Come Out Tonight

  So far, Sherry couldn’t see whether this van carried such a slogan.

  Finally, she stepped behind it.

  I’D RATHER BE READING.

  His, all right.

  Now we’ll find out what’s going on.

  Hopeful but nervous, Sherry hurried to the front of the van and peered into the driver’s side window.

  The seats were empty.

  He must still be in the store.

  She stepped around the rear of the van and headed for the Speed-D-Mart’s entrance. As she neared the door, a man came shuffling toward her from the area in front of the laundromat. In spite of the heat, he wore heavy clothes, a toque and boots. His clothes looked filthy. His face and hands were mired with grime. His dirty hair and beard were so stiff that the powerful wind hardly moved them.

  “How ’bout a quarter, lady? Ain’t had me a bite t’eat in two days.”

  Shaking her head, she muttered, “Sorry,” dodged him and rushed into the store.

  It was brightly lit, strangely silent.

  She glanced back to make sure the beggar wasn’t coming in after her. He was wandering toward the laundromat.

  Maybe he should try making use of it.

  Sherry felt ashamed of herself for thinking such a thing. But she resented being confronted by such people. You couldn’t go anywhere in Los Angeles without having them creep out of shadows to accost you for money. From investigations she’d seen on the TV, she knew that plenty of the beggars were fakes. Some of them made a lot more money than she did.

  And many of them were dangerous.

  At the counter, the clerk was busy ringing up a sale. The husky customer getting ready to pay him wore curlers in her hair.

  Turning slowly, Sherry scanned the store. Its rows of shelves were only chest-high. She saw the heads of four customers.

  No Duane.

  But she couldn’t be sure he wasn’t somewhere in the store—maybe crouching to study items on a bottom shelf—so she began to walk up the nearest aisle.

  The shelves to her left carried toiletries.

  Curious, she stopped and studied the selection: combs, toothbrushes, toothpaste, deodorants, razors and shaving cream, bandages, antiseptics, condoms.

  Condoms.

  Half a dozen varieties, in neat little packages, hung from a rack on the top shelf.

  They’re right here, she thought. Duane must’ve found them.

  But where is he?

  She resumed her search, walking slowly up one aisle and down the next. It didn’t take long. When she finished, she knew for certain that Duane was not in the store.

  She walked back to the first aisle.

  Though the store was nearly deserted, a guy had stationed himself in front of the toiletries section.

  Terrific, Sherry thought.

  Just ignore him.

  She stepped around him, turned, reached out and plucked a pack of condoms off the rack.

  The stranger paid no attention.

  Blushing, she hurried away and headed for the checkout counter.

  A customer was already there, waiting while the cashier bagged a six-pack of Budweiser.

  Sherry opened her purse and pulled out her billfold.

  Picking up his bag, the customer headed for the door.

  Sherry stepped forward and placed her box of condoms on the counter.

  The cashier looked at it. Then he raised his brown eyes to Sherry and smiled. “Will that be all, my friend?” he asked, his voice lilting like a native of India.

  “That’ll be it.”

  He punched a few keys on his cash register and mumbled the total. Sherry handed over a ten-dollar bill. As she took her change, the cashier asked, “Would you perhaps like a bag for that?”

  “No, that’s all right. You mind if I ask you something?”

  “Oh, not in the least. Please do ask.”

  “I’m looking for a guy who probably came in here about an hour ago. He might’ve bought some of these, too.” She picked up the box of condoms and held it in front of the cashier.

  “I see,” he said.

  “Were you here an hour ago?”

  “Oh, most certainly.”

  “Do you remember him? He would’ve been wearing a blue shirt and tan shorts.”

  “Oh, yes, I remember him well. He was most amusing. I think you must be the lucky girl he spoke of. Am I right?”

  Blushing, she said, “Maybe. Do you know what time he left?”

  “Oh, some time ago.”

  “He never came home. His van’s still in your parking lot.”

