Spy Cat

  Lizzy woke up, stretched, and came to rub against Pete.

  “I think Pete’s okay,” Mary said, “although his one leg seems tender. Maybe I should ask Gramma to take a look at it.”

  “She already did,” Pete said.

  “That would be—” Alex stopped. “Oh, no!” he said, pointing to the cupboard with the glass doors. The doors stood open; the shelves were empty.

  “What’s wrong?”

  “Mom’s good dishes! They were in the cupboard and now they’re gone.”

  “So is Benjie,” Pete said.

  Alex rushed to the family room. The computer desk was there, but the computer and printer were not. Neither was the TV.

  “The burglars were here,” Alex said. His legs felt weak, as if he had Rollerbladed too long. “They stole our VCR, and the computer, and the TV set.”

  “And Benjie.”

  “It was probably the same people who broke into my house,” Mary said.

  “That explains how Pete got out,” Alex said. “They would leave the door open while they carried out our things.” He gathered Pete into his arms and held him against his chest. “Is that how you got hurt?” he asked. “Did they kick you?”

  “They threw me in the gravel,” Pete said. “Hard.”

  “Don’t touch anything,” Mary said. “The sheriff will want to see the house exactly as we found it.”

  “Benjie!” Alex called. “Are you here?” When there was no answer, he set Pete down.

  Alex and Mary rushed upstairs and looked in every room. What Alex saw made him feel sick to his stomach.

  Dresser drawers had been turned upside down, their contents spilled on the beds. Sheets and towels had been flung out of the linen closet and lay in a heap on the hallway floor.

  “Benjie!” Alex called. “Benjie, where are you?”

  “If he was here, he’d answer,” Mary said. “Maybe he saw the burglars and got scared. Maybe he ran outside and hid somewhere.”

  “Without his shoes?”

  “If he was frightened, he wouldn’t take time to stop and put shoes on.”

  Alex picked up the phone in his parents’ bedroom and dialed 911. “I want to report a burglary,” he said, and gave the street address. “And my little brother’s missing. He was supposed to go to our neighbor’s house after school, but he never showed up, and he isn’t at home, either, although I know he came here.”

  The emergency operator asked a few more questions, then said the sheriff was on his way.

  “I need to let Gramma know what happened,” Mary said. “She’s already worried, and this is going to make her feel worse.”

  “I’m going to look in Benjie’s hideout.” Alex went down the stairs two at a time.

  Alex ran out the kitchen door, with Mary behind him. She gave the door a shove, but it didn’t close all the way.

  “I’ll ride my bike to the corner and back,” Alex said as Mary started home. “It’ll be faster.” He stopped at the edge of the porch. He had left his bike there last night, but it wasn’t there now. Mom must have put it in the garage before she left.

  But when Alex went to the garage, his bike wasn’t there, either. Anger bubbled inside him like water boiling in a pot. Alex had bought the bike with his own money, saved from his birthday, and from pulling weeds, and doing extra chores. Now those thieves had taken it.

  Alex sprinted down the driveway, then ran down Elm Lane to the empty lot on the corner. “Benjie!” he yelled as he approached the clump of bushes where Benjie liked to hide. “Benjie!”

  The spy hideout was empty.

  13

  As soon as Alex and Mary left, Pete went outside, too. He needed a nap, but he wasn’t taking a chance of getting shut in the house.

  Lizzy started to follow him, but Pete hissed at her, to tell her to stay in. He would be busy showing the sheriff where the van had stopped; he couldn’t be bothered watching after a kitten. Lizzy turned when he hissed, and ran under the table.

  As Alex rushed back home he heard the rise and fall of sirens coming up the hill toward Valley View Estates. He waited at the end of his driveway until he saw the sheriff’s car, then waved to let them know where to turn. The siren faded to a stop as the car headed down the driveway toward the Kendrills’ house.

