The Winner's Game(16)

Bree doesn’t come right out and say it, but her body language says she thinks my last message was way awesomer than hers. Not to be outdone by her little brother, she takes the pen and paper and starts scribbling again. When she’s done, she laughs, then she shows me what she wrote. “When I hold this in the window,” she whispers, “you have to look really scared, OK?”

“Aye.”

An old couple in a motorhome pulls up behind us in the slow lane. When Bree puts the message against the glass, I do just what she told me. The couple looks really scared. They wave at us and stuff, then they take the very next exit. Once they’re gone, me and Bree start laughing, then hide the papers on the floor beneath the seat.

Fifteen minutes later two police cars come screaming up behind us, both of them with their lights flashing and sirens blaring.

“Whoa!” Ann shouts, sounding startled as the sirens yank her from a nap. “What’s going on?”

My heart is pounding hard against my chest, which makes me wonder what Ann’s heart is doing. I shoot Bree a nervous look. She looks even more worried than me. As Dad pulls over to the side to let the cops pass, I know we’re in deep doo-doo when they both follow us to the shoulder.

With cars whizzing by on his left, one officer carefully gets out of his cruiser. His gun is still holstered, but his hand is glued to it.

“Bree? Cade? Anything you’d like to tell me?” hisses Dad as the officer approaches.

“Umm…not really,” Bree says.

“Nay,” I add softly.

Dad rolls down his window and quickly pastes a smile on his face. “Good evening, officer. Is everything all right? I wasn’t speeding, was I?”

The policeman scans the inside of the car from front to back, looking at every person individually, but paying particular attention to me and Bree. “Where you folks headed?”

“Cannon Beach.”

“Can I see your identification, please?”

Dad hands it to him.

“Are the children in the car yours?” the officer asks as he reviews my father’s driver’s license.

“Last time I checked,” says Dad with a nervous chuckle.

The officer doesn’t laugh. He asks my dad to open the hatchback, then he comes around back to talk directly to me and my sister. “Do you guys know why I’m here?” he asks. His voice is as serious as Ann’s pulse.

I nod yes, but Bree shakes her head, no. “Was my dad speeding again?” she asks innocently. “Mom says he has a lead foot.”

“So he’s your father?”

“Last time I checked,” Bree says with a little snicker, quoting the same thing Dad had told him a minute earlier.

“Then why,” the officer continues, “did we get a frantic nine-one-one call saying some kids had been abducted?”

Bree gives him her “I don’t know” look and says, “A different car, maybe?”

Despite my sister’s brilliant performance, I know it is not time for games. I dig through the papers on the floor and hold up the one that reads, Help! We’ve been kidnapped! Call the police!!

The officer writes our names and ages in his notepad and goes back to his car. A few minutes later he returns, having confirmed that Dell and Emily Bennett are the parents of exactly three alphabetically named children—Ann, Bree, and Cade. “Everything checks out,” he tells my dad. “Looks like you’ve got your hands full, Mr. Bennett.”

Dad is still glaring at us in the rearview mirror. “You have no idea. What would it take to get you to lock them up for a few months?”

Luckily, the policeman isn’t in the mood to charge us with anything. Dad, however, charges us with mutiny. “Maybe Cade’s the only one talking like a pirate today,” he says once we’re back on the road, “but I swear, both of you are pirate children. And I don’t mean that as a compliment.” He keeps his voice fairly even so as not to further upset Ann, but I can tell he is ready to blow a gasket. “Kidnapped? Our summer trip is less than an hour old, and you’ve already had me pulled over for suspected kidnapping.” He checks the rearview mirror again to make sure we are paying attention. “Guys, do you even recall why we’re going to the beach?”

“Yes,” Bree says.

“Cade?”

“Aye, cap’n.”

“Good. But if you know why, then I need you to act like it’s important to you. When I said we can’t afford your shenanigans, this is exactly what I was talking about. This summer is about Ann, not about you two hooligans.” He stops talking for a second, but his jaw stays clenched tight. “Tell me truthfully, are you two ready and able to make this summer work, or should I turn around right now?”