The Abduction (Theodore Boone 2) - Page 3

Theo shoved out his hand and said, “I’m Theo Boone.” He emphasized his last name in hopes that one of the officers might recognize it. He’d learned that most of the policemen knew most of the lawyers, and maybe, just maybe, one of these guys would realize that Theo’s parents were well-respected attorneys. But, it didn’t work. There were so many lawyers in Strattenburg.

“Yes, sir, we’re helping you guys search for April Finnemore,” Theo went on pleasantly, flashing his braces with a wide smile at Officer Bard.

“Are you the leader of this gang?” Bard snapped.

Theo glanced at Woody, who’d lost all confidence and appeared frightened, as if he were about to be dragged away to jail and perhaps beaten. “I guess,” Theo answered.

“So, who asked you boys and girls to join in the search?”

“Well, sir, no one really asked us. April is our friend and we’re worried.” Theo was trying to find the right tone. He wanted to be very respectful, but at the same time he was convinced they were doing nothing wrong.

“How sweet,” Bard said, grinning at the other two officers. He was holding a flyer and he showed it to Theo. “Who printed these?” he asked.

Theo wanted to say, “Sir, it’s really none of your business who printed the flyers.” But this would only make a tense situation much worse. So he said, “We printed them at school today.”

“And this is April?” Bard said, pointing to the smiling face square in the middle of the flyer.

Theo wanted to say, “No, sir, that’s another girl’s face we’re using to make the search even more difficult by confusing everybody.”

April’s face had been all over the local news. Surely, Bard recognized her.

Theo said, simply, “Yes, sir.”

“And who gave you kids permission to tack these flyers on public property?”

“No one.”

“You know it’s a violation of city code, against the law? You know this?” Bard had been watching too many bad-cop shows on television, and he was working much too hard to try to frighten the kids.

Justin and his team made a silent entry into the fray. They rolled to a s

top behind the other bikers. Eighteen kids, three policemen, and several neighbors drifting over to check on things.

At this point Theo should’ve played along and professed ignorance of the city’s laws, but he simply could not do so. He said, very respectfully, “No, sir, it’s not a violation of the city code to put flyers on poles used for telephones and electricity. I checked the law online during school today.”

It was immediately obvious that Officer Bard wasn’t sure what to say next. His bluff had been called. He glanced at his two pals, both of whom seemed to be amused and not the least bit supportive. The kids were smirking at him. It was Bard against everyone.

Theo pressed on, “The law clearly says that permits must be approved for posters and flyers dealing with politicians and people who are running for office, but not for anything else. These flyers are legal as long as they are taken down within ten days. That’s the law.”

“I don’t like your attitude, kid,” Bard shot back, puffing out his chest and actually putting a hand on his service revolver. Theo noticed the gun, but wasn’t worried about being shot. Bard was trying to play the role of a tough cop, and he was not doing a very good job.

Being the only child of two lawyers, Theo had already developed a healthy suspicion of those people who thought they had more power than others, including policemen. He had been taught to respect all adults, especially those with authority, but at the same time, his parents had instilled in him a desire to always look for the truth. When a person—adult, teenager, child—was not being honest, then it was wrong to go along with their fraud or lie.

As everyone looked at Theo and waited on his response, he swallowed hard and said, “Well, sir, there’s nothing wrong with my attitude. And, even if I had a bad attitude, it’s not against the law.”

Bard yanked a pen and a notepad from his pocket and said, “What’s your name?”

Theo thought, I gave you my name three minutes ago, but he said, “Theodore Boone.”

Bard scribbled this down in a flurry, as if whatever he was writing would one day carry great weight in a court of law. Everyone waited. Finally, one of the other officers took a few steps toward Bard and said, “Is your dad Woods Boone?” His nameplate identified him as Sneed.

Finally, Theo thought. “Yes, sir.”

“And your mother’s a lawyer, too, right?” Officer Sneed asked.

“Yes, sir.”

Bard’s shoulders slumped a few inches as he stopped scribbling on his pad. He looked puzzled, as if he was thinking, Great. This kid knows the law and I don’t, plus he’s got two parents who’ll probably sue me if I do something wrong.

