Snap (19 page)

“Pia . . . look!” she hissed. Pia glanced up at the television, and her eyes grew wide.

Their parents were on the TV screen—all four of them together. They were saying something into the camera, but the volume on the television was turned down so low that Danya couldn't hear what it was. A message flashed across the bottom of the screen:
CONFIRMED SIGHTING OF MISSING GIRLS IN FLORIDA! AMBER ALERT IN EFFECT
.

Danya swallowed and glanced at the teenage clerk, hoping he didn't get the sudden urge to turn around and glance at the television. Violet's mother must have called the cops after all—that's the only way they'd know she and Pia were here.

“Hey,” the gas station clerk said. “Did you hear me? Paper or plastic?”

“Oh, um, plastic.” Danya's hands were sweaty as she pulled a bunch of quarters out of her pocket and started to count them for the clerk. Twice, they slipped from her fingers and clattered to the floor. She felt time closing in on her—they'd already spent most of their very last day on the backs of motorcycles. What if they didn't make it to her grandmother in time at all?

Pia wasn't paying attention. Her eyes were glued to the television.

“Danya, they're together,” she said, and a smile spread across her face as she watched her parents on the television. “They haven't been in the same room together in months!”

“They're probably worried about you,” Danya mumbled under her breath, fumbling for a quarter that had rolled beneath a stand of car fresheners. She plopped her change on the counter, and the clerk scooped it up and started ringing something up on the register. Danya allowed herself one last glance up at the television while his face was turned, just as the image of her parents disappeared, replaced by a photograph of her and Sancho and Pia. Cheeks growing red, she pulled the collar of Max's motorcycle jacket up around her neck.

“Do you really think they miss me?” Pia asked. Danya shot another worried look at the clerk, but he was bagging their food and didn't seem to be paying them any attention.

Once Danya looked back at Pia's face, something inside her melted a little. Pia looked happier than she had in days.

“Of course they miss you!” Danya said. As she spoke the words, a little hole opened up in her gut. Her parents probably missed her, too. They must be so scared. They even went on television to find out where she was. . . .

Shaking her head, Danya grabbed their bag of food and pulled Pia out of the gas station. The grandpas helped them onto the backs of the motorcycles, and once her harness was tightly fastened, Danya tossed Sancho the Little Debbie oatmeal cookie from her pack (oatmeal was healthy, right?). Sancho caught it between his teeth and swallowed the whole thing in one bite.

The motorcycles rumbled on in unison, and soon Danya and Pia were off. Cool wind blew through Danya's thick curls, and she shivered, ducking deeper into Max's motorcycle jacket. While they rode, she replayed the emergency broadcast over and over in her head. Violet told the cops where they were—now even Danya's parents knew she was headed to Florida. A chill crept down her back, and she felt cold all over despite her heavy leather jacket. It was just a matter of time before they were found.

The motorcycles zoomed down the highway in a great flock, like birds. Danya and Max were in the lead. Danya peeked around Max's shoulder and that's when she saw it—a flashing orange sign by the side of the road:

MISSING: TWO 11-YEAR-OLD GIRLS AND PET PONY. IF SEEN, NOTIFY AUTHORITIES IMMEDIATELY.

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

The Duke and Duchess of Deception

A
s the motorcycles
roared closer to the sign, Danya's chest clenched, and her palms began to sweat. Any moment now Max and the other grandpas would figure out that she and Pia were the missing girls the country was searching for. She popped her head out of Max's leather jacket and shot her cousin a wild-eyed look.

Pia looked terrified, too. She scanned the highway, and Danya knew she was trying to come up with a last-minute plan to save them.

“Hey, Hank,” Max said, his voice rising over the roar of the motorcycle engines. “Can you read that sign over there? I'm having a hard time with it.”

Danya's heart sank as Hank rode up next to them, motorcycle rumbling. “Messing . . .” he read out loud, squinting beneath the motorcycle visor. “I mean . . . monsoon . . . Michigan!” Hank said. “I think it says there's a monsoon in Michigan. Wait, no, that doesn't make any sense.”

“It says Mickey Mouse!” Pia interrupted. “We're getting close to Disney World. The sign says that Mickey Mouse welcomes you to Florida!”

Danya watched Max carefully, wondering if he'd really believe that. For a long, terrible moment Max and the rest of the motorcyclists were quiet, staring at the sign.

“It's, um, time to start your half-Christmas celebration,” Pia added.
“Rudolph the red-nosed reindeer . . .”
she sang. She shot Danya a look and, clearing her throat, Danya started to sing along.
“Had a very shiny nose . . .”
Even Sancho tried to whinny in tune to the song—though he was a little off-key . . .

“Everybody now!” Hank called from behind him.
“And if you ever saw him, you would even say it glows!”

One by one the rest of the motorcyclists joined in, their voices echoing through the early evening as they drove down the highway, leaving the flashing orange sign far behind them.