  Sheriff Alvored and Deputy Flick got out of the car. Alex had met them at Mary’s house, the night he saw the van. Mary and Mrs. Sunburg hurried toward them.

  “Your dad called,” Mary told Alex. “He’s on his way home.”

  Rocky rode up on his bike. “I heard the sirens,” he said. “What’s happened?”

  “The burglars broke into our house,” Alex said, “and Benjie is missing.”

  “Missing?” Rocky said. “You mean, the burglars took Benjie?” Disbelief made his voice squeak.

  Alex’s throat was so tight with fear, he could barely answer. “We don’t know if they took him,” he said. “We only know he’s gone.”

  * * *

  Benjie’s head hurt, and his nose was stuffed up from crying. He took a deep breath and forced himself to calm down. From where he was, hunched on the floor beside the bearded man’s feet, he couldn’t see out. He couldn’t tell which direction the van was headed, but he knew it was going fast.

  “A fine pickle you got us into,” the driver of the van said.

  “Me?” the other man said. “What did I do?”

  “You insisted on keeping that cat. You should have tossed him out as soon as we found him. If the cat hadn’t been howling, the kid wouldn’t have run after us.”

  “How was I to know the boy would come home and hear the cat?”

  “Not only does the boy see us, but he takes our license number and threatens to call the cops. If I hadn’t been smart enough to lock the house when we left, he probably would have gone inside and called them. They could have caught us red-handed right there in the driveway.”

  “So what are we gonna do with him?” the bearded man said.

  Benjie wiped his eyes with the back of his hand and listened. If the bad guys were going to talk about their plans for him, he needed to pay attention.

  “You remember that old hunting cabin we went to last fall?”

  “I remember.”

  “We’re going there again.”

  “Forget it. That place was no good. I walked my legs off and never saw a deer.”

  “We aren’t going to hunt for deer,” the tall man said. “We’re going to drop off the kid.”

  “We’re taking him there? To that cabin?”

  “As soon as we unload this stuff into the storage unit, we’ll drive up there.”

  “That cabin’s way up in the mountains. There’s probably five feet of snow up there this time of year. How are we going to drive up that road?”

  “We’ve got chains for the van.”

  “There’s no heat in the cabin. There isn’t even a wood-stove.”

  “We won’t be staying. Only the kid stays.”

  “You mean, leave him there? He’ll freeze.”

  “That’s the point.”

  There was a brief silence before the bearded man said, “I’m not so sure that’s a good idea, Vance.”

  “Do you have a better plan?”

  “No, but—”

  “I didn’t think so.”

  “Hey, man. You’re talking about murder. If the cops caught us, we’d never get out of prison.”

  “The cops won’t catch us. Use your head, Porker. It’ll be spring or summer before the body is found, and there’ll be no way to connect us to it.”

  “I don’t like this.”

  “I don’t like it, either, but unless you want to go to jail for all those burglaries, we have to be sure this kid never talks.”

  “I guess you’re right.”

  “I’m always right.”

  The van hit a pothole. Benjie bounced, knocking his knees on the floor. Tears stung his eyes again, but he remained quiet, thinking about what the men had said.

&nbs
p; He couldn’t let them drive him to a wilderness cabin and leave him. He would have to escape.

  Benjie made a plan. Good spies always have a plan. When the men stopped at the storage unit, he would see if other people were nearby. If he saw anyone, he would holler and honk the horn and create a huge ruckus. Whoever heard him would know something was wrong.

  But what if there were no other people at the storage unit? Then he would have to run while the men were unloading the van. They’d be distracted by their work, so he might get enough of a head start that they wouldn’t be able to catch him.

  I’ll pretend to be asleep, Benjie thought. If they think I’m sleeping, they might leave me alone in the front of the van while they unload everything out the back.

  While the bad guys were busy carrying things into the storage unit, Benjie would jump out and run away from them. He could hide somewhere, or flag down a passing car, or run to the storage company’s office and call for help.

