Dad is surprised when I tell him Mason has dropped by so we can take Roxie out for a walk after dinner. “I was under the impression you don’t really enjoy spending time with Mason,” he says when I come back inside for my hoodie. Though it got hot again during the day, the air tonight has turned chilly. It reminds me that summer will not last forever.
“I don’t. I mean…I didn’t. He’s not as bad as I thought.” As the words come out of my mouth, I realize something. I mean them.
Mom looks up from the book she is reading. “That’s lovely news,” she says. “I had a hunch it might happen one day. Don’t forget to reactivate the alarm on your way out.”
Nathaniel has not been answering his cell or responding to emails. Mason thinks Nathaniel’s dad has probably confiscated his phone.
So we make a point of passing Nathaniel’s house. There are pink rose petals all over the front stairs. The living-room curtains stir, and we see Nathaniel’s grandmother peering out the window as if she is expecting to see Willy. She waves when we pass. There is no sign of Nathaniel.
The front door opens and Fred steps out, holding a broom. When he starts sweeping up the rose petals, he spots Roxie. “That’s a beautiful dog,” he calls out. Then he recognizes Mason and me. “You’re the kids from forensics camp, aren’t you? Nathaniel’s friends?”
“Yup,” Mason says. “Hey, if you don’t mind us asking, how is Nathaniel? We were supposed to hang out with him tonight, so when we didn’t hear from him, we figured he was still in trouble.”
Fred sets the broom down. “You had plans, did you? Well, his father has confined him to his room. I tried to reason with André—Nathaniel adores that dog, and he would never do anything to hurt his grandmother—but André told me it wasn’t my place.” He sighs. “I suppose Nathaniel isn’t the only one in this family who needs time to get used to me.”
Fred comes down the stairs so he can pet Roxie. “You look after this beautiful dog, okay?”
We promise that we will. After Fred shuts the door behind him, Mason turns to me. “I wonder what Nathaniel would say if he knew Fred was sticking up for him.”
Stacey, Muriel and Nico are waiting at the corner of Lansdowne Avenue and Sherbrooke Street. “Nice to meet you, Roxie,” Nico says, squatting down to shake Roxie’s paw. “For the record, I’m a good guy, not a bad guy. So don’t eat me.”
The others have not heard from Nathaniel either. It feels strange not to have him with us—partly because we have gotten used to being six, but also because Nathaniel was so involved in the plans for tonight.
Nico and Muriel will meet our contact person. I am trying to stop calling him the dognapper—in case he isn’t. Mason will hide out by the utility shed near the park entrance. From there, he will be able to see Nico and Muriel. Stacey and I will be stationed at opposite sides of the park. She will wait behind a giant recycling bin (why am I not surprised she chose that spot?). I will be crouched underneath the slide in the kids’ play area.
The plan is that Mason will text Stacey and me to let us know what is going on. We have even come up with a code in case of emergency.
1=Things are fine.
2=Make a run for it.
3=Call the police.
“What about Roxie?” Mason asks. Roxie’s one stand-up ear perks up when she hears her name. I think she likes it when people talk about her. “If we’re going to use her for bait like Nathaniel said, she should be with me—in plain view near the entrance to the park.”
I take a deep breath. “She can go with you, but only if you promise not to let her out of your sight. Not even for a millisecond,” I say.
“Of course I promise.”
There is a bike rack by the utility shed. “Stay,” I tell Roxie as I loop her leash over the bike rack. “I’ll come back for you.” She looks at me with her soft dark eyes. I give her a quick scratch behind the ears. “I’m glad you understand me,” I say.
It is twenty to eight—time for me to get to the play area. There is not much grass underneath the slide, just dried-up earth. I thought of this spot because when I was little I used to hide here when we played hide-and-seek. I squeeze in under the slide. It’s a good thing I’m not taller, or this could get uncomfortable.
Maybe it’s because I’ve got nothing to do or because I’m thinking about criminals that my mind takes me back again to the day of the break-in. This time I try to let the memories come without fighting them.
I see a little girl blocking her ears, then unblocking them. Then I hear a woman’s voice calling for help. For a moment I think someone in the park is in trouble, but then I realize the sound is in my memory. And now I remember wondering whether there was a woman calling out on TV—or if it was Mom. The little girl blocks her ears again, like that monkey who will hear no evil. She does not want to hear. She is too afraid.
Another feeling washes over me, one I have never been aware of before when I remembered the break-in. Guilt. I didn’t do anything to help my mom.
And then, for some reason I don’t quite understand, I think of Larry’s dog Pixie, the one he has to muzzle. Didn’t Larry say some people were fear biters too? I think of how I sometimes snap at my parents, and how nasty I can be to Mason. Could I be one of those fear biters Larry was talking about? Have I been afraid all these years?
A squeegee kid walks by, drawing me back to the present. He is wearing a ratty-looking gray wool cap and carrying a backpack. He whistles, and there is something familiar about the tune, but I can’t place it. What is that song? I don’t think he is the contact person—he’s just some kid walking through the park—but even so, I do not breathe or move a muscle. I figure it is an opportunity to practice being invisible, and it seems to be working because the squeegee kid walks right past me, still whistling.
I check the time on my cell phone. Seven fifty-five. I can feel my heart speeding up even though nothing has happened yet.
I text Mason. Any news?
No, he texts me back. Just some squeegee kid walking through the park. He said “Hi pooch” when he passed Roxie.
That is when I place the song. It’s “Who Let the Dogs Out?”