. “Hey, did I tell you that our team won our first debate?”

  Mr. Hawthorne looked impressed. “Good work,” he told us. “Okay, go on and get some rest.”

  Now we were on the elevator, along with our agents and a couple of other people. I noticed a woman staring at Agent Melendez’s ear wire, and then, following his steady gaze, at me. I had a feeling she thought I was somebody important, the president’s niece or someone. I almost expected her to ask for my autograph. But then there was a dinging sound and the elevator door opened at the fifth floor. David and I walked off, trailed by our new shadows.

  I stopped at the door to my room. “Want to come in for a minute?” I asked David. According to the rules Mrs. Simon and Mr. Fiske had set, boys were allowed in our room as long as it was before “lights out” time, which was at ten. It was only nine, so we wouldn’t be breaking any rules.

  David looked unsure.

  “Come on,” I said. “I’ll even buy you a soda from the minibar.” A minibar is a little fridge in a hotel room. It’s stocked with soda and candy and stuff, and you’re charged for the things you eat and drink. Watson had warned me not to raid the minibar too often, since most hotels charge very high prices for whatever you take. So far, Melissa and Abby and I had been able to resist. But tonight felt like a bit of a special occasion. It’s not every day you’re chased by a kidnapper.

  “Okay,” David said. He followed me into the room. I held the door open for a second and looked back at Sanford and Melendez, a question in my eyes. Melendez shook his head slightly as he took up a post against the wall opposite my door. I nodded. I understood that they would stay right there, keeping watch. In fact, I had a feeling they’d do it all night.

  Nobody else was in the room. I figured that Abby must be out practicing with her debate group, and Melissa was probably still dancing the night away in Lucas’s arms.

  David took a seat in one of the armchairs, but he didn’t relax into it. He sat there looking uncomfortable as I rummaged around in the fridge. “How about a Coke?” I asked. “Or root beer?”

  “Coke is fine.”

  I handed him a cold can. “So,” I began, taking a seat in the other armchair. “Interesting evening, wasn’t it?”

  David gave me a tiny smile. “Kind of.”

  I could see he wasn’t going to talk about it without some prodding on my part. “Your father seems really nice,” I said. “You’re lucky.”

  “He’s a good guy.” David looked down at his Coke. I had the feeling he was used to keeping things inside.

  I wasn’t.

  “You know what? I was really, really scared,” I confessed, suddenly unable to hide it for one second longer. “That guy — he was dangerous.” I’d been trying to stay calm, not wanting the grown-ups to overreact and make us leave the convention. But it hadn’t been easy. Now that we were alone, I could open up.

  David nodded slowly. He looked up at the ceiling and let out a long breath. “I know,” he said. “I was scared too. Terrified, actually.” Then he met my eyes. “I don’t even want to think about where that guy would have taken me, or what would have happened next. You might have saved my life, you know.”

  I shook my head. “I didn’t do anything. All I did was scream and run.”

  “That was enough,” said David. “Anyway, thanks.”

  “You’re welcome.” I held up my root beer can. “Let’s have a toast to escaping the kidnapper.”

  We clinked cans. David seemed to relax a bit as he took another sip of his soda.

  “You must have had a pretty exciting life,” I said carefully. I was dying to hear more about what it was like being the son of a Secret Service agent.

  David shrugged. “Not really. It isn’t as if things like that happen every day.”

  “No, but it isn’t as if your dad’s a shoe salesman either. I mean, you’ve probably lived in all kinds of interesting places. And you’ve had all these different identities too. Have you had other names besides Terry Hoyt?”

  David nodded wearily. “About ten,” he said. “You get really tired of it, though. It’s not always easy to remember what your name is, and what your dad does, and where you live, and where you lived before, and all the other things you’re supposed to know each time around.”

  I nodded sympathetically. “So what were some of your other names?” I asked. I couldn’t help myself.

  “Well, when we lived in Seattle for a while I was Justin Peterson. That was when I was about nine. Dad was working on a case involving smugglers.”

  “Wow.”

  “I liked Seattle,” David admitted. “I had a good friend there. Steve, I think his name was. I can’t even remember anymore. The people I’ve met are all mixed up in my mind.”

  “I bet you remember Stacey, though,” I said.

  He nodded, smiling ruefully. “Of course. Stacey McGill. She’s very cool. I liked her a whole lot.”

  “Does Stacey — does she know what your dad does? Did you tell her?”

  He nodded again. “But don’t be mad at her for not telling you. I made her promise.”

  “I understand.”

  “Will you tell her I said hi?” he asked.

  “Absolutely.” I settled back in my chair, and he did too. For a second I felt guilty about being so comfortable, when Agents Sanford and Melendez were standing out in the hall. I mentioned it to David.

  He laughed. “Oh, don’t worry about them,” he said. “That’s their job. They’re used to it.”

  “Have you ever had agents follow you around before?” I asked.

  “This is the first time. And the last, I hope.”

  “I have to admit, I don’t mind it so much. I mean, what if that guy did come back to try again? Now he knows that I know what he looks like. He might come after me too.” I shuddered.

  “Don’t worry,” David said. “Those guys out there will make sure you’re safe. They’re professionals.”

  “So, who do you think that man is?” I asked. “The kidnapper, I mean.”

  “I don’t know. My dad has helped put away a lot of criminals. There could be any number of people walking around with grudges against him.”

  I whistled and shook my head. “What a life.”

  “It’s been interesting,” said Dav
id. “But I definitely prefer the way things are now. Dad’s not undercover anymore, and we can use our real names. I’m allowed to tell people what he really does for a living. Things are a lot easier when you can just be yourself!” He smiled at me, looking happier than he’d seemed in hours. “And it’s good to be settled in one place. I mean, I’m glad I’ve seen some other places, but this city is cool. I’ve made some good friends here, and I like our house. I want to stay put for a good, long time.”

  Suddenly, I heard the door open behind me. I have to admit I jumped.

  “Hey, we heard all about what happened!” Melissa said, bursting into the room with Lucas in tow.

  Abby was right behind them. “What’s with Heckle and Jeckle out there?” she asked. “They’re not too friendly, are they?” She was glancing behind her, into the corridor. I couldn’t see Sanford or Melendez, but I could imagine their expressionless faces.

  I giggled. They’d be Heckle and Jeckle in my mind from then on.

  “Is it true you almost got kidnapped?” Melissa asked David. “I heard the guy had a gun. I heard he grabbed you!”

  “Whoa, whoa.” David held up his hands. “I didn’t see any gun.”

  “But he did grab you, didn’t he?” asked Melissa. “Why? What was he after?” She was like a dog with a bone.

  David shrugged, looking tired all of a sudden. “I don’t know,” he said. “My dad’s a Secret Service agent. That could have something to do with it. But nobody knows for sure.”

  “Everybody’s talking about it,” Abby added. “Word travels fast around here.”

  “I’m sure there are all kinds of rumors,” David said. “But I doubt many of them are true.”

  “So are those guys out there, like, guarding you?” Lucas asked, nodding toward the door.

  “Just for a little while,” David answered.

  “Cool, dude.”

  “Right.” David met my eyes. I knew exactly what he was thinking.

  His new, “normal” life wasn’t so normal after all.

  “DKK rules!”

  “Yesss!”

  “All right, team!”

  Kai, David, and I did a three-way high five. It was Saturday morning. We had just emerged from Debate Room One, where we’d won another round in the tournament.