Vanishing Acts by Phillip Margolin, Ami Margolin Rome Read Free Book Online

to the fake, but she lost her balance on the slippery grass. Racing around Marci, Madison kicked the ball just beyond the outstretched fingertips of the goalie! The ball shot into a corner of the net, and Madison’s teammates shrieked and pounded her on the back. Madison grinned. Then she looked over her shoulder and saw Marci struggling to her knees. Half of her face was covered with dirt, and her shorts were smeared with mud and grass. Madison was tempted to gloat, but she decided that scoring a goal while Marci was eating mud would send a message that Madison was not going to be bullied. If Marci wanted to keep her position on the team, the only way she could do it was by outplaying Madison.
    D D D
    Walking out of the locker room, Madison saw Jake standing with a bunch of guys from the boys’ team. Her black eye was pale yellow and purple by now, but she was sporting a fresh cut on her cheek courtesy of an intentionally thrown elbow, and there were more bruises on her arms and legs. Jake said good-bye to his friends and walked over.
    â€œAre you on the soccer team or the boxing team?” Jake asked with his usual wide grin.
    â€œI have a group of eighth graders determined to break my neck before we play our first game,” she answered angrily.
    â€œNo way. If you broke your neck, then I’d have to find your missing friend by myself, and I don’t even know what she looks like. So, have you called, emailed, and tried to get through on Facebook?”
    Madison sighed. “Yeah, all of the above. Now I think it’s time for me to try a low-tech approach.”
    â€œHuh?” Jake said.
    â€œYou know, actually going to her house,” Madison said. “It’s pretty close to school. Want to come? I mean, if you’re not busy . . .”
    â€œSure,” Jake said.
    Ann lived in Northwest Portland, a section of the city on the northern edge of downtown. Hip boutiques and cool restaurants clustered on 23rd and 21st streets, and the surrounding area was populated with a densely packed blend of fancy old houses and apartment buildings. After an easy twenty-minute walk, Madison and Jake approached Ann’s street. The houses were a mix of Victorians, Dutch Colonials, and other styles popular in the early part of the twentieth century, and all of them—except for one—had one thing in common: their lawns were mowed, their flower gardens were well tended, and none of them looked like they were in need of repair.
    Ann’s lawn looked like it hadn’t seen a mower in ages, the paint on the siding of the house was peeling, and the place looked deserted.
    â€œDoes Ann’s house always look like this?” Jake asked.
    â€œNo,” Madison replied nervously, “it usually looks great. Ann’s mom is always in the garden planting flowers and stuff, and her dad mows the lawn every weekend.” She looked at the unkempt grass again. “Well, at least he used to.”
    â€œThe house looks like it should be in a Friday the Thirteenth movie.”
    â€œAnn and her dad have been in Europe all summer. I guess her mom didn’t keep the place up.”
    Jake studied the house. “It doesn’t look like anyone’s home.”
    Suddenly, out of the corner of her eye, Madison thought she saw a light in a second-floor window. But when she turned her head, it was gone.
    â€œI thought I saw a light on upstairs,” Madison said, “but I can’t see anything now.”
    Jake followed her gaze. “In the daylight it’s hard to tell.”
    They walked up to the front door and Madison rang the bell. After a few moments with no answer, she tried knocking. Then she called out, “It’s Madison, Ann. Are you home?” There was still no answer. Shrugging her shoulders, Madison walked back to the front yard. The second-floor windows all looked dark, and Madison couldn’t see the light she thought she’d seen before.
    â€œI