  I know their names now, he told himself. Porker and Vance. I know what the van looks like, and when I call home, I can tell Mom or Dad to look in the bushes where I wrote down the license number. Maybe I’m not such a bad spy, after all.

  “I need food,” the bearded one, Porker, said. “I can’t unload all this until I have something to eat.”

  “How can you think of your stomach now?” Vance said. “Don’t you understand we’re in big-time trouble? The kid’s mother has probably already called the cops.”

  “So what? They don’t know who to look for. The boy is the only one who saw us, and he can’t tell anybody.”

  “We think he’s the only one who saw us. We hope he is. But we don’t know that for sure. We aren’t wasting time buying food. You can eat after we get back from the cabin.”

  “It takes almost two hours to drive up there. I’ll faint from hunger by then. If you get stuck in the snow, I’ll be too weak to push the van. Come on, Vance. It’ll only take five minutes to buy a hamburger and french fries. We can use the drive-up window.”

  Do it, Benjie thought. Stop as many times as you want.

  It was already getting dark outside, so Benjie knew it must be close to 4:30. Vance was right; Mom would have called the police by now. Maybe someone else did see the van. Mrs. Sunburg might have come to look for Benjie as the van drove off, or someone else might have noticed the van drive away. Maybe the police already had a description.

  “There’s too much chance that the kid would attract attention if we stop,” Vance said. “He could yell for help when they hand the bag of food through the window.”

  “I’ll keep him quiet.”

  Benjie cringed at the man’s tone of voice.

  “We aren’t stopping anywhere except the storage unit.”

  The two men rode on in silence.

  Benjie hoped that the police were searching for him, but he knew he couldn’t count on them finding him in time. He had to try to save himself.

  He put his head on the floor, closed his eyes, and pretended to be asleep. Determined to make his escape, Benjie huddled on the floor and waited.

  14

  Benjie heard the van engine go slower. He leaned sideways to keep his balance as the van turned, but he still pretended to be asleep.

  He could tell the tires were on gravel now, rather than a paved road. The men must be almost at their destination.

  Benjie listened, trying to hear any noises outside the van.

  “Good,” Vance said. “There’s no one else here. We have the place to ourselves. We can unload everything and get out of here before we’re seen.”

  Disappointment made Benjie’s throat tight. It wouldn’t do any good to yell for help if there was no one near enough to hear him. He would have to run away.

  A few seconds later the van stopped, then backed up, as if into a parking space.

  Benjie kept his eyes closed, not moving. He took long, deep breaths, letting the air out through his mouth so that it made a faint hissing sound. He sensed that the men were looking at him.

  “He’s asleep,” Porker whispered. “Let’s leave him here while we unload.”

  Vance didn’t answer, but he must have nodded agreement, because Benjie heard both side doors open. The men got out, then quietly pressed the doors closed behind them so as not to wake Benjie.

  Benjie didn’t move.

  The rear door opened, and at the same time Benjie heard a sound like an overhead garage door rolling up. He knew that must be the entrance to the storage unit. The two men began lifting something out of the back of the van. Probably Alex’s bike, Benjie thought, since it had been on top.

  It was hard for Benjie to time his move when he couldn’t see what the men were doing. Since his only hope of escaping was to get a good head start, he had to run when the men had their backs turned; otherwise they’d catch him for sure.

  He opened his eyes a slit, just enough to squint through. Keeping his head on the floor, he slid forward until he could see between the two seats. One man was rolling Alex’s bike into the storage unit. The other was carrying a box.

  They left those items and came back for more boxes. While Benjie waited he decided he should leave something in the van that would identify him. If Alex or his parents found the license number, the police might stop the van, but with Benjie gone and all the stolen goods unloaded, there would be nothing to prove that the burglars had used this van.

  He wished he had worn his Mariners cap. An article of clothing would be the perfect evidence, but he couldn’t leave his shirt or his pants.

