The abduction

Chapter 22

When the students at Strattenburg Middle School returned to class on Monday morning, they expected a little excitement. This would not be a typical Monday. A dark cloud had hung over the school since April’s disappearance, and now it was gone. Just a few days earlier everyone presumed her dead. Now she was back, and not only had she been found, she’d been rescued by one of their own. Theo’s daring mission to Chapel Hill to pluck her from her father’s captivity was quickly becoming a legend.

The arriving students were not disappointed. Before daybreak, half a dozen television vans were parked haphazardly around the wide, circular drive at the entrance of the school. Reporters were all over the place, with photographers waiting for a glimpse of something. This upset Mrs. Gladwell, and she called the police. A confrontation took place; angry words were exchanged; arrests were threatened. The police eventually moved the mob off school property, so the cameras were set up across the street. As this was happening, the buses began arriving and the students witnessed some of the conflict.

The bell rang at 8:15 for homeroom, but there was no sign of Theo and April. In Mr. Mount’s room, Chase Whipple briefed the class on his participation in the search and rescue, which was received with rapt attention. On his Facebook page, Theo had posted a short version of what happened, and he gave plenty of credit to Chase.

At 8:30, Mrs. Gladwell again called all eighth graders to assembly. As they filed in, the mood was in stark contrast to the last gathering. Now the kids were lighthearted, laughing, and anxious to see April and forget this experience. Theo and April sneaked into the rear of the school, met Mr. Mount near the cafeteria, and hustled to assembly where they were mobbed by their classmates and hugged by their teachers.

April was anxious and obviously uncomfortable with the attention.

For Theo, though, it was his finest hour.

Later that morning, Marcella Boone appeared in Family Court to file a petition asking for the appointment of a temporary legal guardian for April Finnemore. Such a petition could be filed by any person concerned about the safety and well-being of any child. There was no requirement that notice be given to the child or to its parents when the petition was filed, but a temporary guardian would not be appointed unless good cause was shown to the court.

The judge was a large old man with a head full of curly white hair and a white beard and round, rosy cheeks that reminded a lot of people of Santa Claus. His name was Judge Jolly. In spite of his name, he was pious and strict, and because of this, and because of his appearance, he was known, behind his back all over town, as St. Nick.

He reviewed the petition while sitting on the bench, then asked Mrs. Boone, “Any sign of Tom Finnemore?”

Mrs. Boone had spent most of her career in Family Court, and knew St. Nick extremely well. She said, “I have been told that he called his wife last night and they talked for the first time in weeks. Supposedly, he will return home this afternoon.”

“And no criminal charges are expected?”

“The police are treating this as a civil matter, not a criminal one.”

“Do you have a recommendation as to who I should appoint as temporary guardian?”

“I do.”

“Who?”

“Me.”

“You’re asking to be appointed?”

“That’s correct, Your Honor. I know this situation very well. I know this child, her mother, and, to a much lesser extent, her father. I’m very concerned about what will happen to April, and I’m willing to serve as her temporary guardian for no fee.”

“That’s a good deal for everyone, Mrs. Boone,” St. Nick said with a rare smile. “You are hereby appointed. What’s your plan?”

“I would like to have an immediate hearing before this Court as soon as possible to determine where April should live for the next few days.”

“Granted. When?”

“As soon as possible, Your Honor. If Mr. Finnemore returns today, I’ll make sure he is immediately notified of the hearing.”

“How about 9:00 a.m. tomorrow?”

“Perfect.”

Tom Finnemore arrived home late Monday afternoon. Plunder’s tour was over, and so was the band itself. The members had quarreled almost nonstop for two weeks, and they made little money. And they felt as though Tom had dragged them into his family mess by snatching his daughter and keeping her with him. April was just one of the many things they had fought over. Their biggest problem was that they were all middle-aged now, and too old to be playing for peanuts in frat houses and beer halls.

At home, Tom was met by his wife, who said little, and his daughter, who said even less. The women were united in their opposition to his presence, but Tom was too tired to fight. He went to the basement and locked the door. An hour later, a deputy arrived and handed him a summons to court. First thing in the morning.