The Abduction (12 page)

Chapter 21

T
here were some additional cars in the Boone driveway when Ike rolled up at ten minutes after 6:00 a.m. on Sunday morning. His old Spitfire was right where he’d left it. Beside it was a black sedan, very official looking. And behind the Spitfire was the strangest car in town—a bright-yellow hearse once owned by a funeral home but now the property of May Finnemore.

“She’s here,” April said. Neither Ike nor Theo could tell if this pleased her or not.

It was still dark when they parked. Judge leaped from the vehicle and ran to the holly bushes beside the porch, his favorite place to relieve himself. The front door flew open, and May Finnemore came sprinting out, already crying and reaching for her daughter. They embraced in the front yard for a long time, and as they did so, Ike, Theo, and Judge eased inside. Theo got hugged by his mother, then said hello to Detective Slater, who’d obviously been invited to join the party. After all the greetings and congratulations, Theo asked his mother, “Where did you find Mrs. Finnemore?”

“She was at a neighbor’s house,” Detective Slater said. “I knew about it. She’s been too afraid to stay at home.”

What about leaving April home alone, Theo almost blurted.

“Any word from Tom Finnemore?” Ike asked. “We left in a hurry and did not leave a note.”

“Nothing,” replied the detective.

“No surprise there.”

“You must be exhausted,” Mrs. Boone said.

Ike smiled and said, “Well, as a matter of fact, the answer is yes. And quite hungry. Theo and I have just spent the past fourteen hours on the road, with little to eat and no sleep, at least for me. Theo and April managed to nap a bit. The dog, though, slept for hours. What’s for breakfast?”

“Everything,” Mrs. Boone said.

“How’d you find her, Theo?” Mr. Boone asked, unable to conceal his pride.

“It’s a long story, Dad, and I gotta use the restroom first.” Theo disappeared and the front door opened. Mrs. Finnemore and April entered, both in tears, both smiling. Mrs. Boone could not restrain herself and gave April a long hug. “We’re so happy you’re back,” she said.

Detective Slater introduced himself to April, who was exhausted and unsettled and a little embarrassed by all the attention. “It’s great to see you, kid,” Slater said.

“Thank you,” April said softly.

“Look, we can talk later,” the detective said as he faced Mrs. Finnemore. “But I need to spend about five minutes with her right now.”

“Can’t this wait?” demanded Mrs. Boone, taking a step closer to April.

“Of course it can, Mrs. Boone. Except for one small matter that I need to explore now. After that, I’ll get out of here and leave you alone.”

“No one is asking you to leave, Detective,” Mr. Boone said.

“I understand. Just give me five minutes.”

Theo returned, and the Boones left the den and headed for the kitchen, where the thick smell of sausage hung in the air. Mrs. Finnemore and April sat on the sofa and the detective pulled a chair close.

He spoke in a low voice. “April, we’re thrilled that you’re back home, safe and sound. We’re looking at the possibility of kidnapping charges. I’ve discussed it with your mother, and I need to ask you a couple of questions.”

“Okay,” she said timidly.

“First, when you left with your father, did you agree to do so? Did he force you to leave?”

April looked confused. She glanced at her mother, but her mother was staring at her boots.

Slater continued: “Kidnapping requires evidence that the victim was forced to leave against her will.”

April slowly shook her head and said, “I was not forced to leave. I wanted to leave. I was very frightened.”

Slater took a deep breath and looked at May, who was still avoiding all eye contact. “All right,” he said. “The second question—Were you held against your will? Did you want to leave at any time, but were told you could not do so? With kidnapping, there are rare cases where a victim went away without objection, without force, sort of voluntarily, but then as time passed the victim changed her mind and wanted to go home. But her captor refused. At that point, it became a kidnapping. Is this what happened?”

April crossed her arms over her chest, gritted her teeth, and said, “No. That did not happen to me. My father was lying the whole time. He convinced me that he was in contact with my mother, that things were all right here, and that we would come home. Eventually. He never said when, but it would not be long. I never thought about running away, but I certainly could have. I wasn’t guarded or locked up.”

Another deep breath by the detective as his case continued to slip away. “One last question,” he said. “Were you harmed in any way?”

“By my father? No. He might be a liar and a creep and a lousy father, but he would never harm me, nor would he let anyone else. I never felt threatened. I felt alone, and scared and confused, but that’s not unusual for me even here in Strattenburg.”

“April,” Mrs. Finnemore said softly.

