John Grisham - The abduction

“You got a question?”

“Yes, Mr. Leeper, I have a question. Why did you come to Strattenburg?”

“I had to go somewhere. Couldn’t just hang around outside the prison, know what I mean?”

“I suppose. You lived here once, correct?”

“When I was a kid, sixth grade, I think. Went to the middle school for a year, then we moved off.”

“And you have relatives in the area?”

“Some distant kin.”

“One of those distant relatives is Imelda May Underwood, whose mother had a third cousin named Ruby Dell Butts, whose father was Franklin Butts, better known out in Massey’s Mill as ‘Logchain’ Butts, and ‘Logchain’ had a half-brother named Winstead Leeper, ‘Winky’ for short, and I believe he was your father. Died about ten years ago.”

Leeper absorbed all this and finally said, “Winky Leeper was my father, yes.”

“So somewhere in the midst of all this divorcing and remarrying, you came to be a tenth or eleventh cousin of Imelda May Underwood, who married a man named Thomas Finnemore and now goes by the name of May Finnemore, mother of young April. This sound right to you, Mr. Leeper?”

“I never had any use for my family.”

“Well, I’m sure they’re real proud of you, too.”

The door opened and the officer placed a paper cup of steaming black coffee on the table in front of Leeper. It appeared to be too hot to drink, so Leeper just stared at it. Slater paused for a second, then pressed on. “We have copies of five letters April wrote to you in prison. Sweet, kid stuff-she felt sorry for you and wanted to be pen pals. Did you write her back?”

“Yep.”

“How often?”

“I don’t know. Several times, I guess.”

“Did you come back to Strattenburg to see April?”

Leeper finally picked up the cup and took a sip of coffee. Slowly, he said, “I’m not sure I want to answer that question.”

For the first time, Detective Slater seemed to become irritated. “Why are you afraid of that question, Mr. Leeper?”

“I don’t have to answer your question. Says so right there on your little piece of paper. I can walk out right now. I know the rules.”

“Did you come here to see April?”

Leeper took another sip, and for a long time nothing was said. The four officers stared at him. He stared at the paper cup. Finally, he said, “Look, here’s the situation. You want something. I want something. You want the girl. I want a deal.”

“What kind of a deal, Leeper?” Slater shot back.

“Just a moment ago it was Mr. Leeper. Now, just Leeper. Do I frustrate you, Detective? If so, I’m real sorry. Here’s what I have in mind. I know I’m going back to prison, but I’m really tired of California. The prisons are brutal-overcrowded, lots of gangs, violence, rotten food-you know what I mean, Detective Slater?”

Slater had never been inside a prison, but to move things along he said, “Sure.”

“I want to do my time here, where the slammers are a bit nicer. I know because I’ve had a good look at them.”

“Where’s the girl, Leeper?” Slater said. “If you kidnapped her, you’re looking at another life sentence. If she’s dead, you’re looking at capital murder and death row.”

“Why would I harm my little cousin?”

“Where is she, Leeper?”

Another long sip of coffee, then Leeper crossed his arms over his chest and grinned at Detective Slater. Seconds ticked away.

“You’re playing games, Leeper,” Detective Capshaw said.

“Maybe, maybe not. Is there any reward money on the table?”

“Not for you,” Slater said.

“Why not? You give me some money, I’ll take you to the girl.”

“It doesn’t work that way.”

“Fifty thousand bucks, and you can have her.”

“What will you do with fifty thousand bucks, Leeper?” Slater asked. “You’re in prison for the rest of your life.”

“Oh, money goes a long way in prison. You get me the money, and you arrange things so I can serve my time here, and we got a deal.”

“You’re dumber than I thought,” Slater said, frustrated.

Capshaw added quickly, “And we thought you were pretty dumb before we got started with this conversation.”

“Come on, boys. That gets you nowhere. We got a deal?”

“No deal, Leeper,” Slater said.

“That’s too bad.”

“No deal, but I’ll make a promise. If that girl is harmed in any way, I’ll hound you to your grave.”

Leeper laughed loudly, then said, “I love it when the cops start making threats. It’s over, boys. I ain’t talking no more.”

“Where’s the girl, Leeper?” Capshaw asked.

Leeper just grinned and shook his head.

Theo preferred not to stay at school after classes and watch the girls play soccer. He himself did not play soccer, not that he had the choice. An asthma condition kept him away from strenuous activities, but even without the asthma he doubted he would be playing soccer. He had tried it as a six-year-old, before the asthma, and never got the hang of it. When he was nine, while playing baseball, he collapsed at third base after hitting a triple, and that ended his short career in team sports. He took up golf.

Mr. Mount, though, loved soccer, had even played in college, and was offering extra credit to students who hung around for the game. Plus, there was an unwritten rule at Strattenburg Middle School that the girls cheered for the boys, and vice versa. Any other time, Theo would have happily watched from the bleachers, taking casual notice of the game but really sizing up the twenty-two girls on the field and those on the bench as well. But not today. He wanted to be elsewhere, on his bike, handing out the MISSING flyers, doing something to aid in the search for April.

It was a terrible day for a game of any kind. The Strattenburg kids were distracted. The players and their fans lacked energy. Even the opposing team, from Elksburg, forty miles away, seemed subdued. When another helicopter flew over ten minutes into the game, every girl on the field paused for a second and looked up in apprehension.

As expected, Mr. Mount gradually made his way over to a group of women. The worst kept secret at school was that Mr. Mount had his eye on Miss Highlander, a stunning seventh-grade math teacher just two years out of college. Every boy in the seventh and eighth grades had a desperate, secret crush on Miss Highlander, and evidently Mr. Mount had some interest as well. He was in his mid-thirties, single, by far the coolest male teacher in the school, and the sixteen boys in his homeroom were aggressively pushing him to pursue Miss Highlander.

When Mr. Mount began to make his move, so did Theo. He assumed correctly that Mr. Mount’s attention would soon be focused elsewhere; it was the perfect time for a quiet exit. Theo and three others drifted from the soccer field and were soon on their bikes racing away from the school. Their search party was much smaller, and this was by design. Yesterday’s had too many kids, with too many opinions, and too much activity that might be noticed by cops such as Officer Bard. Plus, there had been fewer volunteers during the school day as Theo and Woody got things organized. The sense of urgency that Theo felt was not shared by many of his classmates. They were concerned all right, but many of them thought that searches by kids on bikes were a waste of time. The police had SWAT teams, helicopters, dogs, and no shortage of manpower. If they couldn’t find April, the search was hopeless.

Theo, along with Woody, Aaron, and Chase, returned to the Delmont neighborhood and roamed the streets for a few minutes to make sure the police were elsewhere. With no cops in sight, they quickly began passing out MISSING flyers and tacking them to utility poles. They inspected a few empty buildings, looked behind some run-down apartments, picked their way through an overgrown drainage ditch, checked under two bridges, and were making real progress when Woody’s older brother called his cell phone. Woody froze, listened intently, then reported to the gang, “They’ve found something down by the river.”