"Beth," he whispered. He loved her name, the sound of it, the feel of it on his lips and tongue. "Beth-Beth-Beth-Beth-Beth."
They'd made love last night. Not just sex—love. Sweet and tender.
Not just two bodies, but two people with a connection. This morning they'd made love again, and it was even better.
After sitting in a coffee shop where they'd talked and talked, they'd split: Beth to a workshop and Sandy to the streets—he was still on sick leave; he just had to hope he didn't run into anyone from The Light while he was pounding the pavement.
He hated to leave her but all play and no work would very definitely make Sandy a dull boy. Very dull. But he and Beth would reunite tonight for dinner… and more.
As for the last forty-eight hours, Sandy could draw only one conclusion: anything was possible. And all things do come to those who wait.
That didn't make the task of finding the Savior any less daunting, but today he felt sure he'd succeed. He didn't know how long it would take but if he kept plugging he'd win the respect and renown he'd dreamed of. All he had to do was be patient. Rome wasn't built in a day.
He stopped before a bar named Julio's that sported a bunch of dead plants hanging in the window. The door stood open so Sandy stepped through. The dim interior, redolent of tobacco smoke and spilled beer, was bigger than he'd expected. The short bar curved around on his left; a sign hung over the stacked rows of liquor bottles: FREE BEER TOMORROW… He smiled; he liked that. But what was with all the dead plants?
Despite the early hour nearly half a dozen men stood at the bar smoking and sipping drafts. Sandy hesitated, then stepped up and placed his Identi-Kit printout before the nearest drinker.
"I'm looking for this man."
The fellow glanced at Sandy, then down at the printout, then back at Sandy. He had a worn middle-aged face, wore dusty work pants and a faded T-shirt that might have once sported a logo of some sort. A shot and most of an eight-ounce draft sat before him on the bar.
"Who the hell are you?"
Sandy was used to suspicious reactions. He went into his patter.
"I've been hired by the executor of his uncle's estate to find him. He's come into some money."
The man's eye's narrowed. "What's in it for me?"
Sandy couldn't count how many times he'd been asked that since he started searching. He'd finally come up with a reply that worked.
"Nothing from me, I'm afraid. I'm paid by the day. But that doesn't mean you can't work something out with this guy if you know him."
The man leaned toward Sandy. "You came to the right place," he whispered, his eyes shifting back and forth, his breath so sour Sandy had to grip the bar to keep from recoiling. "He's here right now."
Sandy jerked up straight and looked around. Oh, Christ! He's here? Right here?
But he saw no one who even vaguely resembled the man on the train.
"Where?"
"Right next to me!" the man said, then burst into a raucous laugh as he grabbed the printout and turned to his neighbor. "Ain't this you, Barney? Tell this fella here it's you and we'll both be rich!"
"Yeah that's me!" Barney cried. " 'Cept I'm better lookin'!"
Bastards, Sandy thought as they passed the sheet down the bar and back. Some of the others laughed, others just stared at him.
He held out his hand. "Very funny. Can I have it back now?"
"Naw," said the first drinker. "We're gonna keep this. Maybe start doin' our own search. Got any more?"
"That's my only one." Sandy had four more folded in his pocket but he wasn't about to let them know. "Please. I need it."
Barney said, "Hey, Lou, you know what I think? I think we should put my phone number on this, take it over to Staples, and get a hundred copies made. We plaster them all over the place and collect the reward."
No! Sandy thought, feeling a surge of panic. He couldn't lose control of that picture. It was his key!
"There is no reward! Now give it to me!"
He tried to grab the printout, reaching for it, but Lou roughly shoved his arm away.
"Watch it, kid. You spill my beer and I drink the next one out of your empty skull!"
"That's mine and I want it back!" Sandy said, his voice rising of its own accord. If he had to fight these old bastards he would. No one was going to screw up his future.
"Hey-hey!" said a new voice. '"What's going on, meng?"
Sandy looked around and saw a short muscular Hispanic in a sleeveless sweatshirt.
"Hey, Julio," Lou said, handing him the printout. "Fella here's lookin' for this guy. You ever seen him?"
Julio—Sandy assumed he was the Julio this dive was named after—said nothing for a long time, slowly smoothing his pencil-line mustache with his free hand as he stared at the paper. Then, without looking up, he began peppering Sandy with questions about who and why and what reward. Sandy gave his standard replies but they didn't seem to be flying.
"Yeah, I seen him," Julio said, finally looking at Sandy. His eyes were piercingly dark.
Sandy saw truth in those eyes and felt his heart pick up tempo.
"Where?"
"Not sure. Around. Tell you what, meng. I do you a favor. I hang this up by the bar and if anybody knows him, they call you. What your number?"
Sandy was about to give it to him when he noticed that Barney and Lou had somehow managed to position themselves between him and the door. And the three other men at the bar had all stopped talk and were staring his way.
Menace writhed through the air… something going on here…
"I…" Think. Think! "This is kind of embarrassing… I've been a little short lately and so my service was canceled."
"Too bad. You got more of these?"
"Not on me."
"Where you live?"
Sandy was alarmed at where these questions were going… they all seemed aimed at pinning down his location when they should have been about locating the man on the printout. What had he stumbled into here?
"I'm staying with a friend. She… she wouldn't like me giving out her address."
Oh, shit! he thought, wishing he could take that back. That didn't go with his story about his phone being turned off.
"I thinking now," Julio said. "I think I remember seeing this guy a lot in the park."
"What park? Central?'* That wasn't much help.
"No. Riverside."
That was even worse. Riverside Park ran along the Hudson for miles, from the Seventies up past the GW Bridge.
"Any particular area of the park?"
"Yeah. I think I seen him playing basketball a couple time. Right down here."
"This end of the park? Great."
"Yeah. You look there. Maybe you run into him."
"Thanks a lot." Sandy reached out a tentative hand. "Can I have my drawing back?"
"No," Julio said, folding it and sticking it in his back pocket. "I think I keep this one."
Sandy was about to protest but something in the little man's face told him that would be futile.
"I'd appreciate it if you wouldn't show that around until I find that man and talk to him."
"If that is your wish."
The reply startled Sandy. Why so agreeable all of a sudden?
Julio made a tight, almost imperceptible sweeping motion with his right hand and Sandy heard Lou and Barney move back to the bar.
Julio grinned. "And when you find this guy, you tell him Julio sent you and he wants ten percent, you hear?"
"You got it," Sandy said.
He turned and practically leaped through the door to the safety of the sidewalk. He headed west without a look back.