That had to be Mindy Conkel, Tom thought. He couldn’t have described her better himself.
“You don’t happen to know where she lives now, do you? She sounds like the same girl I’m looking for.”
Brad Thompson shook his head. “Nope. I haven’t seen her in a few years. She may have left town after Charlie got sent to prison.”
“Hmm, maybe you’re right. Oh well, it’s not the end of the world if I don’t find her. She used to have an uncle that owned a home improvement business somewhere near Columbus and I was trying to find out how to reach him. He supposedly does great work for reasonable rates but I can’t remember his name or the name of his business to save my life. We want to add a family room to our house.”
Tom knew this fabricated story sounded lame, but Brad didn’t catch on to it.
“Sorry I can’t help you more. Hey, you want to play some cutthroat?”
“Nah, I’d better get going. I’ve got to get back to Columbus before the wife reams me a new one.”
“I hear ya! I heard there’s supposed to be a big snowstorm coming sometime this evening. You sure as hell don’t want to get stuck in that.”
“For sure,” Tom replied. He killed the last of his Ultra and offered his hand to Brad.
“Hey, take care of yourself, man. It was great seeing you again.”
“You, too. Give me a call next time you’re in town and we’ll tie on a good one.”
“Will do. Nice meeting you, Lenny. See you around.”
Tom headed for the door, dropping his beer bottle off at the bar on the way. He noticed that the wind was picking up as he stepped outside, reminding him of what Brad had said about an approaching winter storm. He checked his watch: half past noon. He still had an hour or so before he should start heading back home.
Back in his Jeep, Tom was still reeling from what Brad Thompson had told him about Mindy and Charlie Gossett. He was absolutely numbed by the eerie coincidence. Not only had Mindy married a redneck hillbilly just like the fictitious Donnie Shortridge in his dream, her husband had ended up being a wife-beater and sent to prison for assault to boot!
What in the hell was that all about?
He hadn’t been prepared for this. Although his dream had had a certain ominous quality to it, he never expected to see a direct connection between what had happened in the dream and reality. The girl named Erin in the dream had nothing whatsoever to do with the Erin in the real world-he had simply assigned Erin Landry’s face to a fabricated character named Erin Myers, a by-product of his poison fume-fueled imagination.
But now, the more he thought about Mindy Conkel and her real life crazy, violent husband, or ex-husband, the more nervous he got.
Would he be better off leaving well enough alone? Get out of Dodge City before he got himself into REAL trouble?
Tom now wished that he hadn’t drank that beer. Because he wouldn’t mind having a few more right this moment.
He pulled up to the traffic light on the corner of Second Street and waited for it to turn green, staring across the street at the bridge crossing the Ohio River into Kentucky. Something about all of this crazy shit had some kind of hold on him. That much he knew. And he would never know what it was if he backed down now.
The light changed and Tom hung a right. Two blocks later he spotted a convenience store and pulled into the parking lot. He got out and entered the store, glancing around for a pay phone. He spotted one near the coffee machine and headed for it. He picked up the phone book and shuffled through the pages.
He found the G’s and looked for any listing that could be Mindy’s. There was only one Gossett listed: a Floyd Gossett with a West Smithtown exchange. His only hope now was that Floyd was a relative of Charlie’s and willing to tell him where Charlie’s estranged wife lived.
He was hoping for a miracle, he realized.
The store employee was staring at him so Tom decided to use the pay phone to call Floyd instead of pulling out his cell phone. He found a quarter in his pocket, dropped it in the slot and dialed the number.
Six rings later, a thin raspy voice said, “Yellow.”
“Is this the Gossett residence?”
“Uh huh.”
“Hi, I’m trying to locate Mindy Gossett and was wondering if you by any chance know her whereabouts,” Tom said, crossing his fingers.
“What’s that you say?” the man said, apparently hard of hearing.
Tom upped the volume to his voice. “I said I’m looking for Mindy Gossett and wondered if you might know how I can reach her.”
“Mindy, you say? Now what would you be a-wantin’ with her?”
“I would just like to talk to her about something. Do you know how I could contact her?”
“Who is this?” the man asked suspiciously. “This ain’t one of Charlie’s friends, is it?”
“No, sir. I’m an old friend of Mindy’s. I haven’t seen her in a long time and would like to talk to her if I may.”
“And what would be your name?”
“Tom. Tom Grayson.”
“Well Tim, I’m not so sure that’s such a good idea. You see, I don’t want nobody botherin’ that poor gal and since I don’t know you from the man in the moon, I’m not gonna give you no help. That goddamn son of mine has done screwed up her life already and I ain’t gonna let another Gossett screw her over again.”
Jesus, Tom thought, it was Charlie’s father! And he had just given him his name like an idiot-Charlie will probably want to kill him when he gets out of prison!
Or maybe not. Charlie’s father didn’t exactly sound like he was particularly pleased with his son-in fact, quite the contrary.
“Mr. Gossett, I can assure you that I mean no harm to Mindy. If it would make you feel any better, maybe you could let her know I was looking for her and ask her if she would be opposed to meeting with me. Then, if it’s all right with her, I could call you back and you could tell me how to find her.”
There was a moment of silence before the man spoke again.
“I reckon that would be okay, long as it’s okay with the girl. I’ll give her a call and tell her you’re wantin’ to talk to her. What was that name again? Tim Anderson?”
“No, Tom Grayson.”
“Okay, I’ll pass that on to her.”
“When should I call you back?”
“Give me ten minutes, son.”
“Thanks, Mr. Gossett. I’ll call you back then.”
Tom was ecstatic as he hung up the phone. He had finally found her!
He went over to one of the coolers and took out a bottle of Ice Mountain, paid for it and left the store. After he was back in the Jeep, he realized that he’d forgotten Gossett’s telephone number. He grabbed a pencil and paper from the dash compartment, ran back into the store, located the number in the phone book and jotted it down. As he returned to the Jeep, he hoped that Mr. Gossett got his name right when he spoke to Mindy and that she would be willing to see him, or at least allow him to talk to her.
Screwing off the cap, Tom took a huge gulp of cold water and looked out ahead, noticing that it was clouding up. He started thinking about Peg and how she would react if she knew that he was in Smithtown hunting down some chick from his past instead of at the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame in Cleveland with Frank.
He felt faint as he realized just how absurd this whole situation had gotten and how much deeper he was getting into it by the minute. What was driving him to do all of this, running around like a madman trying to make sense of something that seemed so utterly senseless? Was it worth the risks he was taking with his marriage and his family, the most important things in his life?
The cell phone rang and simultaneously danced around like a hooked catfish on the Jeep’s console, causing him to spill his water on his lap. He picked it up and read the caller ID It was Peg!
In a panic, he debated whether or not to take the call. At first he wasn’t going to-Peg would just assume that he didn’t hear the phone or had forgotten to turn it on. Then he changed his mind. What if something bad had happened?