The Case of the Missing Family Read online

  You also shouldn’t yell when you’re trying to hide.

  “Don’t you think it’s odd that Uncle Marty is taking my old family’s stuff in the middle of the night?” I say in a friendly, but quiet voice. “Doesn’t that seem just a little suspicious?”

  “MAYBE A LITTLE,” Mouse says softly.

  “The only way to find out what Uncle Marty is up to is to hide in the back of the van,” I say.

  Mouse drops to his belly. “WELL,” he says, “I DON’T WANT TO GET IN A VAN THAT MAY BE LEAVING FOUR LAKES.”

  I can’t blame Mouse for that. But I have to go. I have to find out what happened to my old family.

  “I understand,” I tell Mouse. “This is probably something I should do by myself, anyway.”

  I keep my eyes on Uncle Marty and Raina. It takes them a while to pack all that stuff in the van and onto the back of the trailer. But finally the last box is loaded. I watch as Uncle Marty and Raina tie everything to the trailer with a big rope. Then they head back up the front walk.

  Finally!

  As soon as they’re in the house, I zoom across the front lawn. Mouse is right on my heels.

  “ARE YOU SURE ABOUT THIS, BUDDY?” Mouse asks as I skid to a stop in front of the open van door.

  There’s a lot of stuff back here. Boxes, suitcases, even the kitchen table and chairs. But it’s all my old family’s stuff. It smells just like them.

  “I’m sure,” I say. I climb into the van and crawl around the boxes and suitcases until I come to a chair that is wedged up against the front seat. There’s just enough room for me to hide underneath.

  “GOOD LUCK,” Mouse says. “I HOPE YOU FIND WHAT YOU’RE LOOKING FOR.”

  I hope I find what I’m looking for, too.

  “Ah-choo!” Raina sneezes. “Ah-choo! Ah-choo!” She’s been sneezing since we left Kayla’s house.

  Raina sniffs. “If I didn’t know better, I’d swear there was a dog in here,” she tells Uncle Marty. “I only ... ah-choo! ... sneeze like this when I’m around dogs.”

  I scoot a little farther under the chair.

  “It must be that dog my niece had,” Uncle Marty says. “His hair is probably all over their stuff. Why don’t we open the windows for a little bit? See if that helps.”

  I hear the windows go down. All kinds of night smells fill the van. Crickets. Owls. Wet grass. Mmm. I LOVE crickets, owls, and wet grass. Night smells are my favorite smells!

  “Did you ... ah-ah-choo! ... ever think about keeping Kayla’s dog?” Raina asks Uncle Marty.

  “Me?” Uncle Marty says. “No. I didn’t want that dog.”

  “Why not? It sounds like he was a nice dog. And his family sure loved him.”

  I don’t like the way Raina says that. She makes it sound like Kayla, Dad, Mom and I are all ... that word. And we’re not. None of us are.

  “I’m not a dog person,” Uncle Marty says. “And even if I was, dogs aren’t allowed in my apartment.”

  “Well, I’d have a dog if I wasn’t allergic to them,” Raina says. “A big one who would go for long walks with me and play fetch. Ah-choo!”

  I think I like Raina. It’s too bad she’s allergic to dogs.

  “So what did you do with Kayla’s dog?” Raina asks.

  “I ... took him to the pound,” Uncle Marty says.

  Raina gasps. “You what?”

  “I didn’t know what else to do,” Uncle Marty says. “My brother’s neighbor picked the dog up from the kennel, but he and his wife travel a lot so they couldn’t keep him. I didn’t know anyone else who wanted a dog. What else could I have done?”

  He could have taken me to Kayla and Dad. They would’ve wanted me. Wouldn’t they?

  “I don’t know,” Raina says, shifting in her seat. “It just seems like you could have tried harder to find him a home. What if he doesn’t get adopted? You know what happens to dogs who don’t get adopted, don’t you?”

  I don’t know what happens to dogs who don’t adopt humans. I just know that they disappear. Forever.

  “Relax. He’s already been adopted,” Uncle Marty says. “I called the pound a couple of weeks ago to check.”

