Free Sammy Keyes and the Kiss Goodbye by Wendelin Van Draanen Page B

loved the kid and all the trouble that came along with her?
    Roadblocked, André finally slammed down the phone. And having no viable option, he did something that Gina, in all her years at the Heavenly, had never witnessed.
    He locked up anything valuable (or remotely pawnable), grabbed his keys, and growled, “Let’s go.”
    Once outside the hotel, they were stopped in their tracks by a muscle-bound man wearing tight black shorts, a yellow racerback tank, and bright blue wrestling boots. “Hey …!” the man called as he locked the door to Slammin’ Dave’s Pro Wrestling School. And that’s where the greeting stalled because, despite their having been neighbors for over a year, the school’s owner did not know the hotel manager’s name. What he
did
know was that his young friend Sammy hung out at the Heavenly (althoughwhy, he’d never really understood), and that a rumor had flown through the wrestling school that she’d taken a bump that even a world-class wrestler would have trouble surviving. “Is it true?”
    André had heard tales from Sammy about Slammin’ Dave and his pro wrestling school, so although the two men had never spoken, André understood exactly what the wrestler was asking. “Looks like,” he said through his cigar stub. “We’re headin’ over to the hospital now.” And then, in a flash of camaraderie that only shared despair can produce, he asked, “Want a ride?”
    Slammin’ Dave nodded. “Thanks, man.”
    Then off they went.
    Pedal to the metal.
    Three odd and weathered ducks, praying for a way to rescue their town’s bravest (and dearest) duckling.

10—A MENAGERIE
    Like the blind calling out to the deaf for help, the six-pack of teens was getting nowhere fast. At the police station they were told that Sergeant Borsch had gone to the Highrise. At the Highrise they checked both the crime scene and the lobby and found no sign of him, or the manager.
    “That’s weird,” Casey said. “I thought that Garnucci guy was always here.”
    They stood around the quiet lobby for a minute, and finally Holly asked, “Well, where to now?”
    Marissa shrugged. “Back to the police station?”
    “Why don’t we just call?” Heather snapped, but since it was Heather asking and she was being bossy, Marissa, Holly, and Dot simply began walking toward the police station.
    So Billy told Heather, “Come on, let’s just go,” and Casey added, “It’s on the way back to the hospital.”
    But at the police station they were informed that, although Sergeant Borsch
had
been there a little while ago, he was gone again now.
    “See?” Heather said as they left the station. “We should have called.”
    The other girls couldn’t ignore the fact that she was right, but they did their best to do so anyway. “He’s probably at the hospital,” Holly said. “I’m heading back there.”
    “Me, too,” Marissa said.
    Heather, however, was getting fed up with the senselessness of the trek. “What are we
doing
? We should have just stayed at the hospital if this is all we’re doing!”
    And although to Dot it
was
reminiscent of Pooh Bear and friends aimlessly circling the Hundred Acre Wood, she didn’t voice that comparison. Instead, she diplomatically suggested, “We didn’t know when we set out that we’d wind up back at the start. Sometimes you have to go nowhere to get somewhere.”
    The others mentally scratched their heads at that comment, but Heather just came out and said,
“What?”
    “You know what I mean,” Dot said, which elicited from Marissa and Holly a decisive “Of course we do!” and made Casey murmur to his sister, “Just walk.”
    “But—”
    “Just walk.”
    So walk they did.
    Until they entered the hospital’s front parking lot, where they all stopped dead in their tracks.
    “Is that …?” Marissa said, pointing to a battered dirt bike with a sidecar. But with the red pennant flag sporting a big gold
J
, there was really no mistaking the