Chapter Thirty-one
Tony waited patiently on the doorstep of his former high school teacher's home. It really wasn't all that long ago, he thought; it seemed like only yesterday that he was a student in Mr. Hinkley's class in high school.
Looking back, Tony knew, even then, that Mr. Hinkley really cared about his students. Mr. Hinkley had personally helped Tony through some rough times. Tony recalled the time he quit school. He was not doing well at school and was feeling frustrated. His dad, who had dropped out of high school when he was young, had all but encouraged Tony to do the same. So, discouraged with school, Tony took his dad's advice and dropped out. Looking for a job without a high school diploma was fruitless. Unable to find work, things seemed to go from bad to worse. It didn't take long for Tony to realize what an impossible situation he had placed himself. Mr. Hinkley, who had pleaded with Tony not to quit school, refused to give up on Tony. He visited Tony's house several times to talk with his parents as well as him. In the end, with Mr. Hinkley's persuasion, both Tony and his dad agreed on the importance of Tony finishing high school and as a result, Tony returned to school.
"Tony? Well, I'll be! Tony Villicana!" Ralph exclaimed, as he opened the front door. "It's great to see you. Come on it!" he said stepping aside.
"Thank you Mr. Hinkley. It's good to see you too," Tony replied, entering the house.
"Pam and I are eating breakfast. Why don't you join us, Tony? It sure is good to see you again. You know I don't often see many students after they graduate," Ralph said, leading Tony into the kitchen.
Pam looked up from her seat at the table. "Tony?"
"Hi Miss David… -er Mrs. Hinkley," Tony replied, warmly.
"Listen Tony, now that you're no longer my student, why don't you just call us by our first names, Ralph and Pam," Ralph suggested.
Tony nodded, but wasn't sure how easy it would be. Could he really call his old teacher by his first name? RALPH? The idea was very strange.
"Would you like some French toast?" Pam asked, politely. Rising from her seat to set another place, she didn't bother to wait for his answer. "I can whip up some more in just a second," she said, serving the last few pieces of the French toast to Tony."
"So, Tony, what are you up to these days?" Ralph asked, stabbing a small piece of French toast with his fork.
Tony reached for the bottle of maple syrup. "I just graduated from the FBI academy, Mr. Hink… -er Ralph." It wasn't going to be easy calling his teacher by his first name, Tony decided.
Ralph smiled, "That's great, Tony, I always knew you could do it. How do you like it so far?"
"I'm working with Mr. Maxwell," Tony replied. "He hasn't changed a bit."
Tony took his first bite of French toast. "Very good, delicious," he said, turning to Pam. He wasn't going to even try to use their first names.
"That's right, Bill told me you two are partners now," Ralph commented. "How do you like it so far?"
"It's great. I really love the investigative work. I feel like I'm playing a game of 'CLUE'," Tony answered. "Got any more orange juice?" he asked, pouring out the last few drops of juice into his glass.
"Sure Tony, hang on," Ralph said, reaching into the refrigerator behind him.
Pam placed a new batch of French toast on the table and returned to her seat.
"Do you keep in touch with any of the other students from class?" Ralph asked.
"Not really. I ran into Ronda a few months ago, but other than that, no." It'd be great to see everyone though, Tony thought.
"I always thought something would develop between you and Ronda," Pam said, with a sly smirk on her face.
"Uh, no. I mean, nothing happened. Once she got involved with the band, they spent a lot of time traveling and we lost touch," Tony answered, surprised at the disappointment he heard in his own voice.
"So, how's Kevin?" Tony asked. "What is he now, 15 or 16?"
"Kevin? Oh, he just turned 15," Ralph replied, "In fact yesterday was his birthday."
"Oh yeah? He's in high school now? Wow, unbelievable. He was just a kid when I saw him last. Is he around? I'd like to see him," Tony responded.
"No, he's over a friend's house right now. In fact, you just missed him," Ralph replied. "He'll be disappointed he missed you; I know he'd like to see you again too. You know Tony, he really liked you. I think he thought of you as his big brother."
"Yeah, he was a good kid."
"Why don't you come by for dinner sometime this week?" Ralph asked. "Kevin's staying with me all next week."
"Sure. That sounds terrific," Tony said, helping himself to another piece of French toast.
"How about Saturday night?" Ralph suggested, looking at Pam for confirmation.
Pam shook her head, "No, Ralph we have to chaperone the Halloween costume contest at the school next Saturday night."
"Oh yes, Irene won't be too happy if I cancel on her," Ralph commented.
"Costume contest?" Tony asked. "For Halloween?"
"It's a new thing this year," Ralph replied. "They're offering prizes for the best costumes."
"What's Kevin going as?" Tony asked, curiously.
"Uh… We're not sure yet," Ralph stammered, nervously.
"You know how indecisive kids can be about their costumes," Pam added.
Kevin? Tony thought. He was surprised to hear that. Kevin had always been a kid with a mind of his own; he'd never describe Kevin as 'indecisive'. Tony sensed their discomfort and knew Pam was covering for Ralph. He decided to let it go.
"How about dinner on Friday night then?" Tony asked.