  This is all very interesting, but I wish Uncle Marty and Raina would stop talking about me and start talking about Kayla and Dad. I know what happened to me. I don’t know what happened to them.

  But pretty soon Uncle Marty and Raina stop talking altogether.

  I put my head on my paws and listen to the owls and the crickets and the sound of the moving van. It’s relaxing. In fact, it’s so relaxing I am almost falling asleep. But every time I start to drift off, Raina sneezes and wakes me up.

  After one especially loud sneeze, she blows her nose. It’s so cool when humans do that. I wish I could blow my nose, but I don’t know how.

  “How much farther is it to Springtown?” Raina asks.

  My head pops up. Springtown? Is that where we’re going?

  “A couple of hours,” Uncle Marty says. “You can take a nap if you’d like.”

  I don’t know how long a couple of hours is, but I know I won’t be taking any nap. Kayla and Dad went to Springtown! Maybe Uncle Marty really is taking my old family’s stuff to them!

  4

  Rest Stop

  We’ve been driving a long time. We’ve been driving so long that it’s starting to get light outside. Is it morning now? It could be. I’m hungry. I need to stretch my legs. And I really need to go outside.

  I wonder if we’re close to Springtown. We should be after this amount of time. But we’re still driving.

  Could Kayla and Dad still be in Springtown? Why didn’t they ever come home? And why didn’t they send for me? Is it because of the tornado?

  I’ve never been in a tornado, but I’ve seen the Wizard of Oz. So I know a lot about them. Here is what I know about tornados:

  They are big, scary clouds that spin ’round and ’round.

  They sound like trains.

  They can pick up a house, turn it around a few times, and put it down someplace else.

  In the Wizard of Oz, the dog, Toto, was the hero. He moved the curtain when his human was talking to that wizard. If he hadn’t done that, his human would never have gotten home.

  I want to be a hero like Toto. I want to go to Springtown, find my family, and help them get back home.

  It feels like the van is slowing down now. Are we here? Are we finally here? I wish I could see out the window.

  “Ready for a rest stop?” Uncle Marty asks.

  Rest stop? What’s a rest stop?

  “Y-y-ah-choo!” Raina says. Then she adds: “Yes. I’d also like to get some allergy medicine. I think I have some in that bag I tossed in the back.”

  The van rolls to a stop, and Uncle Marty turns off the engine.

  “Can you reach your bag from here?” Uncle Marty asks.

  “No. I’ll need to get it from the back,” Raina replies.

  I hear keys jingling. The front doors open and close. Then I hear the latch turn on the back door. As the back door opens, sunlight pours into the back of the van.

  I squeeze myself even farther under the chair. As far as I can possibly squeeze. I close my eyes. Please don’t notice me, I say inside my head. Please, please, please don’t notice me!

  I feel boxes and furniture shifting around behind me.

  “Got it,” Raina says. The back door closes, but does not latch.

  I hear Uncle Marty and Raina walking away from the van. I wiggle my way out from under that chair and climb up on top of it. Now I can see out the side window.

  It looks like a rest stop is a place with lots of grass and trees. I see cars, trucks and even a bus parked beside us.

  There’s a small building straight ahead. I watch as Uncle Marty goes in one side of the building and Raina goes in the other side.

  I have a feeling we’re going to be here for a while. Since the back door didn’t latch, I wonder if I can get out and stretch my legs for a few minutes.

 
I climb over the boxes and furniture and push against the back door. It opens faster than I expect it to. But I land on my feet on the ground below.

  Freedom!

  First things first. I need to find a tree or the perfect swatch of grass. Sniff ... sniff ... sniff ... a lot of dogs have been here before me. I don’t like to go in exactly the same spot everyone else goes.

  But I also don’t like to go in a spot where nobody else has gone before, either.

  Sniff ... sniff ... sniff ... ah, here we go. The perfect spot! I lift my leg and relieve myself.

  I wonder if there are any dogs in any of those other cars or trucks? If there are, maybe they can tell me how close we are to Springtown.

  I go check out the vehicles. The little car that only has one door on each side smells like Dog. Poodle, to be exact. But I don’t see any poodle around.

