The Unwilling Umpire (5 page)

“When they asked Pete to explain why only Fizzo and I were in the van, Pete said he panicked and ran,” Buddy went on. “They believed him. Then Fizzo’s folks came to get us, and Pete sat in jail overnight.”

Buddy scratched Pal’s belly and the dog let out a big sigh. “Don’t you see? Pete’s lying for me again,” Buddy said. “I don’t know who took those baseballs. But it wasn’t me, and it sure wasn’t Pete!”

“You have to tell Officer Fallon!” Ruth Rose said. “He has to let your brother out of jail now!”

“Okay. Let me lock up the trailer,” Buddy said.

A few minutes later, the three kids headed over to the police station with Buddy. Pal led the way, snuffling his nose along the ground.

“Why did you and Pete leave Maine?” Josh asked Buddy.

The teenager shrugged. “After I got in trouble with Fizzo, Pete decided we
should move to someplace new. We’re headed south.”

“What about school?” Dink asked.

“Pete’s homeschooling me,” Buddy said. “He’s real smart.”

“Why did you stop in Green Lawn?” asked Ruth Rose.

“We ran low on cash, so we stopped here for a while so Pete could earn more money,” Buddy said as they walked. “He got a job painting a house about ten miles from here. Soon as he’s done, we’re supposed to head to Florida. Have you guys ever been there?”

“Yes, my grandmother lives in Florida,” Ruth Rose said. She told Buddy about the gold mystery they solved the last time they visited her grandmother.

Soon they were standing in front of the police station. “Don’t worry about Officer Fallon,” Josh said. “He’s a nice guy.”

The kids climbed the steps. Josh tied Pal to a railing. “Stay and behave,” Josh told his dog.

Pal woofed as the four kids walked into the building.

Ruth Rose knocked on Officer Fallon’s door.

“Come in!” a voice said, and they trooped inside.

The police chief was sitting at his computer. He was staring at the screen and sipping from a mug of tea.

Officer Fallon glanced up. “Hello again. Who’s this?” he asked, nodding at Buddy.

“This is Buddy Unkenholz,” Dink said. “He’s Pete’s brother.”

“Hello, young man,” Officer Fallon said. He stood up and reached a long arm across his desk to shake hands.

“Is my brother okay?” Buddy asked.

“Yes, but he won’t talk to me,” Officer Fallon said. He pointed to the
long sofa. “Have a seat, kids.”

When they were lined up on his sofa, Officer Fallon smiled at Buddy. “You and your big brother look a lot alike,” he said.

“Pete didn’t take those baseballs,” Buddy said.

“Oh? He insists he did,” Officer Fallon said. “How do you know otherwise?”

“Pete must think I took those balls,” Buddy said. “He’s saying he did it so I won’t get in trouble.”

Officer Fallon tapped a pencil against his teeth and stared at Buddy. “Pete says he took the balls. You say he’s lying to protect you. Who should I believe?” he asked.

“But my brother is honest!” Buddy blurted out. “He wouldn’t steal anything. You can call anyone back home. They all call Pete ‘Honest Abe’!”

Officer Fallon nodded. “I already made a phone call, to the police chief in
Penobscot, Maine,” he said. “He told me about that van, and he said he’s pretty sure your brother had nothing to do with it. Thing is, Pete insisted he was the one driving the van that night.”

Buddy blushed. “That was me and Fizzo Martin,” he said, looking at his feet. “Pete wasn’t even there.”

Officer Fallon stared at the unhappy boy. “So Pete lied to the Maine police about the van to protect you,” he said. “And now you tell me he’s lying again.”

“Yes, sir,” Buddy said. “But neither of us took those baseballs! Why can’t you let him out of jail?”

Officer Fallon shook his head. “The baseballs are still missing. I’m sorry, son, but until they’re returned and the thief is caught, Pete has to stay where he is.”

Buddy gasped. His eyes grew wide, and Dink thought he would start crying.

“Don’t worry Buddy. Pete will be fine till we get to the bottom of this,” Officer Fallon said.

He looked at the troubled teenager. “But what are we going to do with
you?”

“What do you mean?” Buddy asked.

“How old are you, son?” Officer Fallon asked.

“Fourteen,” Buddy said. “But I’ll be fifteen in three months!”

“Fourteen,” Officer Fallon repeated.

“So I can’t let you stay in that trailer alone.”

Buddy glanced up with a sly look in his eyes. “So why don’t you put me in jail with Pete?”

Officer Fallon laughed. “No, that won’t do.”

“He can stay with us,” Dink said. “My folks won’t mind. We’ve got a spare room.”

Officer Fallon turned his gaze on Dink. “Are you sure?”

“I can call my mom and ask her,” Dink said.

“Sound all right with you?” Officer Fallon asked Buddy.

“Sure, I guess,” the boy said. He looked at Dink. “Thanks, man.”

Officer Fallon handed his phone to Dink. Two minutes later, it was settled, and Dink hung up.

