John Grisham - The abduction

“That’s a stretch,” April said.

“It’s the best I can do.”

“I should’ve left a note.”

“Are you really that worried about your father?” Theo asked. “Look at what this guy did. He took you away in the middle of the night, didn’t tell a single person, and for the past four days, the entire town has been worried sick. Your poor mother is out of her mind. I don’t have much sympathy for him, April.”

“I’ve never liked him,” she said. “But I should’ve left a note.”

“Too late,” Ike said.

“They found a body on Thursday,” Theo said, “and the whole town thought you were dead.”

“A body?” she said.

Ike looked at Theo, and Theo looked at Ike, and away they went. Theo began with the story about their search party roaming through Strattenburg, passing out flyers, offering a reward, poking around empty buildings, dodging the police, and, finally, watching from across the river as the police pulled someone from the Yancey River. Ike added a few details here and there.

Theo said, “We thought you were dead, April. Left floating in the river by Jack Leeper. Mrs. Gladwell called us into assembly to try and cheer us up, but we knew you were dead.”

“I’m so sorry.”

“It’s not your fault,” Ike said. “Blame your father.”

Theo turned around, looked at her, and said, “It’s really good to see you, April.”

Ike smiled to himself. His coffee cup was empty. They left North Carolina, crossed into Virginia, and Ike stopped for more coffee.

A few minutes after 2:00 a.m., Ike’s cell phone vibrated. He fished it out of a pocket and said hello. It was his brother, Woods Boone, calling to chat. He and Mrs. Boone had just arrived home in Strattenburg, and they wanted an update on the road trip. Both kids were asleep, as was the dog, and Ike spoke softly. They were making good time; there was no traffic, no weather, and so far, no radar. Not surprisingly, Theo’s parents were extremely curious about how he found April. Marcella picked up on another phone, and Ike told the story of Theo and Chase Whipple playing detectives, tracking down the band-with a bit of Ike’s help-then randomly poring over thousands of Facebook photos until they got lucky. Once they confirmed the band was in the area, they started calling fraternities and sororities, and got lucky again.

Ike assured them April was fine. He relayed her version of all the lies her father had told her.

Theo’s parents were still in disbelief, but also amused. And they were not really surprised that Theo had not only found April, but went to get her.

When the conversation was over, Ike shifted his weight, tried to stretch his right leg, wiggled here and there in his seat, and then, suddenly, almost fell asleep. “That’s it!” he yelled. “Wake up, you two!” He punched Theo on the left shoulder, ruffled his hair, and said at high volume, “I almost ran off the road. You guys want to die? No! Theo, wake up and talk to me. April, it’s your turn. Tell us a story.”

April was rubbing her eyes, trying to wake up and understand why this crazy man was yelling at them. Even Judge looked confused.

At that moment, Ike hit the brakes and came to an abrupt stop on the shoulder of the road. He jumped out of the SUV and jogged around it three times. An 18-wheeler honked as it roared by. Ike got in, yanked his seat belt into place, then took off.

“April,” he said loudly, “talk to me. I want to know exactly what happened when you left with your father.”

“Sure, Ike,” she said, afraid not to tell the story. “I was asleep,” she began.

“Tuesday night or Wednesday morning?” Ike asked. “What time was it?”

“I don’t know. It was after midnight because I was still awake at midnight. Then I fell asleep.”

“Your mother was not there?” Theo asked.

“No, she was not. I talked to you on the phone, waited and waited for her to come home, then fell asleep. Someone was banging on my door. At first I thought it was a dream, another nightmare, but then I realized it wasn’t, and this was even more terrifying. Someone was in the house, a man, banging on my door and calling my name. I was so scared I couldn’t think, I couldn’t see, I couldn’t move. Then I realized it was my father. He was home, for the first time in a week. I opened the door. He asked where my mother was. I said I didn’t know. She had not been home the last two or three nights. He started cursing, and he told me to change clothes. We were leaving. Hurry up. And so we left. As we drove away, I thought to myself-Leaving is better than staying. I’d rather be in the car with my father than in the house all alone.”

She paused for a second. Ike was wide awake, as was Theo. Both wanted to look back and see if she was crying, but they did not.

“We drove for awhile, maybe two hours. I think we were close to D.C. when we stopped at a motel next to the interstate. We spent the night there, in the same room. When I woke up, he was gone. I waited. He came back with Egg McMuffins and orange juice. While we were eating, he told me he had found my mother, had a long talk with her, and she had agreed that it would be better for me if I stayed with him for a few days, maybe a week, maybe longer. She admitted, according to him, that she was having some problems and needed help. He told me that he had spoken to the principal at the school and she had agreed it would be wise if I stayed away from home. She would help me get extra tutoring if I needed it when I returned. I asked him the name of the principal, and, of course, he didn’t know it. I remember thinking how odd, but then it would not be unusual for my father to forget someone’s name ten seconds after a conversation with her.”

Theo glanced back. April was gazing out the side window, seeing nothing, just chatting pleasantly with an odd smile on her face.

“We left that motel and drove to Charlottesville, Virginia. The band played that night-Wednesday, I guess it was-at a place called Miller’s. It’s an old bar that’s now famous because it’s where the Dave Matthews Band got its start.”

“I love that band,” Theo said.

“They’re okay,” Ike said, a wiser voice from an older generation.

“My father thought it was so cool playing at Miller’s.”

“How’d you get in the bar when you’re thirteen years old?” Theo asked.

“I don’t know. I was with the band. It’s not like I was drinking and smoking. The next day we drove to another town, maybe it was Roanoke, where the band played to an empty house in an old music hall. What day was that?”

“Thursday,” Ike said.

“Then we drove to Raleigh.”

“Were you in the van with the band?” Ike asked.

“No. My father had his car, as did two other guys. We always followed the van. Zack was the driver and the roadie. My father kept me away from the other band members. These guys fight and bicker worse than a bunch of little kids.”

“And drugs?” Ike asked.

“Yes, and drinking, and girls. It’s silly and kinda sad to watch forty-year-old men trying to act cool in front of a bunch of college girls. But not my father. He was by far the best behaved.”

“That’s because you were around,” Ike said.

“I suppose.”

“How about a pit stop, Ike?” Theo said, pointing to a busy exit ahead.

“Sure. I need some more coffee.”

“Where are we going when we get to Strattenburg?” April asked.

“Where do you want to go?” Ike asked.

“I’m not sure I want to go to my house,” she said.

“Let’s go to Theo’s. His mother is trying to find your mother. I suspect she’ll be there, and she’ll be thrilled to see you.”

There 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.