  A rusty truck in the next row smells like German shepherd. German shepherds usually know what’s going on. If this German shepherd was around, he could probably tell me exactly how far Springtown is. But I don’t see any German shepherd, either.

  I’m about to go sniff the bus when I notice the back lights on Uncle Marty’s trailer blink on. The back of the van is closed up and the van and trailer are moving forward.

  Uh-oh. Uncle Marty and Raina are leaving without me.

  5

  Don’t Be Afraid to Ask for Help

  I don’t think. I just RUN!

  I run as fast as I can along the side of the highway. But Uncle Marty is getting farther and farther ahead of me.

  A car pulls up next to me, and a lady sticks her head out the front window. “Hey, little doggy,” she says as the car rolls along beside me. “You shouldn’t be out here by yourself.”

  There’s a man driving the car and a Jack Russell terrier in the backseat.

  “Are you running away from someone or are you trying to catch someone?” the terrier asks me.

  “Trying ... to catch ... someone,” I pant. I’ve been running so hard I can hardly breathe. “That van ... with the trailer ... up there.”

  The car pulls ahead of me and stops. The lady gets out. “Come here, little doggy.” She pats her thighs. “I’ll help you find your owner.”

  I run right on past her. I don’t take rides from strangers. Even if they’re with a dog.

  “Have you tried the Network?” the terrier calls to me.

  The Network is great if you live in a town. If you need help or you just need to get a message to another dog, all you have to do is say so. Any dog that can hear you will pass your message on to dogs who can hear them but can’t hear you.

  I don’t think the Network is very useful out here, so I just keep running. Who, besides this Jack Russell terrier, would hear me? And even if someone else did hear me, what could they do? I’ve never met a dog who was strong enough to stop a moving van.

  But the terrier puts out a call over the Network anyway.

  “HEY!” he shouts at the top of his lungs. “DOES ANYONE SEE THAT VAN WITH THE TRAILER UP AHEAD ON THE HIGHWAY? I’VE GOT A GOLDEN RETRIEVER HERE WHO REALLY NEEDS TO CATCH THAT VAN!”

  “Stop barking, Poochie,” the Jack Russell terrier’s human says. “We’re trying to help this other dog.”

  I keep running. Just when I think I can’t run anymore, I see the lights on the back of Uncle Marty’s trailer come on again. The van and trailer swerve to the side of the road and then skid to a stop.

  A car ahead of Uncle Marty stops on the other side of the road. There is a duffel bag sitting on the pavement. Right where Uncle Marty would have hit it if he hadn’t swerved out of the way.

  The people from the car get out and run back to get the duffel bag.

  Now’s my chance. I pour on the speed.

  Maybe I can catch the van before it pulls back onto the highway. I run and I run and I run. But just before I reach the trailer, the van starts moving again.

  No!

  I can’t let them get away. I don’t know what else to do except ... close my eyes and JUMP!

  I don’t know if I’ve jumped far enough until my front paws come down hard on Dad’s footstool and my back paws come down on the edge of the trailer.

  Yes! I am IN THE TRAILER. The wind blows my ears up off my head.

  We drive past the stopped car, and I see a Rottweiler in the open back window. He nods at me. He must be the one who pushed that duffel bag out the window.

  “Thanks!” I wave to him with my tail.

  “No problem,” he says. “Don’t be afraid to ask for help, Buddy.”

  How did he know my name?

  There’s another car coming up fast behind us. It’s the car with the Jack Russell terrier. I watch as the driver pulls up even with the van and drives beside it. The lady who tried to get me to go with them waves at Uncle Marty then points at me.

  Oh no!

  The last thing I need is for Uncle Marty to see me back here. I quickly dive under Dad’s footstool. It’s a tight fit, and I can’t quite squeeze my whole body under there. But at least I’m low enough that if Uncle Marty or Raina turns around they won’t see me.

  Mmm. The footstool smells just like Dad. Coffee and newspapers.

  Next to the footstool is Mom’s living room couch, which I was never allowed on. There are two chairs on top of the couch and ... sniff, sniff ... the mattress from Kayla’s bed is wedged between the back of the couch and the side of the trailer. It smells like books and Kayla’s blanket and everything Kayla!