“Mom says Buddy can stay as long
as he needs to,” he said. “She’s getting two huge pizzas for tonight!”

“Cool!” cried Josh. Then he looked at Dink. “I’m invited, right?”

Dink nodded. “Ruth Rose, too. We’ll have a party.”

“Okay, why don’t I drive you four to Dink’s right now?” Officer Fallon asked.

“Can I go get my toothbrush and stuff?” Buddy asked.

Officer Fallon stood up. “Fine, we’ll stop at the trailer first. Shall we go?”

Dink, Josh, Ruth Rose, Buddy, and Pal all climbed into Officer Fallon’s cruiser. Buddy rode up front, and Pal lay sprawled across Josh’s lap in the back.

It took only a minute to reach the quiet campsite. Officer Fallon parked near the picnic table.

“Buddy, I need to search the trailer before you go inside,” Officer Fallon said.

“Search for what?” Buddy asked.

“As far as I can see, both you and your brother had a chance to take the baseballs,” Officer Fallon said kindly “I want to believe you, but there are too many unanswered questions about those baseballs. If they’re not in your trailer, that’s one question answered.”

Buddy dug in his pocket, then handed over the key to the trailer. “But you won’t find ’em,” he muttered.

Officer Fallon climbed out of his cruiser. He strode to the trailer and used Buddy’s key to let himself inside.

“He doesn’t believe me,” Buddy grumbled. He picked up a pinecone and tossed it at the trash barrel.

“Officer Fallon just wants to find Mr. Pocket’s baseballs,” Dink said. “They’re really valuable.”

“Well, he won’t find them in our trailer,” Buddy insisted.

“I believe you,” Ruth Rose told Buddy. “If you and your brother didn’t steal them, we have to find out who did!”

“Great, but how?” Buddy asked. “Anyone could have snuck into the clubhouse.”

“But only people who came to the game knew the baseballs were in that glass case,” Dink said.

“Oh my gosh!” Josh said. “The thief might live right here in Green Lawn!”

“Yeah,” Dink grumbled. He was remembering the hundreds of people sitting in the bleachers. Was one of them the baseball thief?

“The first pitch was at eleven o’clock,” Buddy said.

“What time did Pete go inside for his medicine?” Dink asked.

“It was around quarter past eleven,” Buddy said. “Then I went looking for him a few minutes later. That’s when I saw the smashed case and took off for the trailer.”

“So that means someone stole the balls between eleven and eleven-fifteen,” Ruth Rose said.

Just then Officer Fallon walked out of the trailer.

“Thank you,” he said, handing the key back to Buddy “I’m happy to say that you were right and I was wrong.”

“Can I get my stuff now?” Buddy asked.

“Sure, then I’ll drop you all off at Dink’s house.”

Buddy climbed the aluminum steps and disappeared inside the trailer.

“Well, what do you think?” Officer Fallon asked the kids.

“I think he’s telling the truth,” Ruth Rose said.

“Me too,” Dink and Josh said at the same time.

Officer Fallon raised his eyebrows. “Any particular reasons?”

“Well, if I were going to steal the baseballs, I wouldn’t do it with all those people watching me walk into the clubhouse,” Ruth Rose said. “And if I did take the balls, I’d hide them and return to the game so I didn’t draw attention to myself.”

“Could it have been Buddy?” Officer Fallon said, glancing at the trailer. “He could have stolen the balls and hid them till later.”

“No,” Dink said. “If Buddy were planning to take the balls, he wouldn’t have teased his brother about stealing them. He’d want to keep his plan to himself.”

“Besides,” Josh said, “if Buddy did steal the baseballs, he wouldn’t let his brother take the rap and sit in jail. Buddy really loves Pete.”

“That’s fine reasoning from all of you,” Officer Fallon said. “And I’m inclined to agree with you. But then who
did
take the balls, and where are they now?”

“Could the thief sell the balls?” Dink asked.

“Oh, easily,” Officer Fallon said. “There’s a huge market for baseballs signed by famous players.”

Just then Buddy opened the trailer door, locked it, and walked over to the picnic table. He was carrying a lumpy backpack.

“Get everything you need?” asked Officer Fallon.

Buddy nodded. “Will you tell Pete where I’ll be staying?”

“I sure will, Buddy,” Officer Fallon said.

They all climbed back into the cruiser. Five minutes later, Officer Fallon pulled up in front of Dink’s house.

“Have a good pizza party,” he said as the kids and Pal got out.

“Why don’t you come, too?” Dink asked. “There will be plenty of food.”

“Wish I could,” Officer Fallon said. “But I need to begin talking to people who were at the game. Someone might have noticed whoever walked into the clubhouse just before Pete did.”

“So you believe me?” Buddy asked.

Officer Fallon smiled. “I believe you,” he said, then drove away.

“What time should we come over for pizza?” Josh asked Dink.

“How about five o’clock?” Dink said.

“Great! I have to muck out Polly’s stall anyway,” Josh said. “See you later!”
He and Pal headed up Woody Street toward Farm Lane.