Josephâs text messages. Joseph had a feeling it was the latter.
The secretary looked up from the black notebook. âHe didnât sign out, but I called the security guard who said he drove off campus about ten minutes ago.â
Joseph hit the glass door at a run and slammed himself into the car. Catelyn gave him a questioning look and Joseph answered it, âHe left campus.â
âThis isnât good.â
Grimly, he told, âIâm aware of that. Letâs catch up to them before anyone else spots them.â Thinking fast, he told her, âSeems to me, every deaf kid I know has a phone simply for text messaging purposes, a Sidekick, a BlackBerry, whatever. Can we track his phone?â
âDo you have his number?â
âNo.â Joseph shook his head, then smiled and said, âNo, but Iâve got Alonsoâs. If weâre right and theyâre together, we can find them that way.â
Pulling out her cell, she said, âGive me the number.â
He did and she put the request in to the person on the other end. âCall me when youâve got it. Thanks.â Hanging up she looked at him. âI also put out a Be on the Lookout, a BOLO, for Dylanâs car and Alonsoâs. Both cars are missing from the student lot. If theyâre in either one, they wonât get far. The security guard said both boys left at approximately the same time. I have a feeling Dylanâs going to ditch his car and hook up with Alonso.â
Joseph said, âI would say thatâs pretty good reasoning. I can head back to my parentsâ house, but Iâm thinking they probably wouldnât go there.â
âDoes Alonso have a favorite hangout? Is there a place the deaf kids just go to hang out?â
âThe local pizza place over on Union Street or the arcade down on Church. Letâs check the pizza place first.â
âWe also need to get in touch with Dylanâs parents and let them know they need to contact us if he shows up at home.â
Joseph wheeled the car toward the pizza place. Withinminutes, they were driving through the parking lot. âI donât see Alonsoâs or Dylanâs car.â
Catelyn sighed in disgust and shook her phone. âHow long does it take to track a cell number?â
âIf theyâre having to go through the cell carrier, itâll take a little bit. Theyâre not at the arcade. Iâm going to head toward the house.â
âThat seems like the last place theyâd go.â
âDo you have any better ideas?â
She heaved a sigh. âHeâs your brother.â
âRight.â
Â
Catelyn leaned back and shut her eyes against the headache that was starting. Her phone buzzed, intruding on her brief moment of peace.
âHello?â
âCatelyn, your target is somewhere on Sugarleaf Street. Umâ¦704, to be specific.â
âThank, Bri.â
She hung up. âTheyâre at your parentsâ house. Or at least thatâs where Alonsoâs phone tracked to.â
Joseph let a smug look briefly cross his face. She resisted the urge to punch him, decided to let him revel in his cleverness and sat back to finish the short ride while her adrenaline pumped at the thought of arresting Dylan.
Five minutes later, Joseph pulled into the driveway of his childhood home. They hopped out and made their way up the front porch and into the house. His mother greeted them, signing her welcome. âJoseph, what brings you here in the middle of the day? And Catelynâ¦â Surprise lifted her brows. âHello, darling.â
âHi, Mrs. Santino.â
Concerned flickered across her smooth, chubby face as she looked at Joseph. âWhat is it, son?â
âIs Alonso here, Mama?â
She twisted her ever present apron between her hands, then dropped it to sign, âNo, he didnât come in the house. At least I didnât feel his usual thumping
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