  My stomach growls. There’s all this furniture in the trailer, but no food. And it’s way past breakfast time.

  I wonder if Connor and Mom know that I’m gone? Probably. I had hoped to be home before they woke up.

  I see a picture inside my head of Connor and Mom. They are sitting at the kitchen table, and there are plates of bacon and eggs in front of them. I LOVE bacon and eggs. They’re my favorite foods!

  But Connor and Mom are not eating their bacon and eggs because they are missing me so much.

  I miss them, too.

  I wish I could tell them that I’ll be back. As soon as I find Kayla and Dad, I’ll be back.

  But what if Kayla and Dad need me as much as Connor and Mom do?

  I never thought about that. What will I do then?

  6

  HELP!!!

  The van is moving slower. But it’s still moving. We must have gotten off the highway. Maybe now we’re close to Springtown.

  I want to crawl out from under this footstool and see where we are. But I probably shouldn’t. I don’t want Uncle Marty to turn around and see me.

  Sniff ... sniff ...

  I smell cornfields. And bean fields. But I also smell gasoline and big trucks and coffee and donuts. I LOVE donuts. They’re my favorite food!

  We drive past the donuts and the van slows even more. Finally it stops.

  Are we there? (Wherever we’re going?)

  It’s really, really hard to stay where I am. But I know I have to. At least until I know for sure where we are.

  “Over here,” Uncle Marty says. “Number fifteen.”

  Number fifteen? What’s that? A house number? Is that where Grandma lives?

  Sniff ... sniff ... I don’t remember what Grandma smells like. It’s been a long time since I’ve smelled her. But I smell other people in the air. People I don’t know.

  Unfortunately, none of them is Kayla or Dad.

  I hear a garage door go up.

  “Wow! This is big,” Raina says.

  What’s big?

  “Big enough, anyway,” Uncle Marty says. “Let’s get started.”

  I hear something unlatch on the trailer, and then it feels like someone has stepped up into it. Two someones, actually.

  I squish myself as far under the footstool as I possibly can. The ropes that were holding all the boxes and furniture down come loose around me.

  “Be careful,” Uncle Marty says. “That’s a heavy one.”

  “I’ve got it,” Raina says.

/>   I feel the weight of the trailer shift as Uncle Marty and Raina step back to the ground. I hear their footsteps moving away.

  Slowly, I creep out from under the footstool and poke my head up above the side of the trailer.

  We aren’t at a house at all. We’re at a long building that’s full of garages! The garage right next to the trailer is standing wide open. Some of Kayla, Dad, and Mom’s furniture is already in there.

  I watch as Uncle Marty and Raina carry boxes to the back of the garage.

  Quick, while Uncle Marty and Raina aren’t looking, I hop onto the footstool, put my front paws on the edge of the trailer, and leap to the ground.

  I run around to the other side of the trailer and lie down. From there, I have a perfect view of Uncle Marty and Raina. I watch their feet as they move back and forth from the trailer to the garage. They’re taking everything off the trailer and putting it in the garage.

  I don’t get it! Why are they putting all of my old people’s stuff in here?

  Mom wouldn’t like this. She wouldn’t like it at all. She’d worry about her furniture getting dirty.

  When Uncle Marty and Raina finish taking things off the trailer, they move to the van. While they are inside the van, I hurry into the garage.

  It’s pretty dark in here after being outside. I sniff along the back wall behind the couch. There’s mouse poop under the couch. Mom would really not be happy about that.

  Does Mom know what Uncle Marty and Raina are doing? Is there any way to warn her?

  If there is, I don’t know how to do it. I don’t know if the Network reaches to the National Guard. And even if it did, would a dog I don’t know be able to make Mom understand such a complicated message? Mom only understands simple Dog phrases like: You forgot to feed me, I need fresh water in my bowl, would you like to play ball, and I need to go outside.

  Still, it might be worth a try. Once I’m back home.

  Right now I need a plan. A plan for what I’m going to do next.

  I found out where Uncle Marty and Raina were going with my old people’s stuff. But it wasn’t to my old people. I’m not any closer to finding them than I was before I left Four Lakes. So what should I do now?