Free Snatched by Pete Hautman Page B

turned out to be a Red Admiral.”
    Roni gave Brian a puzzled look.
    “Those are kinds of butterflies,” Brian explained.
    Roni said, “Did you pick up a passenger?”
    “I believe I did. There was a young lady standing there waiting. She was wearing a scarf that reminded me of a certain Brazilian specimen I once studied, so I asked her if she wanted a lift.”
    “Where did you take her?”
    Mr. Nestor looked blank. He rolled his eyes around in his head and muttered names of butterflies as if he were chanting.
    Finally he said, “I lost her.”
    “How could you lose a girl?” Brian asked.
    “We were driving along when I noticed a Great Spangled Fritillary by the roadside, so I pulled over. Would you like to see it? Very unusual specimen. This has been a good year.”
    Mr. Nestor would not tell them any more until he showed them his latest butterfly, so they followed him to his specimen room. The Great Spangled Fritillary was an orange and black butterfly about three inches across.
    “Isn’t it beautiful?” said Mr. Nestor. “Look at how much black is in the wings of this particular specimen. Highly unusual. Remarkable, actually.”
    “How do you kill them?” Brian asked.
    “Formaldehyde. They don’t feel a thing. In my hands they achieve immortality. Their beauty will be preserved forever.”
    “What does this Great Spaniel Literary have to do with Alicia?” Roni asked.
    “Who’s Alicia?” Mr. Nestor asked.
    “The girl you picked up at the hospital!”
    “Oh, yes. It took me several minutes to capture this specimen, and when I returned to my vehicle, she was gone.”
    “Gone?”
    “Yes, as if she’d sprouted wings and flown off.”
    “Where was this?”
    “Let’s see . . . I’m so bad at directions . . . would you like me to show you?”

    “He gives me the creeps,” Roni whispered. Mr. Nestor had gone upstairs to search for his car keys.
    “He’s totally harmless. I think.”
    “Totally weird, you mean. Maybe he killed Alicia and fed her to a pack of carnivorous butterflies.”
    Brian laughed. “There are no carnivorous butterflies.”
    “Maybe he stuck a pin in her and put her in a glass case. Have you ever noticed how many incredibly weird people live in Bloodwater?”
    Brian looked pointedly at Roni’s green trenchcoat. He looked at the ring in her right nostril.
    “I’ve noticed—” he said, “speaking of weird—that your nose ring used to be in your other nostril.”
    “It migrated,” Roni said.
    “I didn’t know nose rings could do that.”
    Roni pulled the fake nose ring from her nostril and put it in her pocket. “There. Is that better?”
    Brian cocked his head. “I don’t know. I kind of liked it.” Mr. Nestor came clomping down the stairs carrying his car keys in one hand and a butterfly net in the other.
    “Are you ready?” he asked.

29
    back again
    “Look! A Spicebush Swallowtail!” The Jeep swerved over the centerline as Mr. Nestor pointed out the window.
    Roni, sitting in the backseat, checked her seat belt.
    “Better keep your eye on the road,” Brian said.
    “Sorry! Sorry!” said Mr. Nestor, bringing the Jeep back under control. They were on the highway just south of Bloodwater. Mr. Nestor kept speeding up and slowing down, his head swiveling back and forth. More than one car had passed them, the drivers leaning angrily on their horns.
    “How far is this place?” Roni asked.
    “Not far! Not far!”
    “I thought you were just giving Alicia a ride home.”
    “Yes, well, um . . . I don’t actually remember where we were going. I only know where we ended up!”
    Roni had images of this crazed butterfly hunter driving them to some desolate laboratory and gassing them with formaldehyde. The only thing that kept her from jumping out of the car was the fact that Brian didn’t seem to be worried. And the fact that they were going sixty miles per hour. She was thinking about opening the door and bailing out anyway when Mr. Nestor brought the Jeep to