A little over an hour later, the Sunnyside Cul-de-Sac Rebel Motorcycle Club for Grandpas rolled up to the gates of Disney World in a cloud of dust, filling the air with the heavy scent of motorcycle grease. The deafening roar of their motors cut through the night, scaring the crows from a nearby tree.

Max placed a heavy leather boot on the concrete and shuffled around inside his fanny pack, pulling out a brown paper bag. “Here's a little care package we all put together for you,” he said, handing the bag over to Danya. “There are some juice boxes and protein bars in there.”

“Thanks, Max!” Danya said, climbing down from the back of the motorcycle. “That's really thoughtful of you all.”

Max shrugged, grinning. Sometime in the night his Rudolph light burned out, and now the reindeer's nose was dark. “Are you sure this is where you want to be dropped off?”

Danya looked around. She could see why they were confused. Since the park was closed now, Max and the others were parked next to a big, empty parking lot, surrounded by trees. She could see the edges of rides peeking out in the distance, but there were few people around.

“Yup,” Pia said, climbing down from her own motorcycle as Danya hurried over to unlatch Sancho from the sidecar. “See, look, there's our manager!”

She pointed to an older woman strolling the streets just past Disney World's main gates. The woman was dressed like a duchess, in a red-and-black floor-length gown and lacy black parasol, her shoulder-length gray hair intricately curled. Danya watched her, remembering the princesses and royal ladies Ferdinand sometimes met in all the stories. She stared at the elegant woman, imagining what it would be like to wear a gown like that. The duchess looked over her shoulder and, seeing Pia pointing, she waved daintily.

“How do you know her?” Danya whispered under her breath, turning her attention back to Sancho. She unclicked the last of Sancho's safety harness buckles. Poor guy! He looked so cramped inside the motorcycle sidecar. Danya ruffled his mane.

“You were really brave,” she told him, kissing him on the forehead. Sancho snorted and leapt from the sidecar. He raced around the girls in circles, happy to finally stretch his stubby little legs.

Max and the other grandpas waved and smiled at the duchess. “Did I tell you I had a job once?” Max asked.

“I think you did mention that,” Danya said, laughing. Max had told them about the shoe store at least six different times during their trip.

“Be sure to write, you two!” Hank added. Halfway through the trip, Pia insisted she was going to get her own motorcycle and had peppered Hank with questions about his own until, finally, Hank gave her his e-mail address, making her promise to let him know when she decided to buy her own motorcycle so he could tell her what model to get. The girls agreed to do both and waved as the motorcyclists rode away.

“Well, what now?” Pia said, plopping down on the sidewalk once the grandpas were out of sight. Danya stifled a yawn, pulling out her map. After spending so long in her pocket it was as creased as one of the old men's faces, and there was a tiny rip along one of the seams. Danya ran a finger along the edge of the paper. Just looking at it made her think of how far they'd come—how exhausted she felt.

“You feeling okay?” Pia asked, nudging Danya with an elbow. Danya shrugged. She felt . . . strange. She was tired, but buzzing with a kind of restless energy. She was terrified of what her grandmother might say but excited to meet her. It was like her emotions couldn't make up their minds.

“Hopefully my grandmother's house is within walking distance,” was all she said, not sure how to explain how she felt to Pia.

“Yoo-hoo!”

The voice came from behind the girls, and they whirled around, confused. The duchess stepped outside the park gates, lifting her red skirts so they wouldn't drag along the sidewalk. She wiggled her fingers at Danya and Pia. She was rather old, her face deeply wrinkled and gray streaks shooting through her thick, auburn hair, but she flashed the girls a beatific smile that made her look years younger. A dapper older gentleman followed close behind her. His carefully curled white hair was tied back in a ribbon, and he held a walking stick.

“Oh. Hi,” Pia said. Sancho stopped trotting around the parking lot and headed for Danya's side. When he saw the duke and duchess, he snorted protectively and stepped between them.

“Oh. Why, hello, good sir,” the duchess said to Sancho. She dropped into a low curtsy, spreading her skirts out with her hands. Danya and Pia shared a look, giggling. The Duke, too, gave a stiff, gentlemanly bow, winking at Danya as he straightened again. Sancho pawed the sidewalk and shook out his mane, unimpressed.

“How do you do? We were wondering whether you fine ladies needed an escort?” the duke said. “We work at Disney World, and our shift has just ended. It would be unmannerly to allow you to set off alone.”

Danya giggled again. He sounded so old-fashioned! Like someone out of a storybook. Sancho grabbed her sleeve with his teeth and tried to pull her away. Danya yanked her shirt out of his mouth.

“Don't be rude, Sancho.” She wiped his slobber onto her skirt, grimacing. “We just need directions,” she said to the duke and duchess. “We're looking for a retirement community called the Palace. Have you heard of it before?”

“It's where her grandmother lives,” Pia added. The duke and duchess shared a look.