  Somebody stepped up behind Sherry. She looked over her shoulder. It was the guy from the toiletries area. He smiled a polite greeting. Sherry nodded to him, then faced forward.

  “Was anyone with him?” she asked.

  “Who?”

  “The guy we were talking about. Did you see him with anyone?”

  “Oh. I shouldn’t think so, no. No, I saw him with no one.”

  “Nothing funny happened?”

  “Funny? No. I’m afraid not.” He glanced at the waiting customer.

  “Thanks,” Sherry said. Stepping away from the counter, she slipped her billfold and condoms into her purse.

  Okay, she thought. Duane was here. By himself. He bought condoms and left, and the clerk didn’t notice anything strange.

  Whatever happened must’ve been after Duane left the store.

  If the clerk’s telling the truth.

  Why should he lie?

  He might have reasons, she told herself. But let’s just assume for now that he told the truth.

  Sherry pushed open the door and stepped outside.

  No sign of the bum.

  Thank God for that, anyway.

  She turned to the left and followed the walkway to the laundromat. Through its glass front, she saw eight or nine people. Some were busy at the machines, but most were just waiting for their loads to finish. Some leafed through magazines, one read a paperback, another talked on a cell phone, and a few were chatting.

  Duane had no reason to be in the laundromat.

  But he was a friendly, talkative guy. Someone from the laundromat might’ve asked him for change, for a helping hand, and maybe they’d started talking…

  And he let an hour slip by?

  Duane had done that sort of thing before.

  But he wouldn’t do it tonight, Sherry told herself. Not with me waiting like that.

  He didn’t seem to be in the laundromat.

  Maybe somebody saw him.

  She started toward the open door. As she stepped past the front of a parked car, its horn tooted.

  She flinched.

  Jerking her head to the right, she saw a kid in the driver’s seat. He smiled and waved at her through the windshield.

  Do I know him?

  He opened the door and climbed out. “Hi, teacher!”

  “Hi.”

  He was a tubby, cheerful-looking guy, maybe seventeen or eighteen years old. His brown hair was shaggy and windblown. Like so many guys his age, he wore a T-shirt underneath an open, long-sleeved shirt. The open shirt blew behind him as he came toward Sherry.

  “Didn’t you sub for Mr. Chambers last week?” he asked.

  Sherry nodded. “You must’ve been in one of his classes.”

  “Third period. Hope I didn’t scare you with the horn.”

  “Just a little.”

  “Sorry. I was just so surprised to see you. It’s so weird when you run into a teacher in real life.”

  “We’re just people, too.”

  “But it’s weird, though. Do you live around here or something?”

  “Not too far away.”

  “I can’t think of your name,” he said.

  Smiling, she held out her hand. “Sherry Gates.”

  “Ah! Right! Miss Gates! Now I remember!” He shook her hand and said, “I’m Toby Bones.”

  “You’re Toby Bones. I remember your name from the roll book. It’s a very unusua
l one.”

  “Thanks. Everybody…uh…sure has a lot of fun with it.”

  “Envy.”

  He shrugged his heavy shoulders.

  “Have you been here long, Toby?”

  “Where?”

  Sherry spread her hands. “Here.”

  “Oh, I don’t know. I came over to do my wash.”

  “Have you done it yet?” she asked.

  “Just finished. I was all set to leave, but then I saw you come out of the store.”

  “So you’ve been here for an hour, maybe?”

  “Something like that.”

  “The reason I’m asking, I’m looking for someone. A friend of mine. He came over about an hour ago to pick up something at the Speed-D-Mart, and now I can’t find him.”

  Toby’s brow furrowed. “What do you mean, you can’t find him?”

  “He was only supposed to be gone for ten or fifteen minutes, so I finally got worried and came over to look for him. His van’s still here. He apparently showed up a long time ago and bought his cigarettes and left the store. But he never drove away. His van is still here, but he isn’t.”

  Frowning, Toby studied the parking lot. “I don’t see no van.”

