Dawn and the Disappearing Dogs Read online

  The team captains shook hands all around, and then the game began. The Krashers were up first. I saw Kristy give Matt Braddock a quick hug before he picked up a bat and approached home plate. He looked scared, but he gave a few practice swings that looked very professional. The New Hope pitcher, a kid with red hair and freckles, went into his wind-up. He threw the ball — hard! — and Matt swung.

  “Strike one!” shouted the umpire.

  “Wait for your pitch, Matt,” called Kristy, signing at the same time. “Look ’em over.” She pointed to her own eyes when she said that.

  Matt got ready for the next pitch, and when it came he swung again. This time he connected.

  “A double!” I yelled, standing up to see better. “All right, Matt!” Matt couldn’t hear the cheers of the Stoneybrook fans, but he grinned at the crowd and raised his fist in the air.

  From that point on, the game was really exciting. One of Bart’s kids — the one named Jerry, I think — got a home run in the second inning, and then the New Hope team tied it up with a bunch of smaller hits. Mary Anne and Mallory and I were screaming and giving each other the high-five every time the Krashers made a good play. I could see Kristy on the sidelines, pacing up and down. She looked less nervous, and more excited. The teams were turning out to be a good match, and the Krashers looked as if they had a chance to win, if they played well.

  It was in the seventh inning that I turned for a moment to look at the crowd and saw something out of the corner of my eye. A woman in a red jogging suit was passing through the park, walking a big brown dog. “Hey!” I said. For a second I was so surprised that I couldn’t even catch my breath.

  Mary Anne turned to follow my gaze. “What?” she asked. “Do you know her?”

  “No,” I said. “But I know her dog. That’s Cheryl.”

  I jumped to my feet. “Hey!” I said again.

  “Hey!” echoed someone in back of me. “You spilled my popcorn.” I turned around and saw an angry-looking man holding an empty popcorn box. Popcorn was scattered all over his lap.

  “I’m sorry,” I said, “but I just saw —”

  “Down in front,” called someone else. “We can’t see the game!”

  I stooped down quickly, knocking into the woman in the next seat.

  “My soda!” she cried. A wet stain was spreading over her skirt.

  “Sorry, sorry, sorry,” I said, grabbing a napkin from Mary Anne and handing it to the woman. “Mary Anne!” I hissed. “Come on!” I grabbed her arm and pulled her after me.

  “Excuse us, excuse us,” said Mary Anne, as we stumbled along the row.

  “Sorry!” I said, as I stepped on someone’s toe.

  When we had finally made our way out of the stands and were on solid ground, Mary Anne pulled her arm away. “Dawn, are you nuts?” she asked. “Even if that was Cheryl, which seems doubtful, what are we going to do about it?”

  “First of all,” I said. “It was Cheryl. I’m sure of it. And you’ll be sure too, as soon as we find that woman and you can see the dog closer up. And second, when we do find them, we’ll — we’ll — oh, I don’t know. We’ll figure that out when the time comes. Now let’s go!” I started toward the little creek that tumbled along the edge of the park. That was where the woman and her dog had been headed. Mary Anne followed, reluctantly.

  “Do you see her?” I asked. I was a little out of breath, partly just from the excitement.

  “Nope,” said Mary Anne. “She’s nowhere in sight. And with that red suit on, we’d see her if she was. I think we’ve lost her.”

  “No way,” I said. “We have to find her. Let’s keep looking.” I jogged away from the creek and over toward a soccer field that lay on the other side of the park.

  “Look!” said Mary Anne. “Is that her?” She pointed toward the parking lot.

  I saw a flash of red. “It must be!” I said, breaking into a run. We ran as fast as we could toward the person in red. “Oh, no,” I said, once we were close enough to see better. The person in red was a man. A park employee, in a red uniform. He was picking up litter from the parking lot. I bent over to catch my breath. I was so disappointed.

  The man looked at Mary Anne and me. “Are you girls all right?” he asked.

  “We’re looking for a lady in a red jogging suit,” I said, panting. “Did you see her go by?”

  “She has a big brown dog with her,” added Mary Anne, who was breathing hard, too.

