The L.A. Dodger (5 page)

“You
always
save room for dessert,” Kate said.

“Sure,” said Mr. Hopkins. They walked over to the stand. Mike and Kate each took a soft
white paper cone piled high with the sticky, sugary candy. In no time, Mike’s mouth was flecked with gooey strands. Kate was pulling off clouds of the pink candy and neatly popping them in her mouth. She scanned the crowds for the Dodger but didn’t see him.

“Thanks, Dad!” Kate said as they headed to the apartment. “That was a really fun day.” Now that the sun was gone, the night was getting cooler. Kate was happy to be going back to the warmth of her father’s apartment.

Once they reached the apartment building, Mike opened the door and bounded up the stairs to the second floor. He turned right and raced down the hall toward Mr. Hopkins’s apartment.

But he stopped a few feet before he reached it. “Guys! Come quick!” he called. Kate and her
dad had just stepped out of the stairway. They jogged down the hallway to Mike.

The door to Mr. Hopkins’s apartment was wide open!

“You kids wait here,” Mr. Hopkins said. “I’ll go in and check it out.” He disappeared into the apartment. Mike and Kate waited outside.

Kate leaned over to look at the door frame. “See those scratches around the doorknob?” she asked. “I’ll bet the Dodger forced the door open with a screwdriver or crowbar or something. That’s why we didn’t see him at the restaurant or pier. He must have known we’d be at dinner and broke in!”

“Everything’s safe. You can come in,” Kate’s father called.

Mike and Kate went into the apartment. Mr. Hopkins was standing in the middle of
the living room. Mike could see that the stuff on his desk had been moved around.

“Nothing’s stolen, but they did go through all my papers,” Mr. Hopkins said. He brushed his hair back from his forehead and mopped his brow with the back of his hand. Then he pulled the small notebook from his shirt pocket. “Luckily, they didn’t get this. If it were stolen, I might lose my job!”

The next day, Kate and Mike slept late. At breakfast, there was no talk of the Dodger or the police. Mr. Hopkins seemed to have forgotten the previous night’s break-in. Kate tried to keep her father’s mind off it by asking a lot of questions about the Dodgers.

After breakfast, Mr. Hopkins locked the door securely. They had tickets for that afternoon’s game at Dodger Stadium, but Mr. Hopkins had planned a surprise stop.

As they drove through L.A., Mike watched the palm trees, taco stands, and car washes roll by. California looked very different from New York.

“We’re getting close,” said Mr. Hopkins. “Want a hint to where we’re going?”

“Yeah!” Kate said. She liked to know what was going on.

“This is easy,” Mr. Hopkins said. “Unless you haven’t been practicing your Spanish. Try these hints.
Negra. Brea.
”

Kate bit her lip and twirled her ponytail around her finger. “Hmmmm … 
negra
means
black,
” she said. “I think I’ve heard
brea
before, but I can’t remember what it means.”

Mr. Hopkins turned the car into a parking lot. On the other side was a large building. Next to it was a park with grass and trees. Heat simmered off the black parking area.

“Tar!” said Kate. “
Brea
means
tar
in Spanish, right, Dad?”

Mr. Hopkins nodded. “That’s right. Know where we are?”

“The La Brea Tar Pits!” Mike piped up.

Kate punched Mike’s leg. “Hey, no fair! How did you know?”

Mike pointed out his window to a big sign. “It says it right there,” he said. “You don’t always need to know Spanish. Sometimes you just have to be able to read!”

“Exactly,” Mr. Hopkins said. “The La Brea Tar Pits are a bunch of pools of black sticky tar. Tens of thousands of years ago, animals got caught in the tar and died. Now you can see their remains in this museum. I thought we’d have time for a quick look before the game.”

Mike jumped out of the car before Kate could punch him a second time. For the next
hour, Mike, Kate, and Mr. Hopkins explored the museum. They saw tar-covered bones of saber-toothed cats, wolves, and huge mammoths. They also visited Pit 91 in the nearby park, where black bubbles popped up from pools of slimy tar.

Kate could have stayed for another hour, but it was time to leave for Dodger Stadium. Mike, Kate, and Mr. Hopkins had lunch in the car and arrived at the stadium half an hour before game time. After showing their tickets, they made their way to a section right behind home plate.

