The Vanishing Game Read online

  “Research,” I hissed back. “We need to go on this thing again. And I want to keep an eye on Luke.”

  Joe winced, still watching Daisy. “For me or for the case?” he asked.

  “Both,” I answered honestly. “Hey—what were you two talking about when I came back? It seemed a little tense for a minute.”

  Joe frowned, then seemed to remember. “Oh, I asked her about Cal,” he whispered. Daisy had now stepped back from the ride operator, who was watching G-Force wind down. “Get this—her dad told her to stay away from him.”

  I raised an eyebrow. “Hector? But he had only glowing things to say about Cal the other morning.”

  Joe nodded. “I know; it’s weird, right? I tried to press her for details, but all she would say was that it was awkward and she didn’t totally understand it.”

  A stream of people exited the ride, all chatting excitedly and whooping. One guy turned in my direction and randomly gave me the “Rock on!” sign.

  “Glad you liked it,” I said, nodding.

  Daisy came over and touched Joe’s arm. “Come on, guys,” she said. “We’re skipping the line. Let’s hurry so no one notices.”

  Cal was standing by the exit gate of G-Force, and he nodded and quickly waved us in. Then he took us around to the front of the line and gestured to the open door. Joe and I definitely knew the drill by now, so we all rushed in and chose seats in a row at the far side of the circle.

  As we all buckled in, I saw Joe reach over and touch Daisy’s shoulder.

  “Hey,” he whispered. “I’m sorry we didn’t tell you. I didn’t want to upset you, and it turned out to be nothing.”

  Daisy gave him a long look before her expression warmed a bit. “Okay,” she whispered. “It’s just, you’re doing this as a favor to me. I thought you would keep me posted.”

  Joe nodded. “I will from now on. Okay?”

  Other riders were streaming in through the door now, and Daisy’s answer was lost in the noise from the crowd. While the new riders got settled, I carefully pulled my smart-phone out of my jeans pocket and lifted it to look at its face.

  That afternoon, in anticipation of riding G-Force again, I’d downloaded a “night vision” app and installed it. I wasn’t sure how it would work with all the flashing lights and projections, but I figured it was worth a shot.

  I got it set up and started recording as Cal strapped in the last rider and headed out the door.

  “Enjoy, kids,” he called behind him.

  In the seconds before the ride started up, I glanced at my brother. He looked like he was steeling himself. Then I caught a glance at Luke, two seats away on the other side of Daisy. He was staring forward, with a determined expression, like he was trying to psych himself up.

  Was I the only one looking forward to this?

  The opening chords of “Beautiful” started up, and we were plunged into darkness. Several people screamed, clearly having their first G-Force experience. I struggled to keep my smartphone up and recording the action, but it was hard. The music, the lights, and the images took over. Soon I was totally disoriented, lost in the experience.

  After a few minutes the images slowed and the ride began circling again, losing speed. The song finished up. Soon the circle of seats slid to a stop. Gradually, the purple lights dimmed on.

  One of the newbies started cheering, and others soon joined in. I checked my hand—yep, I was still clutching my smartphone, camera side out. I reached up and clicked off the recording. Maybe this would give us some important information about how G-Force ran.

  Suddenly I heard Daisy screaming.

  “Oh my God! Oh my God! He was right here!”

  I turned around. Joe was holding her hand, trying to comfort her, as they both leaned over . . .

  An empty seat, with the restraints cut.

  Luke was gone.

  THE DEATH RIDE STRIKES AGAIN

  8

  JOE

  NO, I TOLD YOU. I didn’t hear anything,” Daisy was telling Chief Nelson Olaf for the third time. “The ride was way too loud. The first time I noticed anything was wrong was when the ride was over—I looked over and his seat was empty.”

  I squeezed her hand. We were sitting in hard plastic chairs in Hector’s office. After Luke’s disappearance, it had taken the cops only minutes to show up.

  Almost like they’d been worried about something like this.

  Chief Olaf nodded, tapping the end of his pen to his lips.