Detective Slater stood and said, “This will not be a criminal matter. It should be dealt with in the civil courts.” He walked into the kitchen, thanked all the Boones there, and left. After he was gone, April and her mother joined the Boones around the kitchen table for a hearty breakfast of sausage, pancakes, and scrambled eggs. After the plates were served, the food properly blessed, and everyone had taken a bite or two, Ike said, “Slater couldn’t wait to get out of here because he’s too embarrassed. The police spent four days playing games with Leeper, and Theo solved the case in about two hours.”

“How’d you do it, Theo?” his father demanded. “And I want the details.”

“Let’s hear it,” his mother piped in.

Theo swallowed some eggs and looked around the table. Everyone was looking at him. He smiled, at first a nasty little grin, then a full-blown, ear-to-ear blast of orthodontic metal that was instantly contagious. April, already beyond braces, flashed a beautiful smile.

Unable to suppress it, Theo started laughing.

Detective Slater drove straight to the jail where he met Detective Capshaw. Together they waited in a small holding room while Jack Leeper was startled from his sleep, handcuffed, and practically dragged down the hall in his orange jumpsuit and orange rubber shower shoes. Two deputies hauled him into the holding room and sat him down in a metal chair. The handcuffs were not removed.

Leeper, his eyes still swollen and his face unshaven, looked at Slater and Capshaw and said, “Good morning. You boys are up mighty early.”

“Where’s the girl, Leeper?” Slater growled.

“Well, well, so you’re back. You boys ready to make a deal this time?”

“Yep. We got a deal, a really good deal for you, Leeper. But first you gotta tell us how far away the girl is. Just give us some idea. Five miles, fifty, five hundred?”

Leeper smiled at this. He rubbed his beard on his sleeve, grinned, and said, “She’s about a hundred miles away.”

Slater and Capshaw laughed.

“I say something funny?”

“You’re such a lying scumbag, Leeper,” Slater said. “I guess you’ll lie all the way to your grave.”

Capshaw took a step forward and said, “The girl’s home with her momma, Leeper. Seems she took off with her father and spent a few days on the run. Now she’s back, safe and sound. Thank God she never met you.”

“You want a deal, Leeper?” Slater said. “Here’s your deal. We’re dropping all charges here, and we’re gonna speed up your shipment back to California. We’ve talked to the authorities there and they’ve got a special place for you, as an escapee. Maximum security. You’ll never see daylight.”

Leeper’s mouth opened but no words came out.

Slater said to the deputies, “Take him back.” Then he and Capshaw left the room.

At 9:00 a.m., Sunday morning, the Strattenburg Police Department issued a statement to the press. It read: “At approximately six o’clock this morning, April Finnemore returned to Strattenburg and was reunited with her mother. She is safe, healthy, in good spirits, and was not harmed in any way. We are continuing our investigation into this matter and will interrogate her father, Tom Finnemore, as soon as possible.”

The news was instantly broadcast on television and radio. It roared through the Internet. At dozens of churches, announcements were made to applause and thanksgiving.

The entire town took a deep breath, smiled, and thanked God for a miracle.

April missed it all. She was sound asleep in a small bedroom where the Boones sometimes kept their guests. She did not want to go home, at least not for a few hours. A neighbor called May Finnemore and relayed the news that their home was under siege from reporters, and said it would be wise to stay away until the mob left. Woods Boone suggested that she park her ridiculous vehicle in their garage; otherwise, someone would likely see it and know precisely where April was hiding.

Theo and Judge took a long nap in their upstairs bedroom.

Chapter 22

W
hen the students at Strattenburg Middle School returned to class on Monday morning, they expected a little excitement. This would not be a typical Monday. A dark cloud had hung over the school since April’s disappearance, and now it was gone. Just a few days earlier everyone presumed her dead. Now she was back, and not only had she been found, she’d been rescued by one of their own. Theo’s daring mission to Chapel Hill to pluck her from her father’s captivity was quickly becoming a legend.

The arriving students were not disappointed. Before daybreak, half a dozen television vans were parked haphazardly around the wide, circular drive at the entrance of the school. Reporters were all over the place, with photographers waiting for a glimpse of something. This upset Mrs. Gladwell, and she called the police. A confrontation took place; angry words were exchanged; arrests were threatened. The police eventually moved the mob off school property, so the cameras were set up across the street. As this was happening, the buses began arriving and the students witnessed some of the conflict.

