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.“You watch,” said the officer in the driver’s seat, “they’re just doing this so that we bring him into the station and they get the reward.”“Typical,” said the other.“But we can play at that game.We’ll just wait until we get a location on old man Avery.We’ll deliver the kid to the Man himself.” They turned up the radio and listened closely, though it was difficult as the static became worse and worse with each passing second.Anders and Jack exchanged glances.“This is ridiculous,” the first officer said.The second officer pointed to a squad car parked in front of a house.“Look.There’s Johnson and Clarke.We’ll talk to them.”“But they’ll want a cut.I don’t want to divide it four ways.”“Better four ways than nothing.And that’s what we’ll get if the jerks from the station get their hands on the kid.You think they’ll give us our due?”He slid the squad car to a halt and the two officers got out.Anders turned to Jack.“The Portsmouth,” he hissed.“Do you have it?”“What?” Jack asked.“The stone.That Frankie gave you.”“But how did you—”Anders shook his head impatiently.“Never mind that part.Do you know how to use it?”Jack pulled the stone out of his pocket.It vibrated and heated in his hand, and the blue veins stood bright and livid against the pearly surface.“No,” he said at last.“It made, I don’t know, a window or something.Frankie did it so we could hear a meeting.” Though he knew the words were true, Jack was horrified at how unlikely they sounded.And how his voice sounded so very much like someone caught in a lie.“It opens a door,” Anders said slowly.“Press it against a wall and tell it where you want to go, or what you want to see.”Jack shook his head.“You do it.”“I can’t,” Anders said.“Not here anyway.You’re going to have to pull me in after you.Frankie and I’ve tried it all over the place.Don’t tell Wendy.” Anders paled at the thought.“She doesn’t know.And she’d kill me if she did.Anyway, Frankie could only make it work when he was standing right on an eruption point.I could stand a little ways off, but not very far.I’m pretty sure you can use it anywhere.”“What do you mean, I can use it anywhere? Why would I be different from you? And anyway, Frankie did it.He opened the window when we were outside Mr.Avery’s house.” Jack shuddered.The sound of Mr.Avery’s voice saying out of the picture still rang in his ears.“Are you sure about that?”And Jack thought for a moment.Frankie pressed Jack’s hand to the wall, but it was Jack, not Frankie, who held the stone, and it was Jack, not Frankie, who thought, What’s going on in there that he wants me to see? Had Jack made the Portsmouth work without realizing?“But”—Jack’s mouth had gone quite dry—“why can’t you guys use it? Why me?”Anders shook his head.“Oh, Jack,” he said softly.“Haven’t you guessed? Don’t you see that—oh! quick! They’re coming.Open a door, Jack.”“But I don’t know how.”Anders pressed Jack’s hand against the back of the seat.“You do know how, even if you don’t realize it.Tell it where you want to go.Concentrate.”“Hey!” the taller officer shouted.“What are you two kids doing? Hey! Knock that off!”“Now, Jack!”Jack shook his head.There was no way.I just want to see my mom, he thought desperately.I just want to be home.He shut his eyes.And a door appeared.It opened into the darkness.Jack and Anders tumbled inside.Chapter Thirty-twoThe Search PartyIT TOOK FOUR HOURS FOR THE POLICE TO ARRIVE.IN THE meantime, Mr.and Mrs.Schumacher searched the entire house and the surrounding area while they waited for the police.At dawn, Mr.Schumacher went to the station, but only found a single harassed-looking dispatcher, who told him that the entire force was out on a manhunt and that he needed to sit tight until they could spare an officer to take down the report.“Fill out the missing persons form and I’ll call it in,” she said kindly.Mr.Schumacher sat holding the pen over the paper for a full ten minutes, trying desperately to remember Wendy’s name.Finally, when the name returned to him in a flash, he filled out the form as best he could (How tall was she again? How much did she weigh? Did he know those things before?) and left the station in tears, repeating her name again and again and again.Wendy, Wendy, Wendy.The entire family turned her name into a mantra.Wendy, Wendy, Wendy.Until at last the officers arrived.Frankie couldn’t help himself.He had forgotten about his carefully planned sighs and dreamy smiles, he had forgotten to keep his face empty except for the scars.He sat at the table next to his mom and dad as two police officers wrote down notes regarding the disappearance of Wendy.It was a waste of time, Frankie knew, and he couldn’t stand it anymore.“Have you noticed any changes in her behavior patterns in recent days, Mr.and Mrs.Schumacher? Is it out of the question that she may have run away?”“No,” Mrs.Schumacher said, balancing her forehead against the heel of one hand and closing her eyes tightly.She had her other arm looped around Frankie’s middle, as though he might suddenly launch upward and fly away.“Not at all.I mean, she got into a fight not too long ago with that Avery boy.”“That’s nothing new,” grunted the other officer.Frankie’s father pushed his chair away from the table with a loud squeak that made everyone wince.“I can’t just sit here and wait.We’ve done this before.”“Sit,” Mrs.Schumacher commanded, but he was already opening the drawer next to the refrigerator, rattling around the contents until he produced a set of keys.“With any luck,” he said, grabbing his seed cap off the hook, “she’s wandering the streets looking for trouble.” Mrs.Schumacher slammed the palm of her hand on the kitchen table, making the dishes rattle, but he was already opening the door.“I’m gonna bank on luck.”The officers didn’t get up.The first officer picked up his mug and brought it to his mouth.“It’s best to leave this to the professionals, Jed.You’ll only muck things up.”“Seems to me, you told me that once before,” Mr.Schumacher said with a hollow laugh.Frankie looked directly at his father, something that he rarely did.His father had very large brown eyes that were often darkened with exhaustion or regret or even sorrow.Very slowly, Jed Schumacher adjusted the back of the seed cap and fitted it over his balding head.His eyes were on the knot of scars.“Franklin James,” he said, “you coming?”“He most certainly is not,” Mrs.Schumacher said, but Frankie was already on his feet and walking quickly to the door.His father shrugged.“I’ll feel better not to have him out of my sight.Call the Jorgensons and the Rustads and—and—who else? Jan Hoveland.Tell them I’ll pick them up and we’ll go looking.And tell Clive Fitzpatrick too.I tried their phone already, so you’ll have to go over there.He’s a weird old coot, but he found Frankie, and I never forgot it.”“Frankie.Franklin James.You turn yourself right around, young man,” Frankie heard his mother say, but his father closed the door behind them, and she didn’t open it again.At the second stop sign, Frankie saw Lancelot
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