  “Did they find anything in the ride?” I broke in. “Any trace of a struggle? Did they fingerprint yet?”

  Olaf frowned at me and wagged his pen in my direction. “Pipe down, Hardy.”

  I wondered if he could tell Frank and me apart, or whether we mingled in his mind into one big distasteful blob labeled “Hardy.” Tip #1 for Unlicensed Investigators: Law enforcement will not like you. You think you’re trying to do them a favor; they think you’re trying to make them look bad.

  Olaf turned back to Daisy. “As I was saying before I was so rudely interrupted. Was Luke having any problems at home that you know of?”

  I groaned. I couldn’t help it. Olaf had asked Daisy this five times—each time, the answer was no. I was getting the uncomfortable feeling that in the absence of a real explanation, Olaf was going to paint a “the kid was troubled and ran away somehow” explanation on this case.

  Which would not serve Luke any better than it was serving poor Kelly.

  Daisy sighed loudly. “No,” she said for the fifth time.

  Olaf looked at me, his annoyed expression implying that I’d somehow put her up to that answer. He slapped his pen down onto the table and started rifling through his notebook. “I’ll need you to step out so I can question the lady alone, Hardy,” he said.

  I tried not to roll my eyes. Like not having me around would make Daisy answer his questions any differently. And the cops were wasting time in here, asking the same questions over and over again when they could be out looking for clues.

  But I had no legal right to stay; I knew that. I stood and shot Daisy a supportive glance. “See you soon,” I said, and walked out of the office.

  Downstairs, Frank and Hector were standing in the lobby, shuffling around restlessly like they couldn’t relax enough to sit still. The door to another room was closed, and I could hear muffled voices within.

  “Who’s in there?” I asked, jabbing a thumb at the second office.

  Hector looked up. “An officer is questioning Cal,” he replied, then quickly averted his eyes. As I was about to turn to my brother, I caught Hector looking back at the closed door, a strange look in his eyes. Was it concern? Fear?

  I remembered what Daisy had told me about Cal and nudged Frank.

  “Hey, Hector,” I said, “is there anywhere we can speak privately?”

  Hector looked at me, then across the room to the various security guards, witnesses, and cops who were hanging around. The Piperato Brothers were draped across a few plastic chairs beneath a window, apparently snoozing while they awaited their turn to be questioned. Hector nodded and gestured to the front door. “Let’s go outside. I could use some fresh air.”

  He led the way out the door, and Frank and I followed. Outside, it was eerily quiet; all the rides and games had been turned off when the park was closed hours ago, and most of the employees—any of them not directly involved with G-Force—had been sent home. Some of the lights on the rides still blinked silently.

  There is nothing creepier than an abandoned amusement park.

  Hector sighed and rubbed his eyes. It was getting late, well past midnight. But I could tell that Hector’s weariness ran much deeper than the late hour. He looked like a man who literally didn’t know what to do anymore. I couldn’t imagine how it must feel to gamble your whole family’s future on a new ride and have this happen.

  Hector gestured for us to follow him down the midway, where, when the park was open, hawkers would beckon guests to try their luck on shooting games, da
rts, and roll-the-ball horse-race games. Now the booths were dark, and every so often I caught the white of a fake horse’s or clown’s eye glowing from within.

  “I wanted to ask you about Cal,” I said finally, when we were a good distance from the offices.

  Hector looked surprised. “Cal? What do you want to know?”

  I glanced at Frank, who was watching eagerly. “Do you trust him?” I asked.

  Hector looked surprised, but deep in his eyes, I saw something else—recognition. He knew we were onto something. “Do I trust Cal? Well, I hired him, didn’t I? Would I hire someone I didn’t trust?”

  Frank cocked an eyebrow. “Would you?” he asked. “Or maybe the better question is—why would you?”

  Hector looked from my brother to me. “I don’t understand,” he said.

  I sighed. “I noticed that Daisy was a little strange with him the other day,” I explained. “When I asked her about it, she said you told her to stay away from him. That doesn’t sound like something you’d say about a person you trust.”