Sneed tried to help him by asking a pointless question. “You kids live around here?”

Darren slowly raised his hand and said, “I live a few blocks away, over on Emmitt Street.”

The situation was sort of a standoff, with neither side sure what to do next. Sibley Taylor got off her bike and walked to a spot next to Theo. She smiled at Bard and Sneed, and said, “I don’t understand. Why can’t we work together here? April is our friend and we’re very worried. The police are looking for her. We’re looking for her. We’re not doing anything wrong. What’s the big deal?”

Bard and Sneed could think of no quick response to these simple questions with obvious answers.

In every class, there’s always the kid who speaks before he thinks, or says what the others are thinking but are afraid to say. In this search party, that kid was Aaron Helleberg, who spoke English, German, and Spanish and got himself in trouble in all three. Aaron blurted, “Shouldn’t you guys be looking for April instead of harassing us?”

Officer Bard sucked in his gut as if he’d been kicked there, and appeared ready to start shooting when Sneed jumped in. “Okay, here’s the deal. You can hand out the flyers but you can’t tack them onto city property—utility poles, bus-stop benches, things like that. It’s almost five o’clock. I want you off the streets at six. Fair enough?” He was glaring at Theo when he finished.

Theo shrugged and said, “Fair enough.” But it wasn’t fair at all. They could tack the posters onto utility poles all day long. (But not city benches.) The police did not have the authority to change the city’s laws, nor did they have the right to order the kids off the streets by 6:00 p.m.

However, at that moment a compromise was needed, and Sneed’s deal was not that bad. The search would continue, and the police could say that they kept the kids in line. Solving a dispute often requires each side to back down a little, something else Theo had learned from his parents.

The search party biked back to Truman Park where it regrouped. Four of the kids had other things to do and left. Twenty minutes after they last saw Bard and Sneed, Theo and his gang moved into a neighborhood known as Maury Hill, in the southeast part of the city, as far away from Delmont as possible. They passed out dozens of flyers, inspected a few empty buildings, chatted with curious neighbors, and quit promptly at 6:00 p.m.

Chapter 5

The Boone family dinner schedule was as predictable as a clock on the wall. On Mondays, they ate at Robilio’s, an old Italian restaurant downtown, not far from the office. On Tuesdays, they ate soup and sandwiches at a homeless shelter where they volunteered. On Wednesdays, Mr. Boone picked up carryout Chinese from Dragon Lady, and they ate on folding trays as they watched television. On Thursdays, Mrs. Boone picked up a roasted chicken at a Turkish deli, and they ate it with hummus and pita bread. On Fridays, they ate fish at Malouf’s, a popular restaurant owned by an old Lebanese couple who yelled at each other constantly. On Saturdays, each of the three Boones took turns choosing what and where to eat. Theo usually preferred pizza and a movie. On Sundays, Mrs. Boone finally did her own cooking, which was Theo’s least favorite meal of the week, though he was too smart to say so. Marcella didn’t like to cook. She worked hard and spent long hours at the office, and simply did not enjoy rushing home and facing more work in the kitchen. Besides, there were plenty of good ethnic restaurants and delicatessens in Strattenburg, and it made much more sense to let real chefs do the cooking, at least in the opinion of Mrs. Marcella Boone. Theo didn’t mind, nor did his father. When she did cook, she expected her husband and her son to clean up afterward, and both men preferred to avoid the dishwashing.

Dinner was always at 7:00 p.m. on the dot, another clear sign of organized people who hurried through each day with one eye on the clock. Theo placed his paper plate of chicken chow mein and sweet-and-sour shrimp on his TV tray and settled on the sofa. He then lowered a smaller plate onto the floor, where Judge was waiting with great anticipation. Judge loved Chinese food and expected to eat in the den with the humans. Dog food insulted him.

After a couple of bites, Mr. Boone asked, “So, Theo, any news on April?”

“No, sir. Just a lot of gossip at school.”

Tags: John Grisham Theodore Boone Mystery
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