The bell rang at 8:15 for homeroom, but there was no sign of Theo and April. In Mr. Mount’s room, Chase Whipple briefed the class on his participation in the search and rescue, which was received with rapt attention. On his Facebook page, Theo had posted a short version of what happened, and he gave plenty of credit to Chase.

At 8:30, Mrs. Gladwell again called all eighth graders to assembly. As they filed in, the mood was in stark contrast to the last gathering. Now the kids were lighthearted, laughing, and anxious to see April and forget this experience. Theo and April sneaked into the rear of the school, met Mr. Mount near the cafeteria, and hustled to assembly where they were mobbed by their classmates and hugged by their teachers.

April was anxious and obviously uncomfortable with the attention.

For Theo, though, it was his finest hour.

Later that morning, Marcella Boone appeared in Family Court to file a petition asking for the appointment of a temporary legal guardian for April Finnemore. Such a petition could be filed by any person concerned about the safety and well-being of any child. There was no requirement that notice be given to the child or to its parents when the petition was filed, but a temporary guardian would not be appointed unless good cause was shown to the court.

The judge was a large old man with a head full of curly white hair and a white beard and round, rosy cheeks that reminded a lot of people of Santa Claus. His name was Judge Jolly. In spite of his name, he was pious and strict, and because of this, and because of his appearance, he was known, behind his back all over town, as St. Nick.

He reviewed the petition while sitting on the bench, then asked Mrs. Boone, “Any sign of Tom Finnemore?”

Mrs. Boone had spent most of her career in Family Court, and knew St. Nick extremely well. She said, “I have been told that he called his wife last night and they talked for the first time in weeks. Supposedly, he will return home this afternoon.”

“And no criminal charges are expected?”

“The police are treating this as a civil matter, not a criminal one.”

“Do you have a recommendation as to who I should appoint as temporary guardian?”

“I do.”

“Who?”

“Me.”

“You’re asking to be appointed?”

“That’s correct, Your Honor. I know this situation very well. I know this child, her mother, and, to a much lesser extent, her father. I’m very concerned about what will happen to April, and I’m willing to serve as her temporary guardian for no fee.”

“That’s a good deal for everyone, Mrs. Boone,” St. Nick said with a rare smile. “You are hereby appointed. What’s your plan?”

“I would like to have an immediate hearing before this Court as soon as possible to determine where April should live for the next few days.”

“Granted. When?”

“As soon as possible, Your Honor. If Mr. Finnemore returns today, I’ll make sure he is immediately notified of the hearing.”

“How about 9:00 a.m. tomorrow?”

“Perfect.”

Tom Finnemore arrived home late Monday afternoon. Plunder’s tour was over, and so was the band itself. The members had quarreled almost nonstop for two weeks, and they made little money. And they felt as though Tom had dragged them into his family mess by snatching his daughter and keeping her with him. April was just one of the many things they had fought over. Their biggest problem was that they were all middle-aged now, and too old to be playing for peanuts in frat houses and beer halls.

At home, Tom was met by his wife, who said little, and his daughter, who said even less. The women were united in their opposition to his presence, but Tom was too tired to fight. He went to the basement and locked the door. An hour later, a deputy arrived and handed him a summons to court. First thing in the morning.

Chapter 23

A
fter a few hours of tense negotiations, it was finally decided that Theo could skip school Tuesday morning and go to court. At first his parents said no way, but it became apparent that Theo was not about to back down. April was his friend. He knew a lot about her family. He had indeed rescued her, something he reminded his parents of several times. She might need his support, and so on. Mr. and Mrs. Boone finally got tired of arguing and said yes. But his father warned him about his homework, and his mother warned him that he would not be allowed inside the courtroom. In Family Court, matters dealing with children were always handled behind locked doors.

Theo thought he knew a way around this, and he had a backup plan in the event St. Nick tossed him out of the courtroom.

The tossing happened rather fast.

In Family Court, all issues were decided by the judges, either St. Nick or Judge Judy Ping. (Ping-Pong as she was known, again behind her back. Most of the judges in the Stratten County Courthouse had a nickname or two.) There were no juries, and very few spectators. Therefore, the two courtrooms used for divorce trials, child custody disputes, adoptions, and dozens of other cases were much smaller than the courtrooms where juries were used and crowds gathered. And it was not unusual for the atmosphere to be tense when Family Court was called to order.

