chaos.
“You can drive up the alley,” Bonnie said, “and drop me off by our back gate.”
“I had planned to come in,” Mrs. Tagg said, “but it’s clear your mother doesn’t need any more visitors.”
Bonnie and her mom, along with Officer Calvin, were interviewed by reporters from two newspapers and three television stations. Bonnie found it hard to talk about Matt and Pookie without crying. It was especially difficult when a reporter asked, “Do you think your brother ran away?”
“No!” Bonnie said.
“Maybe he ran off and took the dog with him,” the reporter said. “The largest percentage of missing kids are runaways.”
Bonnie wanted to scream, “He didn’t run away! Quit saying that!” But she knew media help was important, so she tried hard to be pleasant. “He had no reason to run away,” Bonnie said. “Matt was happy at home.”
“Matt was abducted from his school,” Mrs. Sholter said. “Less than fifteen minutes elapsed between when his teacher saw him and when Bonnie reported him missing.”
“A police dog picked up Matt’s scent in the doorway of the school,” Officer Calvin said, “and followed it across the playground to the street. It stopped there, indicating Matt got in a vehicle at that point.”
This silenced the reporter with the runaway theory, but it gave Bonnie chills to think of Matt crossing the playground and climbing into a car. She found it hard to believe he would have done such a thing after Mom had warned both of them repeatedly not to ever go anywhere with someone they didn’t know. Yet that must be what he had done.
When all the reporters and photographers finally left, Bonnie felt as if she’d run a twenty-mile marathon. The phone rang often as the word spread among their friends. Each time, she answered quickly, hoping it might be Matt.
At eleven p.m. Bonnie and her mom sat together and watched themselves on the Channel Seven news.
Mr. Quinn and Mrs. Jules appeared briefly on the newscast. They said Matt was a good student; everyone liked him. Matt’s friend Stanley, looking scared, told how he and Matt had played on the monkey bars during recess.
The screen showed a highway reader board on Interstate 90, with Matt’s description in bright lights. The announcer explained the Amber Alert and urged viewers to call 911 if they thought they saw Matt.
The story moved to Jefferson School, where nearly a hundred volunteers still searched the neighborhoodfor any clues. One man, who said he didn’t know Matt, explained why he was there.
“I have a little boy myself,” he said, “and I know how I’d feel if somebody took him. I’m here because I want to help.”
Then the camera focused on Bonnie and her mom.
Bonnie felt as if she were viewing a movie, watching an actress who looked like her. The look-alike girl talked about her brother and her missing dog. She held up a picture of Pookie while her mom held one of Matt. Mrs. Sholter begged whoever had taken her son to return him unharmed.
“Please bring my dog home, too,” the TV Bonnie said, her voice ending in a high squeak as she fought back tears.
The camera zoomed in on the picture of Matt.
“Anyone with information about the missing boy or his dog is urged to call nine-one-one or local police.” A number flashed on the screen, followed by a commercial.
After her mom turned off the TV, Bonnie felt numb. She wanted this nightmare to be over.
The police had set up a special telephone system so any calls coming in to the Sholters’ number would be monitored by the police. “You may get a ransom demand,” Detective Morrison said.
“Ransom!” Mrs. Sholter waved her hand around the modest living room with its worn furniture. “Why would anyone think I can afford to pay a ransom?”
“People who abduct children aren’t the great brains of the world,” Detective Morrison said. “Clear thinking is not required in order to commit a crime.”
The night dragged on. A police car
“You can drive up the alley,” Bonnie said, “and drop me off by our back gate.”
“I had planned to come in,” Mrs. Tagg said, “but it’s clear your mother doesn’t need any more visitors.”
Bonnie and her mom, along with Officer Calvin, were interviewed by reporters from two newspapers and three television stations. Bonnie found it hard to talk about Matt and Pookie without crying. It was especially difficult when a reporter asked, “Do you think your brother ran away?”
“No!” Bonnie said.
“Maybe he ran off and took the dog with him,” the reporter said. “The largest percentage of missing kids are runaways.”
Bonnie wanted to scream, “He didn’t run away! Quit saying that!” But she knew media help was important, so she tried hard to be pleasant. “He had no reason to run away,” Bonnie said. “Matt was happy at home.”
“Matt was abducted from his school,” Mrs. Sholter said. “Less than fifteen minutes elapsed between when his teacher saw him and when Bonnie reported him missing.”
“A police dog picked up Matt’s scent in the doorway of the school,” Officer Calvin said, “and followed it across the playground to the street. It stopped there, indicating Matt got in a vehicle at that point.”
This silenced the reporter with the runaway theory, but it gave Bonnie chills to think of Matt crossing the playground and climbing into a car. She found it hard to believe he would have done such a thing after Mom had warned both of them repeatedly not to ever go anywhere with someone they didn’t know. Yet that must be what he had done.
When all the reporters and photographers finally left, Bonnie felt as if she’d run a twenty-mile marathon. The phone rang often as the word spread among their friends. Each time, she answered quickly, hoping it might be Matt.
At eleven p.m. Bonnie and her mom sat together and watched themselves on the Channel Seven news.
Mr. Quinn and Mrs. Jules appeared briefly on the newscast. They said Matt was a good student; everyone liked him. Matt’s friend Stanley, looking scared, told how he and Matt had played on the monkey bars during recess.
The screen showed a highway reader board on Interstate 90, with Matt’s description in bright lights. The announcer explained the Amber Alert and urged viewers to call 911 if they thought they saw Matt.
The story moved to Jefferson School, where nearly a hundred volunteers still searched the neighborhoodfor any clues. One man, who said he didn’t know Matt, explained why he was there.
“I have a little boy myself,” he said, “and I know how I’d feel if somebody took him. I’m here because I want to help.”
Then the camera focused on Bonnie and her mom.
Bonnie felt as if she were viewing a movie, watching an actress who looked like her. The look-alike girl talked about her brother and her missing dog. She held up a picture of Pookie while her mom held one of Matt. Mrs. Sholter begged whoever had taken her son to return him unharmed.
“Please bring my dog home, too,” the TV Bonnie said, her voice ending in a high squeak as she fought back tears.
The camera zoomed in on the picture of Matt.
“Anyone with information about the missing boy or his dog is urged to call nine-one-one or local police.” A number flashed on the screen, followed by a commercial.
After her mom turned off the TV, Bonnie felt numb. She wanted this nightmare to be over.
The police had set up a special telephone system so any calls coming in to the Sholters’ number would be monitored by the police. “You may get a ransom demand,” Detective Morrison said.
“Ransom!” Mrs. Sholter waved her hand around the modest living room with its worn furniture. “Why would anyone think I can afford to pay a ransom?”
“People who abduct children aren’t the great brains of the world,” Detective Morrison said. “Clear thinking is not required in order to commit a crime.”
The night dragged on. A police car
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