  Benjie reached his hand down and slipped the sock off his right foot. He wadded it into a ball, opened the glove compartment, shoved the sock inside, and closed the compartment.

  Benjie decided he would run when they took out the grandfather clock. That was the most breakable item and an expensive one. It would take both men to carry it, and he thought they would pay careful attention while they hauled it from the van to the storage area.

  He peeked at the men. They were hauling the TV set to the storage unit now and had turned a light on inside. The storage unit was the size of a single-car garage, and it was packed with boxes and electronic items. He saw several computers, television sets stacked three deep, and boxes piled on a wooden desk. He wondered if some of the goods belonged to Rocky’s family, and to Mary and Mrs. Sunburg.

  You creeps, Benjie thought as the men set the Kendrills’ TV on the floor. I’m going to escape and call the police and you’ll be sorry you took all this.

  He put his head down again and listened as the men returned to the van.

  When they started to slide the clock out, Benjie looked through the slits in his eyes again. Nervousness made his breath come faster. It was almost time to make his move.

  “Be careful,” Vance warned. “This clock should be worth a bundle.”

  Benjie watched. It was dark out now, but the light from the storage unit spilled toward the van. The men kept the long clock flat on its back while each of them grasped one end. Vance had the end closest to the storage unit. He carried the clock with his arms behind him so that he could walk forward and see where he was going.

  When they stepped away from the van with the clock between them, Benjie shoved open the door beside him and rolled out of the van, keeping his head down so he wouldn’t be seen.

  A light came on inside the van as the door opened. Benjie hadn’t thought about that. Quickly he pushed the door closed until the light went off, holding his breath for fear one of the men would notice, but they both had their backs to the van.

  “Walk faster,” Vance said.

  “I’m going as fast as I can. This thing is heavy.”

  “Well, don’t drop it. Set it down gently.”

  Benjie bolted. His feet skimmed the surface of the gravel, barely touching down before he lifted them again. His arms pumped, and he stretched his legs out as far as he could with each step, willing himself to go faster.

  As he ran he looked around, hoping to see some
one who could help him. There were no people, and no other vehicles, only rows of storage units stretching ahead on both sides.

  Benjie wasn’t sure if he was running toward the street or toward the back of the storage lot. He didn’t hear any traffic sounds. He came to the end of a row of storage units and turned the corner, looking for some place to hide.

  The whole storage area was dimly lit with occasional streetlights, but he saw no shrubs or other hiding place, only the flat gravel road and another long row of storage units, their dark doors closed. Each one looked exactly like all the others except for the numbers over the doors.

  The sharp bits of gravel cut into the bottom of his bare foot. Maybe it hadn’t been such a good idea to leave his sock in the van. He was pretty sure his foot was bleeding.

  The gravel soon wore a hole in his remaining sock, and he got a stitch in his side. His breath came in gasps, but he didn’t slow down.

  From the row he had left behind came a shout: “Hey! Vance! He’s gone!”

  They knew.

  15

  Benjie knew the men would hunt for him now. They would drive the van past every row of storage units until they spotted him.

  Panicked, he looked for someplace, anyplace, to hide. He ran to the nearest unit and pulled on the door handle, hoping the door might be unlocked, but it didn’t budge. He ran to the next unit; that one was locked, too.

  He heard the van doors slam.

  The van engine started, died, started again.

  Go the other way, Benjie pleaded silently. Please! Don’t come this way!

  He came to the end of a row and looked in both directions. To his right, he saw only the road and more storage units, but to his left he saw a large dark shape, up close to one of the units. A big box? A piece of furniture? Benjie turned that way and ran toward the object. Whatever it was, perhaps he could hide behind it or underneath it.

  As he drew closer, he saw that someone had left a clothes washer and dryer outside one of the storage units. The washer and dryer were shoved up tight against the roll-up door, side by side, as if their owner had brought too much furniture to store and couldn’t make the washer and dryer fit inside.