  Hector’s eyes widened, then he looked down at the ground. When he looked back up, he was wearing an expression of forced calm. “It’s not a big deal,” he said, with a little shrug. “I guess I’m overprotective of my little girl. At least, that’s what she tells me!”

  He laughed, but when neither Frank nor I smiled back, he stopped abruptly.

  “Why would you need to protect her from Cal?” Frank asked quietly.

  Hector looked down. “It’s not a big deal. Just a dad’s paranoia.”

  I was getting frustrated. “About what?” I asked.

  Hector sighed and looked up at me. “Cal had a rough childhood. He has—well—he has a bit of a rap sheet.”

  “What’s on it?” asked Frank. I was wondering too. There’s a big difference between a history of misdemeanors or even burglaries and a history of violent crime. The former wouldn’t make Cal all that scary. The latter . . . well . . .

  But why would Hector hire a guy with a history of violent crime?

  “It’s all older stuff,” Hector said. “Burglaries mostly, some stolen cars.”

  “How long ago are we talking?” I asked.

  Hector shrugged. “At least ten years.”

  Now I was really feeling confused. “So why would you tell Daisy to avoid him? It seems like he’s gotten his life back together.”

  Hector pressed his lips together. “Well,” he said after a moment, “there was this little something that happened on his last job.”

  I raised my eyebrows beseechingly. What?

  Hector went on. “He, well, he was fired from working at the big Five Pennants park for this little incident with a coworker.” He shrugged again. “She said he threatened her when she made a joke about his missing teeth. Flew off the handle, told her she had no idea what kind of life he’d led and he’d show her hard times. . . .”

  I looked at Frank. Yikes!

  “And this coworker . . . was she another adult?”

  Hector frowned. “No,” he said. “She was a teenager.”

  “Did he actually attack her?” I asked.

  Hector shook his head. “Other coworkers broke it up,” he said. “One big guy led him away and calmed him down. Cal says it was nothing—he never would have hurt her. He was just angry, he says. He just needed to yell.”

  I looked at Frank. People who just need to yell usually don’t make specific threats. People who make specific threats usually mean their target harm—even if only in the moment.

  I remembered what Jamie had told us about Cal leaving his post when Kelly went missing. Was it possible she was telling the truth? Did Cal, in fact, have a dark side?

  “Can you clear something up for me?” Frank asked, tilting his head as he looked at Hector. “I’m confused. Why would you hire a guy you don’t trust around your daughter . . . to work in an amusement park?”

  Good point. I examined Hector’s face. He began sputtering, waving his hands like we were making too big a deal out of this.

  “It’s not that I don’t trust him,” he said, shaking his head like that was a crazy interpretation. “I never said that. I just . . . it’s not just Cal, really. Daisy can be a firecracker. You probably know that as well as anybody. . . .”

  He looked at me and laughed feebly. I didn’t laugh back. Daisy had her moments, sure, but if Hector was implying that she might set off an otherwise harmless man into harming her somehow, I couldn’t get behind that.

  Hector shook his head. “Forget what I said earlier. Of course I trust Cal. Everyone deserves a second chance, and I’m glad I was able to give him that. Maybe Daisy misinterpreted what I said. I don’t remember what I told her, exactly. Anyway . . .”

  He looked around, as if desperately looking for a way out of this conversation.

  As fate would have it, an exit door was approaching—in the form of Chief Olaf.

  The chief walked toward us and sighed deeply. “I think we’ve got what we need. Hector, you can close up the park. Let’s all go home and get some sleep.”

  “Did you find any leads?” Frank asked eagerly. “Any evidence of Luke in the park, after he rode G-Force?”

  Chief Olaf turned to him and narrowed his eyes. “That’s confidential information,” he said, “and to be honest, I’m still not entirely clear on what you two boys have been doing hanging around Funspot so often. It seems you’ve spent quite a bit of time here since the first disappearance, according to witnesses.”