Ralph agreed, "Friday night would be perfect," he said, nodding.
"How about 6:00 p.m.?" Pam suggested.
Tony nodded, "Great!"
Chapter Thirty-two
Bill pulled into Ralph's driveway paying little attention to the '82 blue Toyota parked across the street.
"Ralph? Ralph!" Bill called, as he unlocked the front door and burst into the living room. "We have no time to lose, you gotta get into your red jammies and come with me to the Bureau!" he said, gruffly.
The living room was empty. Where was he! Bill wondered. We don't have time for this!
"Ralph! Where are you kid?" he shouted urgently, racing down the hall to the kitchen.
"Come on, Ral…" Bill stopped dead in his tracks at the sight of Tony.
"Villicana?" he said, shocked. "What are you doing here? ….Ralph, what is Villicana doing here?" Bill said, turning to Ralph, not waiting for Tony's response.
"Good morning to you too, Maxwell," Tony replied smiling, holding up his fork bearing a limp, oversized piece of French toast dripping with syrup.
"Tony stopped by and is joining us for breakfast, Bill. Want some French toast?" Ralph offered.
Pam rose from her seat to set another place setting for Bill.
"Breakfast? You invited Villicana for breakfast and not me?" Bill whined.
"We don't have to invite you Bill," Pam explained, "You're always here anyway," she said, sarcastically, mixing a batch of fresh batter.
"Very funny, counselor!" Bill retorted, taking a seat.
Chapter Thirty-three
Jim and John were shooting pool in the game room at the Kingsman's when Kevin arrived.
"Hi Kev," John said, handing Kevin a pool cue.
"Hi guys," Kevin answered, watching Jim aim for the 8-ball and sink it.
"Hi Kev," Jim answered, replacing all the pocketed balls onto the top of the pool table.
"Nice shot Jim," Kevin said.
"We're just goofing around," John said, "Peter will be here soon and we can play teams," he added.
"Okay," Kevin answered, racking the balls together.
"Hi Kevin, nice to see you," greeted Mrs. Kingsman, as she entered the game room carrying a tray of assorted fruit.
"Hi Mrs. Kingsman," Kevin answered, smiling, glad to see some food. He should have eaten something before he left home, but he was in a hurry to get to his friends' house.
"Help yourself boys," Mrs. Kingsman said, "I've got more upstairs, if you run out," She added.
The boys made a b-line for the fruit.
"How long 'til Peter gets here?" Kevin asked, tossing a grape in the air and catching it with his mouth.
"Don't know," replied John, "He had to take care of his chores first," biting into an apple.
Kevin tossed another grape in the air, but Jim pushed Kevin aside and caught it in his mouth.
"Hey, Jim! That's mine!" Kevin complained, not really mad.
"Want it back?" Jim joked, pretending to reach into his mouth to retrieve it.
"Uh… no thanks, you can have it," Kevin said, making a face.
"Throw me one, Kev," Jim suggested, "I bet I can catch it from here!" he declared, backing further away from Kevin.
"Okay," Kevin responded. He picked up a small grape and tossed it high in the air toward Jim.
Jim watched closely and moved in closer catching it squarely in his mouth. "Not bad, no?" he asked, chewing the grape.
"Oh brother!" groaned John, rolling his eyes. "He practices with popcorn and stuff all the time! He thinks it impresses the girls."
"Does it?" Kevin asked, curious.
"Sure!" Jim exclaimed. "Never fails. You should try it!"
"Yeah, you can tell how successful he is by the number of girls he has chasing after him!" teased John. "Forget it; no girl wants to see a guy playing with his food!"
"It's a skill of coordination, John," Jim explained. "Girls go for sleek, cool moves."
"Like catching grapes? I don't think so, Jim," John argued. "Well, at least Kevin won't need it for Tracy Thompson."
Kevin cringed. He didn't like where this conversation was going, so he popped another grape in his mouth and headed back toward the pool table.
"What about Tracy Thompson?" Peter asked, walking into the game room, carrying containers of juice.
"My mom sent those down with you!" Jim asked, joking.
"Yeah, I guess she doesn't trust you guys to carry anything that might spill!" Peter laughed, placing the drinks on the table near the fruit.
"Not a problem for Jim, he's Mr. Coordination!" John teased.
"How true," Jim nodded his head, good-naturedly, choosing to not take offense at his brother's sarcasm. He tossed another grape in the air to catch it with his mouth, but this time it rebounded off his nose and landed on his eye.
"Now THAT will attract girls!" John mocked.
"Hey, don't laugh! Girls love slapstick comedians like Jim Carey, Bob Hope, and Jerry Lewis," Peter argued. "My mom and her girlfriends watch their movies at our house all the time!"
"Well, we're not talking about old women like your mom, we're talking about Tracy Thompson," John teased, tossing a look in Kevin's direction.
"Cut it out, John," Kevin said, giving him a dirty look.
"Hey, did you hear about the robbery at her dad's jewelry store?" Peter asked.
"Where have you been? That happened 2 weeks ago," Jim replied, crunching into a large Bartlett pear.