It was indeed tense on Tuesday morning. Theo and Mrs. Boone arrived early, and she allowed him to sit at her table as they waited. She pored over documents while Theo caught up on important matters with his laptop. The three Finnemores entered together. Mr. Gooch, one of an army of old semi-retired deputies who killed time in court as uniformed bailiffs, directed Tom Finnemore to his table on the left side of the room. May Finnemore was sent to hers on the right side of the room. April sat with Mrs. Boone in the center, directly in front of the judge’s bench.

Theo thought it was a good sign that the family had arrived together. He would find out later that April rode her bike; her mother drove her yellow hearse, minus the monkey; and her father walked, for the exercise. They met at the front door of the courthouse and came in together.

Down the hall in Criminal Court, Judge Henry Gantry preferred the traditional, somewhat dramatic entry in which the bailiff makes everyone jump to their feet while he barks out, “All rise for the Court!” and so on, as the judge enters with his black robe flowing behind him. Theo preferred this, too, if only for the showmanship. There was an excellent chance he would one day become a great judge, much like Henry Gantry, and he certainly planned to stick to the more formal opening of court.

In what other job can an entire room of people, regardless of their age, job, or education, be required to stand in solemn respect as you enter the room? Theo could think of only three—queen of England, president of the United States, and judge.

St. Nick cared little for formalities. He walked in through a side door, followed by the clerk. He stepped up to the bench, took his seat in a battered leather rocker, and looked around the room. “Good morning,” he said gruffly. There were a few mumbled replies.

“Tom Finnemore, I presume?” he asked, looking at April’s father.

Mr. Finnemore stood nonchalantly and said, “That’s me.”

“Welcome home.”

“Do I need a lawyer?”

“Keep your seat, sir. No, you do not need a lawyer. Maybe later.” Mr. Finnemore sat down with a smirk. Theo looked at him and tried to remember him from the frenzy of the frat party last Saturday night. He was the band’s drummer and had been partially hidden by the tools of his trade. He sort of looked familiar, but then Theo had not had the time to examine Plunder. Tom Finnemore was a nice-looking man, respectable in some ways. He was wearing cowboy boots and jeans, but his sports coat was stylish.

“And you are May Finnemore?” St. Nick asked, nodding to the right.

“Yes, sir.”

“And Mrs. Boone, you are with April?”

“Yes, sir.”

St. Nick glared down at Theo for a few seconds, then said, “Theo, what are you doing here?”

“April asked me to be here.”

“Oh, she did? Are you a witness?”

“I could be.”

St. Nick managed a smile. His reading glasses were perched far down at the end of his nose, and when he smiled, which didn’t happen often, his eyes twinkled and he did in fact resemble Santa Claus. “You could also be a lawyer, a bailiff, or a clerk, couldn’t you, Theo?”

“I suppose.”

“You could also be the judge and decide this matter, couldn’t you?”

“Probably.”

“Mrs. Boone, is there any legitimate reason for your son to be in this courtroom during this hearing?”

“Not really,” Mrs. Boone said.

“Theo, go to school.”

The bailiff stepped toward Theo and gently waved an arm toward the door. Theo grabbed his backpack and said, “Thanks, Mom.” He whispered to April, “See you at school,” and then took off.

However, he had no plans to go to school. He left his backpack on a bench outside the courtroom, ran downstairs to the snack bar, bought a large root beer in a paper cup, ran back up the stairs, and, when no one was looking, dropped the drink onto the shiny marble floor. Ice and root beer splashed and ran into a wide circle. Theo did not slow down. He jogged down the hall, past Family Court, around a corner to a small room that served as a utility closet, storage area, and napping place of Mr. Speedy Cobb, the oldest and slowest janitor in the history of Stratten County. As expected, Speedy was resting, catching a quick nap before the rigors of the day kicked in.

“Speedy, I dropped a drink down the hall. It’s a mess!” Theo said urgently.

“Hello, Theo. What are you doing here?” The same question every time he saw Theo. Speedy was getting to his feet, grabbing a mop.

“Just hanging out. I’m really sorry about this,” Theo said.

With a mop and a bucket, Speedy eventually made it down the hall. He scratched his chin and inspected the spill as if the operation would take hours and require great skill. Theo watched him for a few seconds, and then retreated to Speedy’s little room. The cramped and dirty place where Speedy napped was next to a slightly larger room where supplies were stored. Quickly, Theo climbed up the shelves, passing rows of paper towels, toilet paper, and sanitizer. Above the top shelf was a crawl space, dark and narrow with an air vent to one side. Below the air vent, some fifteen feet away, was the desk of St. Nick himself. From his secret cubbyhole, known only to himself, Theo could see nothing.

But he could hear every word.