Free Abduction! by Peg Kehret Page A

clerks gave Bonnie permission to stand at the door and distribute the flyers.
    “I saw you on the news last night,” the clerk said. “I hope they find your brother real soon. Your dog, too.”
    In between shoppers, Bonnie had time to think. The Internet was the best way to spread information quickly. She decided to write an e-mail about Matt to all the names in Mom’s address book. She would ask everyone to watch for him and to send her message to all the people on their e-mail lists. She could include the Web site that had Matt’s picture. Hundreds more people all over the country would instantly be looking for Matt.
    The idea was too good to wait. Bonnie left her post at the store and went home to send the e-mail right away. As she turned her bike onto her street, she saw a van from one of the TV stations parked in front of her house. Bonnie’s mom was talking to reporters again.
    Bonnie’s pulse raced. Had Matt been found? She pedaled faster. Mom stood on the porch alone.
    If Matt had been found, he would be there with her. Was there bad news? The small seed of fear that had lurked all day in the back of Bonnie’s mind quickly blossomed into panic.
    As soon as she reached her own house, Bonnie dropped the bike at the curb and listened to Mom’s words: “If anyone sees Matt, please call the police immediately.” It sounded like a rerun of yesterday’s news conference.
    Bonnie noticed her mom’s eyes were puffy and red. She probably cried half the night the same as I did, Bonnie thought. She retrieved her bike, rode it around to the alley, and put it in the garage.
    When the media people left, Mrs. Sholter told Bonnie, “My boss called. He’s offered a ten-thousand-dollar reward for information leading to Matt’s safe return.”
    “Wow!” Bonnie said.
    “Most people are good,” Mrs. Sholter said.
    She’s right, Bonnie thought. There are bad people in the world, people who steal children and dogs, but there are lots more good people. Dozens of people—maybe even hundreds—were walking the streets today, searching for Matt.
    Detective Morrison came to the door. “We heard from someone who thinks he saw Pookie.”
    “Did he see Matt?” Bonnie asked. “Was Matt there?”
    “No. He didn’t see Matt.”
    “Was Pookie running loose or was he with someone?” Mrs. Sholter asked.
    “He was with an elderly couple.”
    “An elderly couple? Are you sure it was Pookie?”
    “The caller thinks it was Pookie. He saw them late Friday afternoon.”
    “Where?” Bonnie asked.
    “He was Rollerblading with friends at Marymoor Park, and he saw the dog with a man and woman, both about seventy years old, who stood near some restrooms. The caller didn’t notice what kind of vehicle they were driving, but the time would be about right.”
    “Did he talk to them?” Bonnie asked.
    “No. At the time he had no reason to pay attention to the couple or the dog. Then he saw Pookie’s picture on television and thought the dog he saw Friday afternoon was the same, so he called. Of course, he could be mistaken; the dog he saw might not have been Pookie.”
    There she goes again, Bonnie thought. The police didn’t seem to believe anything until it was proven.
    “We have officers at Marymoor Park right now,” Detective Morrison said, “looking for anything useful. The young man who called remembered exactly where he saw the dog.”
    “If it was Pookie,” Bonnie said, “why wasn’t Matt there, too?”
    “Perhaps he was,” Mrs. Sholter said. “That’s what the police are trying to find out.”
    Matt might have been in the bathroom, Bonnie thought, where the boy on Rollerblades didn’t see him, or he might still have been in the kidnapper’s car.
    “Marymoor Park isn’t very far,” Bonnie said. “Why would the person have gone there?”
    “If an elderly couple had Pookie,” Detective Morrison said, “I’d like to know where they got him.”
    “I wonder what their connection is to the man who was at the