  Any van, she thought. But she didn’t correct him.

  “It’s around the side,” she explained.

  “Ah.” He nodded.

  “You might’ve been here at the same time he was. I’m just wondering if maybe you saw him.”

  “I don’t know. What’s he look like?”

  “He’s about twenty-eight, six feet tall, slender, good-looking. Brown hair.”

  “Long or short?”

  “His hair? It’s longer than mine…a little shorter than yours. He was wearing a blue shirt and tan shorts.”

  “Oh, yeah, I saw that guy.”

  “You did?”

  “I don’t know about any van, though. When I saw him, he was walking off down the street.” He nodded toward the corner of Robertson and Airdrome. “He crossed over to the other side and went on down the road there.”

  “Down Robertson?”

  “Yeah.”

  “He walked south?”

  “Is that south? Yeah, I guess so. Anyhow, that’s which way he went.”

  “But he lives the other way.”

  Toby shrugged. “I’m just saying what I saw.”

  “He went that way on foot?”

  “Yeah.”

  Sherry scowled toward the street corner.

  Why on earth would Duane walk in the wrong direction?

  “Maybe it wasn’t him,” she said.

  “Maybe. I don’t know. You know what he looked like? Sort of like Han Solo. You know? Like Harrison Ford back then.”

  Sherry felt her stomach sink.

  “That’s him, all right,” she said. “But I don’t get it. He leaves his van here and walks in the wrong direction?”

  It broke down so he set off to find a service station?

  That made no sense at all. If it broke down, he would’ve walked back to his apartment. Besides, what service station could he possibly go to? Nothing like that would be open at this time of night.

  “I just don’t get it,” Sherry said.

  “Well…” Lowering his eyes, Toby shook his head.

  “What?”

  He grimaced. “The guy I saw? Your friend? He didn’t exactly walk off by himself.”

  Chapter Five

  “He left with someone?” Sherry asked. “Who?”

  “I don’t know,” Toby said. “Some other guy.”

  “What sort of guy?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Maybe you should just tell me what you saw. Just describe it all to me from the time you first saw Duane.”

  “Is Duane your friend’s name?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Well, I guess I first saw him when he was coming out of the Speed-D-Mart. I was out here. You know, waiting for my stuff to get done in the washing machine. I don’t like to sit around inside there very much. These people look at you, you know? Sometimes they’re pretty weird. And a lot of them smoke. I don’t like to smell that stuff.”

  “Sounds like you’re an old hand at doing the laundry.”

  “Yeah, I been doing it a while. To help out my mom, you know? I didn’t want her coming here anymore, not after she got attacked that time.”

  “Attacked?”

  “Yeah. Last year. A couple of guys came in and…you know, assaulted her. Raped her.”

  “My God.”

  “It was pretty bad.”

  “Right here at this place?”

  “Yeah. Right inside there. Well, more toward the back. She was all alone and these guys came in…” He shook his head, then said, “Anyway, ever since then I’ve made her stay home and I come over and do the wash.”

  “That’s a really nice thing to do for her.”

  He shrugged.

  “Brave, too.”

  “Yeah, well…I can take care of myself.” A smile spread across his pudgy face. “Anyway, nobody’s gonna rape me. You don’t even gotta worry about fags when you’re a fat slob like me.”

  Trying to smile, Sherry said, “Oh, you look fine.”

  “Yeah, sure.”

  “Anyway, it’s awful what happened to your mother. Is she all right now?”

  “Sort of. Except she’s scared all the time. Like she’s afraid it’ll happen again, or something.”

  “It must’ve been terrible for her.”

  “Yeah. So anyway, that’s why I do the wash.”

  “And you were standing here when Duane came out of the store…?”

  “Yeah. I guess he’d bought something. He was carrying a little bag.”

  “His cigarettes,” Sherry said.

  “Yeah. You said his van’s over there?”

  She nodded.

