“The Bag Man,” said Jack. “And he’s got another bag with him.”
“Is it moving?” asked Stephen.
“I don’t think so,” said Jack. “But this one looks heavy.”
As they watched, Vigue handed something to Smoker and then the Bag Man handed his bag to Vigue. Smoker nodded and then walked off towards the street with the Bag Man in tow.
“Are they selling drugs?” asked Stephen.
“Maybe. But I can’t imagine Mr. Vigue buying them,” said Jack. “Although he’s been pretty upset since the Gabe thing.”
“Oh, that’s the guy who had his kid abducted?” Stephen asked.
“Yeah,” said Ben. “That’s Gabe’s dad.”
“Holy shit,” said Stephen. “He must be pissed. Maybe they sold him a weapon or something.”
“What for?” said Jack. “The cops already have Anderson.”
Ben got up from the bed and went over to the computer. “I’ll check online. Maybe something happened.”
Jack and Stephen continued to watch out the window. The movers carried mostly boxes at this point and the occasional lamp or chair.
“Can I look through those?” Stephen asked Jack, and Jack handed over the field glasses. “Looks like that one guy is filling out a form or something,” he reported.
A man, his jumpsuit unzipped to the waist, stood about halfway down the walk. He studied the clipboard propped against his belly and then waved to his co-worker. The man then went back to the house and closed the front door.
“Looks like they’re done,” said Stephen.
One mover climbed into the cab while the other was working behind the truck. The other movers piled into a pickup the same color as the bigger truck.
“Yup, definitely taking off,” said Stephen.
“I guess it’s not a crime scene anymore,” said Jack.
“This is all I can find,” said Ben. He read the headline: “Durham man held without bail for Gabe Vigue disappearance.”
“That’s all?” asked Stephen.
“Yeah,” said Ben, “but it’s from June twenty-third.”
“I bet my mom would know more,” said Jack. “She reads the paper every day.”
“So ask her,” said Stephen.
“I guess,” said Jack. “But she was pretty upset when they took him.”
“There’s nothing better to do. Go ask,” said Stephen.
“Okay, I’ll be right back,” said Jack. He got up off the bed and left his room, closing the door behind himself. He found his mom downstairs in their home office.
“Hey mom?”
She looked up from her papers — “Hey Bub, what’s up?”
“What, um, what ever happened with Mr. Anderson?” Jack asked.
“Oh honey,” she began, “don’t worry about that.”
“I’m just wondering because they’re taking away all his furniture,” said Jack.
“Well that’s probably for the best,” she said.
“Do you think he did it?”
“I don’t know. I guess we’ll find out. But, either way, I don’t think he was going to be able to live next to the Vigues anymore.”
“How come?”
“Well, regardless if he’s found guilty or innocent, I think that the Vigues would always have their suspicions, and it would be uncomfortable for them to live next door,” his mom said.
“How long has Mr. Anderson lived in Maine?” asked Jack.
“Um, let’s see, he moved here in nineteen ninety-eight,” she replied.
“Oh,” said Jack. “Where did he live before that?”
“He was in Europe,” she said. “France mostly, I think.”
“What was he doing there?” asked Jack.
“Why are you so curious about Mr. Anderson’s history all of a sudden?”
“I don’t know — just curious,” said Jack.
“Okay. Well I don’t really know that much about Mr. Anderson before he moved in there. I think his work sent him overseas.”
“Thanks mom,” Jack turned to go.
“Hey Bub, did I get your essay yet from yesterday?” she asked as he walked away.
“Oh, I’ll go get it,” said Jack.
“Don’t worry — give it to me with tonight’s,” she said.
Back upstairs, Ben and Stephen discovered the website of a local newspaper. They searched for information about Anderson, but they didn't turn up anything new.
“What’d you find out?” Stephen asked as Jack entered.
“Not much, but she did say that he was living in France before nineteen ninety-eight.”
“Really?” asked Stephen. “Why France?”
“Who knows,” said Jack.
“So she doesn’t know why he’s moving?” asked Ben.
“Nope,” said Jack. He opened the second drawer of his dresser and moved his shirts aside. The drawer-liner hid the letter they found at the hotel. Jack took it over to the bed. “This was supposedly written in nineteen ninety-one.”
“I wouldn’t trust that thing,” said Ben.
“Yeah,” said Jack, distracted. “He talks about a trust for the taxes and stuff. Really sounds like he’s planning to not be around. Maybe that’s because he was going to France.”
“So you think that this Anderson guy set up the hotel? If he did, wouldn’t he start looking after the place himself when he got back?” asked Stephen.
“I don’t know, maybe he wanted to be anonymous,” said Jack.
“Well I don’t think the hotel guy is Mr. Anderson,” said Ben. “I’m not sure if Anderson snatched the Vigue kid, but I think that the hotel guy is still at the hotel.”
“That’s super sketchy — what makes you think that?” Stephen wrinkled his nose.
“It just feels planned. Like he’s there and waiting for us,” said Ben.
“You know, one thing makes sense about Anderson being the manager of the hotel — this kind of creepy stuff has to be really rare. I mean, what are the odds that one town would have a crazy hotel and a kidnapper?”
“Yeah,” said Jack, “that’s why I keep thinking they’re connected.”
“You just want everything to tie up neatly,” said Ben.
“Well I guess it doesn’t really matter much,” said Jack. “If they are connected Anderson is in jail anyway, and if they’re not, there’s no reason to believe that the hotel guy is still around.”
“Except that’s exactly what I believe,” said Ben.
“Yeah,” smiled Jack, “but aside from that.”
“You think it’s a joke,” said Ben. “We’ll see.”
“Hey, that reminds me, we have to do those essays,” said Jack.
Wednesday was sunny and the boys told Jack’s mom that they were going to catalogue the species of reptiles near the creek. They had already written essays about it and hidden them in Jack’s shirt drawer. They planned to set out after breakfast.
While Jack and Stephen did the dishes, Ben tried to reach his mother on the phone. He came back to the kitchen to find his friends just wrapping up their chores.
“What’d she say?” asked Jack.
“I still can’t get her,” said Ben. “At the house the answering machine picks up, and her cell phone is off.”
“What about your brother’s phone?” Jack asked.
“Nothing,” replied Ben.
“I bet she lost her cell again,” said Ben. “That’s all I can think.”
“Yeah, but why wouldn’t she get your message?” asked Jack.
“She hardly ever checks it,” said Ben. “Whatever. I’m sure she’ll get back to me soon.”
“We ready?” asked Jack.
“Why not,” said Ben.
They grabbed their packs, put on sunscreen so Jack’s mom wouldn’t worry, and headed out. Since it was fairly early, they decided to risk the path, but they didn’t talk to one another so they could listen for Smoker. Jack took the lead and paused every hundred yards, to hear if anything was following them. They verified Jack’s fishing line still stretched across the path, and were unsurprised that the new envelope hadn’t arrived.