“That’s a good idea,” says Judd.
“Is it hard to believe I have a good idea?”
“Not if it’s about kicking a ball into a net. But I didn’t expect a good idea about investigating a crime.”
“Well,” says Clay. “I do watch TV.”
Judd almost smiles. He stands, walks to a kitchen cabinet, and pulls down a bottle of Canadian Club. He brings that and two small glasses to the table and eyeball-pours two ounces for Clay and two for himself.
Judd lifts his glass. Clay hesitates, but does the same. Judd reaches across the table and clinks Clay’s glass. “I don’t want to consider the possibility that Teddy’s behind his own kidnapping, but you’re right. I’ll dust for prints in the morning. Compare them to Teddy’s. Now drink up. We need something to quiet our brains so we can get some sleep. Big day ahead.”
Clay sips his whiskey.What the hell is happening here?he thinks.What in the bloody hell?
CHAPTER 17
Braedon wakes to his cell phone playing the Cranberries’ “When You’re Gone.” It’s Emily’s favorite song, so he made it her ringtone. It’s a FaceTime voice call, so he doesn’t have to flick on the light. He tests his voice, hoping it doesn’t sound like he just woke up, then takes the call.
“Hi, Emily. Aren’t you in Scotland?”
“Yeah,” says Emily. “Up early. What time is it there?”
Braedon looks at the clock on his phone. “Just after midnight.”
“Oh, no. Sorry. I get the earlier/later thing mixed up all the time. I thought it was afternoon there. You should go back to sleep.”
“I wasn’t sleeping,” lies Braedon, adjusting his pillow against his headboard so he can sit up. “Dad just had to go see my grandpa about something.”
“What?” says Emily.
“Don’t know. Probably something with my uncle Teddy. He still hasn’t come home.”
“I’m sorry. Is your grandad freaking out?”
“Not too bad. At least in front of me. But I can tell he’s worried.”
“Yeah,” says Emily. “He must be. I wonder if what happened to your uncle will ever be on one of those true crime podcasts. It sounds like a good story. I mean, it’s not good what happened, but it’s the kind of story they would do.”
“Yeah,” says Braedon. “Maybe. Hey, how’s Scotland?”
“Windy,” says Emily. “And kind of cold for summer. And kind of like Ireland except we have to use different money here. We’re in St. Andrews. There’s loads of golfers everywhere. Like St. Andrews was the patron saint of golfing. My da wants to get on some famous golf course, but my ma said no way. She didn’t go on a family vacation so he could take off and play all day by himself. They got in a big row about it and then my da went to have a pint by himself. My ma was going to switch flats while he was gone and not tell him where we went. You know, to teach him a lesson. But instead we had a late dinner and didn’t tell him where we went for that. I heard him come back to the flat at around four in the morning. My ma’s in sleeping with my sister, so I don’t know what’s going to happen when everyone wakes up.”
“Sounds like no one’s getting any sleep,” says Braedon. “Right after Dad left, I got a bunch of texts from my friend, Daniel. He’s got himself in a mess with some older boys.”
“What kind of mess?”
“They gave him a real nice mountain bike.”
“For free?” says Emily.
“Yeah,” says Braedon. “Well, kind of. Because they expect something in return. Like a favor. But they didn’t say what when they gave it to him. Then they saw him tonight watching a Little League game.”
“What’s that?”
“Baseball.”
“Oh.”
“Yeah,” says Braedon. “And they told Daniel they want their favor now. Which is to nick a bunch of frozen pizzas from a truck when it’s making a delivery to Value Foods.”