  Hector coughed loudly, then laughed. “Joe here has been seeing my daughter Daisy.” He put his arm around my shoulders and smiled. “He seems like a nice young man, but I don’t know why they need to spend so much time together! They’re so young! But who can stand in the way of young love, eh?”

  The chief looked skeptically from Hector to me, but then smiled. “My daughter’s only eight, so I wouldn’t know yet,” he said. “I’ll take your word for it, Hector. I will say that there are certainly much worse boys in this town that your daughter could choose to spend her time with.”

  Hector smiled again. “Yes, these are good boys.” He pulled his arm away and stepped back. “Shall we get our things and go, boys? I’m sure we’re all tired.”

  I nodded. “Yeah, it’s pretty late.”

  Chief Olaf led the way back to the administration building, and Hector, Frank, and I fell into step behind him.

  “I don’t think I’m going to get much sleep tonight,” Frank muttered, casting a glance back in the direction of G-Force.

  “Me neither,” Hector said gravely.

  I turned his words over and over in my mind as we said our good-byes, and then took the long walk back to our car.

  Was Hector going to have trouble sleeping because two kids were still missing?

  Or was he going to have trouble sleeping because deep down, he knew who’d taken them?

  SECRETS

  9

  FRANK

  IT HAD BEEN A LONG, long night, but sleep was not in my forecast when we got home. Instead I pulled out my smartphone and held it up to Joe.

  “Secret weapon,” I said, walking into my room and hooking it up to my computer.

  Joe stumbled after me, looking very sleepy. “What do you mean?”

  I woke up my computer and then clicked on a video-viewing program that would allow us to see the footage on the monitor. “Remember that night-vision app I downloaded? I used it to film our G-Force ride tonight.”

  Joe raised an eyebrow, suddenly looking more alert. “You filmed the ride where Luke disappeared?”

  I nodded. “I tried to, anyway. I don’t know how sharp the video will be—it was hard to hold the phone straight with the ride in motion. But it’s worth a shot.”

  A ding sounded to tell us that the video had uploaded to the computer, and I double-clicked to start it.

  The footage started out clear, with the other riders visible, lined up across from me in their seats. Once the ride started, though, it got pretty bl
urry and shaky. I could make out figures moving through the frame, carried by the ride, but just like being on G-Force, it was hard to tell exactly what I was looking at or what was moving where.

  Joe groaned. “This is making me queasy.”

  I tried to stay focused on the figures onscreen, looking for any sudden, weird movements that might be related to Luke’s disappearance. So far I didn’t see anything. Then all of a sudden, the motion slowed and the figures slowly circled back into place.

  Soon a full row of seats slowed to a halt across from the camera.

  The lights came up, and the video ended.

  “I got nothing,” Joe said, sounding sleepy again.

  I shrugged. “Maybe there’s nothing to get,” I said. “This isn’t exactly a professional-quality video.”

  Joe yawned. “It was a good idea to take it, though. Listen, I need to get some shut-eye.”

  I nodded, my eyes never leaving the screen. “Go to bed, Joe. I’ll see you in the morning.”

  My brother lingered behind me. “You’re staying up?” he asked.

  I shook my head. “Not for long. I just want to watch this a couple more times . . . see if anything jumps out at me.”

  “Okay.” Joe’s footsteps slowly headed out the door. “Wake me if you notice anything.”

  “I will.” Joe shut my bedroom door and headed down the hall to his room.

  The house was nearly silent. I cued the video to play again . . . then again. Then one more time. Each time, as the riders spun to a stop, I told myself I would only watch it once more. I needed sleep, after all. But somehow I couldn’t tear my eyes away. I felt like this video had something to tell me—something I just couldn’t make out yet.

  I finally shut my eyes, but was still restless. I know I must have fallen asleep, because I had a terrifying dream: Someone had pushed me off the Funspot Ferris wheel and I was hanging on to Joe for dear life! I woke up soaked in sweat.

  Soon pale light was shining through my windows, and I could hear the calls of birds waking up to search for food. In an hour or so Joe would be up. I’d given up my chance of getting any real sleep that night.