"No, not that one! Another one of his stores was robbed; the store downtown was burglarized. It's the 3rd store in two weeks."
"Wow, Pete, I only heard about the first one," Kevin said.
"My dad golfs with Tracy's dad, that's how we heard about it," Peter explained. "He said the police haven't been able to come up with anything. No finger prints, nothing. He says the odd thing about it is that all the stolen jewelry was taken from a safe and hadn't even been on display."
"How many stores does he own?" Kevin asked, wondering. He knew the Thompson's were well-off and that Mr. Thompson owned his own jewelry store; but he had no idea the man owned a chain of them! How could anyone rob three stores and leave no clue behind?
"He owns 4 stores," Peter replied. "Isn't that weird that 3 of them get hit within such a short time period, the same way and leave no evidence?"
"There HAS to be evidence. Even the lack of evidence is evidence!" Jim exclaimed.
"What? Are you crazy, Jim?" John asked. "Lack of evidence is evidence?"
Kevin thought about it a moment. I wonder if Jim is right…
Chapter Thirty-four
Bill watched as Tony's car disappeared down the street and out of sight.
"Finally!" he said, "I thought he'd never leave," Bill complained, referring to Tony.
"Bill, I wish you wouldn't give Tony such a hard time," Ralph said, helping Pam clear the breakfast dishes from the table. "He's a good kid and …."
"Yeah, I know… I know! I've heard it all before, Ralph. Forget about him. We've got bigger fish to fry," Bill said, impatiently.
"What's going on, Bill?" Ralph asked, placing the last of the dishes into the sink.
"Ralph, you gotta go put on the red jammies and come down with me to the Bureau," Bill requested impatiently.
"What? Bill, I've got tickets to the World Series game this afternoon. I don't have time to …" Ralph saw the determination in Bill's eyes. "Why don't you just start at the beginning and tell me what's going on?" Ralph insisted.
"Ralph, we're losing precious time. Just get the jammies and I'll tell you on the way!" Bill urged.
Ralph shook his head and started walking toward his bedroom. "Oh, wait a minute," he stopped, "The suit isn't in my briefcase anymore; Kevin had it," he said.
"What? What in the world would Kevin be doing with your magic suit?" Bill asked.
"It's a long story," Ralph replied, heading for Kevin's room.
"Did Kevin find out?" Bill asked Pam.
Pam moved closer to Bill before speaking. "Bill, Kevin got a hold of the suit," she said gently. "He thought it was a Halloween costume that Ralph bought for him."
"Oh. So, no harm no foul," Bill concluded.
"Not exactly," Pam said, quietly, "Kevin put the suit on and when Ralph touched him…"
"What…." Bill was reluctant to put his thoughts into words, "I'm afraid to ask, what happened?"
"They switched clothes," Pam answered. "Ralph said something that swapped their clothes. Ralph had the red suit on and Kevin…. Well, was wearing Ralph's clothes. But don't worry; he switched their clothes right back before anyone else could see."
"What do you mean before anyone else could see? Where did this happen?" Bill asked, trying to remain calm.
"Oh, it was here, at home," Pam answered.
Bill sighed, "Good, you had me concerned there for a minute. So, no one saw anything; and no one else, aside from Kevin, knows about the suit."
"Well, that isn't entirely accurate. Kevin had a few friends over. They all thought the suit was Kevin's costume for the Halloween contest, so there's no need to worry."
"No need to worry! Kevin and twenty of his cohorts know about the magic suit and you say there's nothing to worry about!" Bill began pacing the floor.
"It was only five of his friends; and they also thought the suit was a Halloween costume. Trust me, there's no problem," Pam said, calmly.
Ralph returned to the living room empty-handed. He had his hand on his chin, with a confused look on his face.
"What's the matter, Ralph?" Pam asked, anxiously.
"I can't find it," Ralph said.
"You can't find … the suit?" Bill asked, with his eyes wide-open in disbelief. "Please tell me that's not what you meant," he insisted.
"I'm sorry Bill, I can't find the suit. It just isn't there. I searched Kevin's closet and all his drawers. I even looked under his bed, not a pretty sight I might add. Listen Pam, we're gonna have to talk to that boy about stuffing things under his bed…"
"RALPH!" Bill shouted. "He must have taken it with him. Where is Kevin right now?" Bill demanded.
"Right Bill," Ralph said, rushing to the telephone.
"Oh great!" Bill muttered.
"Kevin?" Ralph said into the phone. "I need to know where you put the red suit. You didn't take it with you did you?"
"Bill, I really don't think he took the suit with him. I mean he rode his bicycle over there and we saw him head out the door…" Pam explained.
"I CHECKED your room. WHERE in your room did you put it?" Ralph was clearly beginning to panic.
"See Bill, Kevin doesn't have it with him. It MUST be here somewhere," Pam said beginning to search the room.
"I need you to come home right away and get it for me. And Kevin, we need to talk about stuffing things under your bed."
"Not in here," Pam concluded, heading toward their bedroom. "Maybe he put it in our room somewhere," she suggested.
"I'll check the laundry room," Ralph suggested, also leaving the living room.
Bill stood there shaking his head. "This isn't happening."