Chapter Sixteen

When the doorbell rang on Saturday, Jessie ran to greet Bryce. She had on a blue parka and snow boots and carried a red zippered envelope with her music inside. He was smiling and so was she.

The sun was bright and most of the sidewalks had been cleared of snow. The two hurried toward the library in the Square.

“What music are you learning?” asked Bryce. He looked fresh from the shower and his hair shone in the sunlight. He wore jeans and a soft green sweater under a camel-color barn coat.

“I have my very first Beethoven piece,” Jessie said. It’s beautiful—and not too hard.”

“I’m working on Beethoven, too,” Bryce said. “He’s the best, I think.”

“With the piano, I hear that Chopin is ‘The One,’” Jessie said. “I can hardly wait.”

“Anything new on the kidnapping?” Bryce asked. He took her free hand and they jumped together over an icy patch.

Now I can’t think, thought Jessie. “Uh…nothing that I know of. My dad is not telling me much because he thinks Tina and I will do something crazy.”

Bryce laughed. “Well I suppose that could happen. But he liked the idea of the garage sale, didn’t he?”

“Sure. Sometimes he gives me credit for being smart. He just worries. Does your dad worry?”

“If he does, he doesn’t show it. Maybe it’s different with boys.”

“You know, Mrs. Livingston has been out of town for a couple of weeks. Do you think she knows anything about the kidnapping?”

“Probably not,” said Bryce. “I don’t think she’s interested in local news. Her whole life is about music.”

By now they were at the library. Bryce hurried up the steps and turned to wave before he opened the big double doors.

Oh, honestly will I ever get over melting when I’m around him? She waved back, cut across the snow in the Square and headed to her piano lesson.

Mrs. Livingston’s home studio was a block past the town center and on the edge of a wheat field. She had just moved in this fall and the house was a perfect little Victorian surrounded by a white picket fence. Painted white with red shutters, it had a pitched roof with lacey wood trim on the eaves. Jessie stood and admired it before she went inside.

Two small dogs with wagging tails raced down the sidewalk toward Jessie. They were tugging back and forth on some kind of object they held between them. Jessie watched them having a great time at their game. As they got closer, she could see they held something blue. A chill ran over her scalp. “Hi, you two. Come here, little doggies,” she said.

Both dogs stopped about three feet from her. They looked wary.

Jessie squatted down to their level. “Nice dogs. Can you come here and see me?”

The dogs stared at her. Then they turned toward the street and took off.

“Stop!” shouted Jessie. “Come!” she ordered.

She was amazed when they turned back and walked toward her. As they got next to Jessie, she said in a soft voice, “Good dogs.” One sat with the object dangling from its mouth. She reached out and gently grabbed the dog’s collar. “You are such a good dog. May I see your toy?”

She unhooked the object from his tooth and petted him at the same time. “Let’s see what your tag says. Hold still. Good Dog!” It was a red rabies tag with the number 68555 stamped on it. She let him go. Jessie could see the other dog had no collar. All of a sudden, both dogs took off down the street.

Jessie opened her hand to look at their toy. It was a blue newborn identity bracelet and its letters spelled NOVAK.

She felt stunned. For a minute she couldn’t move. Her heart was pounding.

“Jessica,” Mrs. Livingston said from her front porch. “Do you know those dogs?”

Jessie opened the gate and walked toward the house.

“No. Do you know who they belong to?” she asked.

“I’ve never seen them before,” answered her teacher. “I don’t think it’s a good idea to pet strange dogs.”

Jessie slipped the bracelet into her pocket. “You’re probably right. But they seemed friendly and were so cute.”

“Well, come inside. We should start your lesson,” said her teacher. She held the door open and Jessie went inside.

In the studio, Jessie removed her parka and hung it on an iron coat post. Her mind was whirling. If I can get through this lesson it’ll be a miracle.

“It’s so good to see you, Jessica. Did you practice every day while I was gone?”

“I might have missed one or two days,” said Jessie. She sat at the piano but her hands shook.

“Why, Jessica, what’s the matter. Are you nervous?” asked Mrs. Livingston. “Maybe we should just talk for a while. Do you like the Beethoven?”

For a minute Jessie forgot the bracelet. “I love it. I feel so grown up getting to play it.”

“It’s a big step!” said her teacher. “And such a lovely piece. Do you want to try it now?”

Jessie opened the music book and began to play. For the next fifty minutes she forgot all about what was in her pocket.

When the doorbell rang, Jessie jerked.

“My, you are jumpy today, Dear. That’s just my next student.” The teacher stood and headed for the door. “I’ll see you next week. Remember practice every day.”

Jessie hurried to the coat rack, put on her parka and felt in the pocket to make sure the bracelet was still there.

Mrs. Livingston stepped into the studio with Bryce following her.

For a brief moment, the teacher was facing the other way. Jessie looked at Bryce with her fingers spread out on the front of her parka.

For a second Bryce stared at her. Then he gave a little nod and walked into the studio.

Jessie stepped into the hallway, went to the front door and quietly left the house.