“Wow! These are great seats,” Mike said. “Thanks, Uncle Steve.” He sat down in the bright yellow seat next to Kate and scanned the field for players. But batting practice had ended a short while before. The players were in the locker room getting ready.

Mr. Hopkins took out a program. Before he started reading, he checked his pocket again to make sure the notebook was safe. It was.

All around them, fans filed into their seats. Most wore blue Los Angeles Dodgers hats or T-shirts. But there were also a few
people with San Diego Padres hats, since the Dodgers were playing the Padres. Kate was wearing her school baseball hat. It had a big white
C
on it for
Cooperstown
.

“Psssst …” Mike felt something nudge his leg. It was Kate. “Keep an eye out for the Dodger. He’s got to be here somewhere,” she reminded him.

Mike and Kate spent a few minutes searching for a man with a white shirt and a blue Boston Red Sox baseball cap. Neither of them spotted the Dodger.

The loudspeaker crackled to life. “It’s time for Dodger baseball!” The fans roared. Mike and Kate stood up and cheered as the players took the field. The Dodgers pitcher quickly struck out the first San Diego batter.

In between batters, Mr. Hopkins told Kate and Mike all about the players and their
skills. As a baseball scout, he knew which players were strong hitters, which were good fielders, and which could run really fast.

The first two innings flew by. The Dodgers had runners on first and third bases with one out in the second inning. But the Padres pitcher struck out the next two batters and the inning ended. Nobody scored in the third. It was still 0–0.

Kate and Mike kept looking for the Dodger. After the third inning, Mike finally spotted something. He elbowed Kate.

“What?” Kate whispered. “Do you see him?”

“No. But I see a sign for Dodger Dogs!” Mike said. He pointed to the main concourse. “I’m hungry.”

Kate rolled her eyes. “Oh, come on, they’re just like any other ballpark hot dogs.”

“That means they’ll be good!” Mike said. He stood up. “Let’s go!”

“Okay,” Kate said. “But let’s try not to miss too much of the game.” Her dad gave them some money, and they started up the stairs toward the snack stands.

After a few steps, Mike stopped suddenly. Kate plowed straight into his back, and he almost lost his balance.

“Hey! Watch out!” Kate said.

Mike blushed. “Sorry,” he mumbled. Then he lowered his head and said in a whisper, “Follow me. But don’t act suspicious. Don’t look around.”

With that, he walked quickly up the steps as if nothing had happened. Kate scrambled to keep up. She finally caught him at the hot dog stand. Mike had just ordered two hot dogs.

“What was that about?” she asked.

Mike’s eyes opened wide. “I saw the Dodger! He’s sitting about five rows back
from us, but he’s wearing a red shirt and sunglasses today. That’s why we didn’t recognize him. But he still has the Boston hat and is carrying a black backpack.”

Kate took a look. “You’re right,” she said. “He must be staking out my father. He’s waiting for a chance to steal that notebook.”

Mike leaned back and tossed his baseball in his right hand. He was thinking again.

Kate continued to watch the Dodger. “We need to come up with a plan to catch him,” she said, tapping her fingers on the railing. “Any ideas?”

“I’ve got it!” Mike said. He tossed the baseball to his left hand. “Your notebook looks just like your dad’s, right? Maybe we can trick him into going after it. Let’s wait a few innings. Then we’ll come back here. You can hold out
your
notebook. The Dodger will
think it’s your dad’s, and he’ll follow us!”

“I like it,” Kate said. “Then what?”

“We’ll set a trap and capture him!” Mike said. “The black notebook will be our tar. He’ll try to take it, but he’ll be caught like a saber-toothed cat in the
brea
!”

“So how are your Dodger Dogs?” Kate’s dad asked. Kate and Mike scooted down the row and sat next to him.

“Really good,” Kate said.

“I finished mine already,” Mike said. He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. “Maybe it’s time for another!”

Kate groaned. “Not again! Aren’t you ever full?” she said.

By the end of the fifth inning, the Dodgers
had pulled ahead, 3–1. Their star batter, Jorge Valens, was at the plate with two outs and no one on base.

“Watch Valens,” Mr. Hopkins said to Mike and Kate. “He’s
really
speedy.”

The Padres pitcher threw a mean fastball straight toward the center of the plate.