  “Haven’t seen her,” said the man. “Try the meadow, over there,” he added, pointing. “Lots of people play with their dogs in the meadow.”

  “I don’t see any meadow,” I said. “Where is it?”

  “Through the trees, there,” he said. “You take that little path.”

  I looked at Mary Anne. “Should we try it?” I asked. I felt as if we were on a wild-goose chase. Or a wild-dog chase, in this case.

  “We’ve come this far,” she said. “We might as well.” She smiled at me.

  “All right!” I said, feeling determined again. “Let’s go.” I thanked the man in red, and then we started out again. We cut through the woods and came out on the other side at the edge of a wide meadow. Dotted all over it were people and dogs. “He was right,” I said. “There are a lot of dogs here. But is Cheryl one of them?” I scanned the area for any signs of red.

  “I see her!” said Mary Anne. “Over there!” She pointed, and I saw the woman standing on a little hill. She was throwing a Frisbee for her dog. For Cheryl.

  “That’s her,” I said. “It really is. Come on!” We jogged along. Soon we were close enough to get a really good look.

  “That is Cheryl,” said Mary Anne. “You were right. I know it’s her because I remember that darker brown spot on her shoulder. It looks like a heart.”

  We stood and watched for a few seconds as the woman threw the Frisbee and Cheryl ran to fetch it. “Good girl, Cleo,” said the woman, when the dog returned with the Frisbee. “Good girl.”

  “Cleo?” I said under my breath. “Maybe her new name is Cleopatra.” I was in a daze as I stood there watching Cheryl run and jump.

  “What do we do now?” asked Mary Anne.

  “Do?” I said. I hadn’t figured that part out yet. Should we confront the woman? Should we steal Cheryl back? We had to take some kind of action, but I couldn’t figure out what it should be. “Um,” I said.

  “Let’s call the police,” Mary Anne said. “I mean, you’ve been looking for some kind of real evidence, and here it is.”

  “You’re right,” I replied. “We’ve got to call them. They can’t ignore this.” Then I realized that we were standing in the middle of a big park. “But where’s a phone?”

  “Back by the parking lot!” said Mary Anne. “I bet there’s one in that little building.”

  “Right,” I said. “Okay, look. You stay here and keep an eye on the woman and Cheryl. If they try to leave, stall them. Keep them here until I get back.”

  Mary Anne looked desperate. “Stall them? How?”

  “I don’t know,” I said. “Ask her some questions about her dog. People love to talk about their pets.”

  “Okay,” said Mary Anne. “But hurry.”

  I took off running, back toward the path through the woods. My heart was beating fast, and my breath was uneven. When I reached the path, I slowed down because it was a little darker in the woods and I couldn’t see as well. Even so, I tripped over a root and fell — hard. I lay sprawled on the ground for a second, and then made myself get up and keep jogging.

  When I came out by the parking lot, I saw the man in red, still picking up litter. “Is there a phone somewhere?” I asked.

  He looked at me. “There’s one in there,” he said, pointing toward the building. “Are you sure you’re all right?”

  I looked down at myself. My shirt was streaked with dirt and I had ripped the knee of my jeans. I pushed my hair back and felt twigs in it. “I’m okay,” I said. “But I need to make a call.” I ran to the buildi
ng, hurried inside, and found the phone. My hands were shaking as I put in some change and dialed the police. “Good thing I remember that number,” I said to myself.

  “Stoneybrook Police,” said the man who answered.

  “This is Dawn Schafer,” I said. “I’m calling from the recreation park in New Hope. It’s about the dog-theft case.”

  “Yes?” the man said, sounding a little impatient.

  “There’s a woman here with a dog that I happen to know was stolen last week.”

  “Maybe it’s the dog’s owner,” said the policeman. “Maybe the dog has been found and returned.”

  “It’s not,” I said. “I know the owner. This is a different woman. But she’s got the stolen dog.”

  “Okay, listen,” the officer said, a little wearily. “I’ll put a call through to the New Hope sergeant, and he’ll send someone out to check on it. Where exactly is the dog, and where are you right now?”

  I told him, and he said to wait in the parking lot until the police arrived. “How long will they take?” I asked.