“We know the Palace quite well.” The duchess twirled her parasol over her shoulder. “It's only a short walk away, but the route can be confusing. We'd be happy to take you if you like.”

“That'd be great,” Danya said quickly. Pia gave her a look, but Danya shrugged. Sure, they usually traveled alone (unless they were looking for a ride). But if the route was tricky, they probably did need an escort. Besides, Danya thought, stealing a glance at their escorts, she was kind of hoping the duchess might let her hold her parasol.

Sancho stomped a hoof on the sidewalk and shook out his mane. Danya sighed and tried to tickle him under his chin, but he just pulled away.

“I think he thought we were going inside the park,” Danya explained when Sancho let out a loud, aggravated snort. “Sancho, we have to find my
abuelita
first. Maybe we can come back to the park later.”

“Poor little guy,” the duchess said, wrinkling her nose. “He'll feel better once you've reached your destination.

“Come along now, ladies,” the duke added. He pointed toward the sidewalk with his cane. “The Palace is just ahead.”

Danya, Pia, and Sancho followed the duke and duchess down the street. With every step, Danya's heart rose higher and higher. She'd daydreamed of meeting her grandmother so many times. Now they were finally here, and so much relied on what happened. Silently, Danya counted back the days in her head, though she didn't need to. It was Thursday night—and tomorrow morning her parents were finalizing the paperwork to sell Sancho to that horrible man. Would they have time to get all the money before the papers were signed? And would Danya's grandmother really give her the money to pay her father back?

She was so caught up in her excitement and nerves that she hardly noticed Sancho's distress as he clomped along next to her. He shook out his mane, whinnying loudly. When that didn't get Danya's attention, he trotted in a circle around her and began chewing on the edge of her sweater again.

“My, my, what a spirited pony you have there,” the duchess said. Her voice wasn't nearly as courteous as before. Sancho snorted at her, his nostrils flaring.

“Sancho!” Danya hissed. “Stop being so rude.”

Sancho dropped her sweater and shook his mane irritably.

Pia stopped next to her, lowering her voice. “Hey, Snap—you think he might be trying to tell us something?”

Danya frowned, staring down at Sancho. There was no way
Pia
could've guessed what he was trying to say when she didn't. Was there?

“What do you mean?” Danya asked.

“Look around! That look like a retirement community to you?”

Danya blinked, and for the first time she really looked at her surroundings. They didn't seem to be heading for a residential area at all. On the contrary, they'd turned down a busy street lined with shops and businesses. Fluorescent signs cast pink and orange lights over the sidewalk, and cars roared past them.

Danya swallowed. She had to admit, this wasn't how she'd pictured her grandmother's place, but she had no way of knowing what it looked like. She'd never seen a photograph or anything. The duke and duchess could be taking her anywhere.

“How much farther do we have to go?” Danya asked. The duke glanced back over his shoulder and smiled. Danya studied him carefully. When she looked past his cool clothes and the fancy way he talked, she noticed a few things: the edges of his jacket were frayed, for instance, and there was a gold cap on one of his teeth.

“It's just ahead,” the duchess said. She, too, was a little worn around the edges. There was a tear in the lace on her gown, and the gray in her hair made her curls look brittle. “Around this corner.”

The duke and duchess paused beside a narrow driveway that curved into a parking lot, motioning for Danya and Pia to walk ahead. Nerves pricked Danya's arms as she took a hesitant step forward. Pia stiffened next to her.

Sancho was right. Something
was
wrong. The driveway didn't lead to a palace at all—instead it opened into a parking lot filled with police cruisers. Danya froze at the sight of them, and every single hair on her body stood on edge. She felt like she'd just walked into a cave of sleeping bears. Every cruiser was empty, its blue and red lights dark. Beyond them sat a squat, gray building with bars covering the windows, next to a sign that read
POLICE STATION
.

“No.” Danya took a step back and immediately collided with someone—the duke.

“Grab the other one, sweetie!” he snarled. The duchess snatched Pia's sweater sleeve. Pia slipped her skinny arms out of the sweater and, now wearing only her T-shirt, she raced across the parking lot. Her long legs made it easy for her to outrun the duchess in her heavy skirts and heels.

“Come on, Snap!” Pia called. Danya twisted and pulled, but the duke's grip on her arms only tightened. Sancho let out a furious whinny and pawed at the sidewalk. Then he charged—head-butting the duke on the back of his legs, just above his knees. The duke's legs buckled, and he collapsed onto the ground. His grip on Danya's arms never loosened, and he brought her down with him. She scraped her knee on the parking lot as she fell.

“Pia, go!” she yelled. “Save yourself! Find my grandmother!”

“She isn't going anywhere,” the duchess said. She crept forward slowly, cornering Pia on one side of the parking lot. She smiled, but it no longer looked lovely—it looked manic, desperate. “This is nothing personal, little girlies. We just need that reward money!”