  “That’s which way he started to go. But then this other guy came along and they started talking.”

  “Where did he come from?”

  “Inside the store, I think. Yeah. He came out right after Wayne…”

  “Duane.”

  “Oh. Duane. Okay. The way it happened, I thought maybe they were together and the other guy was just slower at coming out.”

  “You got the impression they knew each other?”

  Toby nodded. “Yeah, like they were friends.”

  “Did you hear what they said?”

  “Nah. It was too noisy. The wind and everything. Cars going by. And it wasn’t like they were yelling.”

  “How long did they talk?”

  “I don’t know. Couple of minutes. Then they walked over to the corner and crossed the street and kept on going and that was the last I saw of them.”

  “You thought they looked like friends?” Sherry asked.

  “Yeah. You want to know the truth, I sort of figured they were boyfriends.”

  “What made you think that?”

  Toby shrugged. “I don’t know. Two guys together. This time of night. And the other guy, he looked sort of faggy.”

  This kid could really use some sensitivity training, Sherry thought.

  “What do you mean?” she asked.

  “You know. The way he walked, and stuff. Swishy. And he was wearing this shirt that looked like it was made out of a basketball net. You could see right through it. He had…” Toby grimaced, shook his head, then said, “Rings. Through his nipples. And he wore these tiny little shorts. And sandals.”

  “You must’ve gotten a pretty good look at him.”

  “You see a guy like that, it’s sort of hard not to stare.”

  “How old do you think he was?”

  “I don’t know, twenty-five or thirty. He had white hair, but it was probably a bleach job.”

  “He was a white guy?”

  “Oh, yeah.”

  “What about his height and weight?”

  “He was a little taller than Duane. I don’t know about the weight. He was big, though. Like a body builder. Had t
hese huge muscles everywhere.”

  “Doesn’t sound like anyone I know,” Sherry said.

  “Duane seemed to know him, though. I mean, the guy put his hand on Duane’s shoulder when they were walking away.”

  “What’d Duane do?”

  “Nothing. Sort of smiled at him.”

  Sherry stared at Toby, vaguely aware of frowning and shaking her head.

  Duane walked off down the street with a gay boyfriend?

  “It’s crazy,” she muttered.

  “You okay?” Toby asked.

  “Yeah. Fine. Just…a little shocked.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  “That’s all right.”

  “Maybe the guy I saw wasn’t your friend. Maybe he just looked like him or something.”

  “I don’t know. Maybe. Is it possible that what you saw might’ve been some kind of abduction?”

  “You mean like when aliens—?”

  “Like a kidnapping. Maybe this guy was forcing Duane to go with him.”

  “Sure didn’t look that way.”

  “Did you see any weapons?”

  “Huh-uh.”

  “But a big guy like that, he might not need a weapon. If he was a huge, muscular guy like you said.”

  “Oh, yeah, he was. But it didn’t look like any kidnapping. I mean, your friend was all smiling and stuff.”

  “It’s insane,” she muttered.

  Toby suddenly raised his eyebrows. “You know what? Maybe we can find them. I mean, they went off on foot. If they’re still walking and we take my car, we might catch up with them.”

  “How long ago did they leave?”

  “I guess forty, forty-five minutes ago.”

  “That’s a long time.”

  Toby shrugged. “I’m all done with my stuff. If you want, I’ll drive you around for a few minutes before I go home.”

  “Thanks, but you don’t have to do that.”

  “I don’t mind. You want to find him, don’t you?”

  “Sure, but…You should probably be getting home.”

  “It’s okay. No school tomorrow.”

  “We don’t want your mother to worry.”

  “Ah, she’s asleep by now, anyway. She won’t know what time I get home.”

  “Well…If you’re sure you really want to do this…”

  “Sure. Hop in.”

  “Okay. Thanks.” Sherry hurried to the passenger door. It wasn’t locked. She opened it and climbed into the car while Toby went around to the other side and dropped down behind the steering wheel.