  “A few minutes,” he said. “Just be patient.”

  I ran back outside and paced around the parking lot. The man in red was gone by then, so there was nobody to talk to. I walked back and forth, back and forth, checking my watch every thirty seconds. I kept thinking of poor Mary Anne, waiting over in the meadow. I hoped for her sake that the woman was still playing with Cheryl. Stalling her wouldn’t be easy.

  Finally, after almost ten minutes, a squad car pulled up and a smiling policewoman stepped out. “Are you the girl that called about the dog?” she asked.

  “Yes,” I said eagerly. “Come on!” I started to jog back toward the woods.

  “Whoa, take it easy,” said the policewoman. “I have to call in first and let headquarters know what I’m up to.” She made a quick call on her radio, and then followed me through the woods and out into the meadow.

  Mary Anne was standing near the spot where I’d left her. The woman was nearby, talking to another dog owner. Cheryl was playing with a black Labrador retriever. “Boy, am I glad to see you,” Mary Anne said. “So far I haven’t had to stall her, but I was sure she was going to decide to leave any minute.”

  “Which dog is it?” asked the policewoman.

  “The brown one,” I said.

  She looked at Cheryl for a moment. “We do have a report on a missing Great Dane,” she said. “Okay, let me do the talking here. Which woman was walking the dog?”

  I pointed her out. The policewoman started across the meadow, and Mary Anne and I followed behind. “Excuse me, ma’am,” said the officer. “New Hope police.” She flashed her badge. “I just have a few questions about your dog.”

  “Cleo?” asked the woman. “What about her?”

  “How long have you owned her?”

  “About a week,” said the woman. “I got her through a pet store in Stoneybrook. I’d asked for a Great Dane weeks ago, and they finally got one in. She cost the earth, but she’s worth it. Aren’t you, Cleo?” She smiled down at the dog. Then she looked back at the policewoman with a worried expression. “Is there a problem?” she asked.

  “Yes!” I blurted out. “That dog was stolen! That’s how that pet store gets dogs. When you tell them what you want, they go out and steal it from someone else!” I was too excited to keep my mouth shut. Suddenly I knew that I’d been right about how the dog-theft ring operated. I still didn’t know how or why Mr. Tate was involved, but I was sure he was.

  The woman looked shocked. “Stolen?” she asked. “But — but that’s awful. If this is all true, someone must miss this dog very much!”

  “They do,” I said, thinking of the Mancusis.

  “Can I ask you to come down to the station?” asked the policewoman. “Bring the dog along, and any receipts or papers you have for her. It looks like we may be about to solve this case, thanks to these girls.”

  I smiled. Finally, somebody believed me.

  “Hey, what’s that noise?” asked Mary Anne. A roar had gone up from the direction of the baseball diamond. “I bet the game’s over. Let’s go see who won.”

  The policewoman said she’d be in touch, and thanked us again. We took off running. We ran back through the woods, past the parking lot, and along the creek. And when we arrived at the baseball field, we could see right away what had happened. There stood Bart and Kristy, surrounded by a crowd of very happy kids. “Hip, hip, hurray!” yelled the kids, tossing their hats in the air.

  The Krashers had won the game.

  We ran to Kristy. “Kristy!” said Mary Anne. “You did it! You won!”

  “We did it,” said Kristy, looking dazed. “We actually won!”

  Bart squeezed her shoulder. “How about that?” he said. “The Stoneybrook All-Stars really did it.”

  Mary Anne and I quickly told Kristy what had happened while she was busy coaching. She grinned. “Maybe they’ll find Shannon now,” she said. “But I’m not going to tell David Michael anything yet. I don’t want to get his hopes up until we’re sure.”

  The Krashers were milling around giving each other the high-five and talking excitedly about the ninth-inning double play that Nicky and David Michael had made. Meanwhile, the New Hope team was looking dejected as they picked up their equipment and got ready to leave.

  “Hey, you guys,” said Kristy to the Krashers. “I think we forgot something. How about a cheer for the other team?” The kids quit fooling around immediately, and gathered around Kristy and Bart.

  “Two, four, six, eight, who do we appreciate!” they chanted. “New Hope! New Hope! Yay!”

  The cheer didn’t seem to make the New Hope kids feel much better, but it was a nice gesture. Afterward, the teams lined up and walked past each other, each kid shaking every other kid’s hand as they passed. “Good game,” they said to each other. “Nice pitching. Good game. Nice hitting.”

  Kristy couldn’t stop grinning. “I still can’t believe it,” she said. “I never saw my kids play so well.”

  By then, most of the Stoneybrook fans were on the field. Mothers were hugging their kids, dads were giving the high-five, and little sisters and brothers were dancing around happily. Even Claire and Margo were smiling, as if they’d finally forgotten the hurt of not being included.

  “Hey, Mary Anne,” I said, pulling her aside. “Will you come to the police station with me when we get back? I want to find out what happened with Cheryl and everything.”

  “Okay,” she replied. “I bet Mr. Pike will drop us off there on the way home.”

  Soon the Pikes were ready to leave. Mary Anne and I congratulated Kristy and Bart one more time. “We’ll talk to you later,” I said to Kristy. “As soon as we find out what’s going on.”

  Mr. Pike was glad to drop us off at the police station. “Sounds like you girls really helped to crack this case,” he said. “I’m impressed!” Claire and Margo were impressed, too.

  “Can I have your autographs?” asked Margo. She’d been collecting autographs from the Krashers, too.

  “Sure,” I said. “Don’t lose this, now,” I joked. “It may be valuable some day.” I wrote my name on the scrap of paper she held out. So did Mary Anne. It was fun to feel like a hero.

  * * *

  The first thing we heard when we walked into the police station was barking. It sounded as if fifty dogs were in there! But we couldn’t see them. They must have been in a back room.

  “Hi,” I said to the policeman at the desk. He was the one I’d talked to twice before.

  “Hi,” he said. Then he looked at me more closely. “Oh, hi!” he repeated, sounding much more enthusiastic. “Hey, you were right about that car, and about Mr. Tate and all. You’re a real good detective, you know that?”

  I blushed, but I was pleased. Now he couldn’t treat me like a pest anymore. “It was nothing,” I said. “I just had a feeling, that’s all. And I followed up on it.”

  “Well, you did the right thing,” he said. “That Tate charac
ter —” He was interrupted by loud barking.

  “Is Cheryl here?” I asked.

  “Is that the Great Dane?” he said. “She’s here. So are a few of her doggie pals.”

  Just then a door flew open behind him, and Cheryl galloped out. A startled policeman came running behind her, and behind him was —

  “Shannon!” said Mary Anne. She opened her arms, and Shannon ran to her. I saw Mary Anne’s eyes fill with tears as she hugged Shannon and kissed her nose. “Oh, boy,” she said. “Are Kristy and David Michael going to be glad to see you!”

  “We’ve already notified her owners,” said the policeman.

  I bent down to pat her, too. “Good girl, Shannon,” I said, feeling my own eyes begin to sting. “Were you scared? Everything’s okay now. Kristy and David Michael will be here soon to take you home.”

  “Oh, Cheryl,” I heard a voice behind me, and I turned to see Mrs. Mancusi bury her face in Cheryl’s neck. Cheryl was wagging her tail as hard as she could, and trying to lick Mrs. Mancusi all over. I felt a couple of tears spill down my cheeks as I watched their reunion. I was starting to understand the love that people have for their pets.

  A couple of other dogs were running around; I recognized a Weimaraner and a little Pomeranian and pointed them out to Mary Anne.

  “You really learned a lot about dogs, didn’t you?” she said.

  I grinned. “All that studying.”

  Just then, Mrs. Mancusi stood up and smiled at the police officer. “How can I thank you?” she said. “I’m so happy to have my baby back.”

  Cheryl didn’t look like much of a baby to me, except maybe a baby horse.

  “Don’t thank me,” said the policeman. “Thank that girl over there, and her friends. They’re the ones who solved the case.”

  Mrs. Mancusi turned and noticed us for the first time. “Dawn!” she exclaimed. “Mary Anne. Did you girls have something to do with this?”