Tim headed for the kitchen with a scowl on his face and a bad case of morning breath. He ignored his father, who was already camped in his chair and having a wake-me-up cigarette in front of CNN. Tim couldn’t be bothered taking the time to make coffee, so he poured himself a glass of orange juice. He returned to the living room and slouched in an armchair for the express purpose of using the tube to numb his mind.
It was not to be.
“How’d your bike ride with Rob go yesterday?” Eldon said.
“Fine.”
Tim’s eyes never left the TV.
The elder Whitlock squinted at Tim and took a pull on the cigarette. He blew out the smoke and then said, “Who pissed in your corn flakes this morning?”
Tim ignored him. He was still smarting from how Lesley had shot down his idea of going away for the weekend. Maybe he had pushed too hard. She wasn’t ready yet. He’d have to take it easier, gentle her along. Still, that was one incredible kiss. He could still feel her body mashed into his. Something to build on, for sure. So why did he feel like he had blown it?
“You and Rob must’ve had plenty to talk about,” Eldon said, “what with the stuff he’s got going on.”
Tim wiped orange juice from his upper lip.
“That’s all you talk about lately,” Tim said.
“I figured you’d be the first one clapping Rob on the back. You’ve complained enough about them idiots at the bank.”
Tim’s eye’s narrowed. “You really think he did a good thing?”
“After how them bank bastards screwed up our entire economy? Someone should pin a goddamn medal on his chest.”
Tim swiveled his head and gave his father an appraising gaze. Was it possible Tim had just received a second-hand compliment?
“What would you think,” he said, “if I had done something like that?”
Eldon’s cigarette paused halfway to his mouth. He lowered it and looked at Tim.
“What?” his father said. “You mean some computer hacker thing where you end up in jail?”
“Well that’s what Rob did, right?”
“You wouldn’t be so stupid.”
The contemptuous look on his father’s face made Tim bristle. He had seen that look many times and loathed it.
“Oh,” Tim said, “so when Rob does it, he should get a medal, but if I did it, it’d be a stupid thing to do.”
Eldon gave him a dismissive wave of his good hand.
“It’d be stupid no matter who did it.”
Tim’s face grew hot. “But that’s not what you said. According to you, it’s only dumb if I’m involved.”
“Whatever,” Eldon said.
“I’m tired of you putting me down like that.”
Now the irritation showed plainly on Eldon’s face as well.
“Who cares,” he said. “It’s not like you’d have the guts to take on the bank like Rob did anyway.”
Tim ground his teeth together. Rising from his seat, he hissed at his father.
“You have no idea what you’re talking about.”
He hurried out to the kitchen and grabbed his keys from the hook in the hallway. The door slammed behind him as he left.
Dysart put the carton of orange juice back in the refrigerator and returned to the glass he had just poured. He took a sip and considered adding a shot of something stronger. Normally such a thought wouldn’t occur to him so early on a Saturday morning but things were anything but normal. He had barely slept all night. His head felt like it was stuffed with pink insulation and soon he had to go to the bank to deal with one unsolvable crisis after another.
His special cell phone rang, causing Dysart’s heart to pitter pat a little more quickly. He snatched the phone up and said, “Talk to me.”
“I finally caught up with the cab driver,” Landry said.
“And?”
“He dropped our young man off last night out in Newton. Corner of Centre Street and Allerton Road, not far from Newton Center. There’s a bunch of houses nearby but the cabbie didn’t see which one he was headed for.”
Lesley shuffled into the kitchen looking bleary-eyed. She raised one hand in mute greeting to her uncle
“So no success yet?” Dysart said, keeping his words purposefully vague for Lesley’s benefit.
“I was hoping you might know who he’d be going to see in that neighborhood.”
“How should I know?”
“Anyone you can ask?”
Lesley put two halves of an English muffin in the toaster.
“Absolutely,” Dysart said. “I’ll get back to you.”
He hung up.
“Who was that?” Lesley said.
“No one you know. How are you feeling?”
She shrugged and pulled a tub of margarine out of the refrigerator.
“I still haven’t heard back from Rob,” Dysart said.
“I’m not surprised. He’s making a habit of acting weird lately.”
“He said one thing when he called last night that might be a clue as to what’s going on.”
The English muffins popped up. Lesley started spreading. Dysart took her silence to mean she was still listening. He carried on.
“Do you know anyone who lives handy to Newton Center, near a street named Allerton Road?”
“Something about that name sounds familiar.” She put her plate on the table and went to get a glass from the cupboard. “Why do you want to know?”
“That’s where he wanted me to take him.”
Lesley paused with empty glass in hand and thought for a moment, then her brows knit and a rose of indignation formed on her face.
“Son of a … I’ll kill him.”
“What?” Dysart said.
“It figures he’d run to her.”
“Who?”
“Kirsten Glanville. Rob went out with her when we broke up for a while in college. She lives right around there someplace, or at least she used to.”
“Do you know the address, or her phone number?”
“Who cares,” Lesley said.
“I might. Rob sounded upset last night when he called, like he was in some kind of trouble. I’d like to at least talk to him, find out if he’s okay.”
“Oh I’m sure he’s well looked after.”
“So has she got an apartment or what?”
Lesley sighed. “Yeah. Up on the third floor of this huge old house on Allerton.”
Dysart kissed her on the forehead.
“Enjoy your breakfast,” he said.
He left her to glower at her untouched food and headed for the privacy of his home office to call Landry back.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
Rob pulled into the parking lot of a Walgreens with the red Saturn he had borrowed from Kirsten. She needed it back in time to make it to the four-to-ten shift at the bookstore where she worked. Until then, Rob had wheels. He also had her cell phone, which he opened and dialed.
Sheila answered. “I was beginning to think you’d never call,” she said.
“Is Stan home?”
“He had to go in to the bank. He’s anxious to talk to you, though. Made me promise I’d get you to call him on his cell if I heard from you.”
“Okay, I’ll do that.”
“What happened last night? Stan said you were in some kind of trouble but then he couldn’t find you.”
“That’s why I called,” Rob said, “to tell him why I stood him up.”
Rob gave her a quick and dirty version of the evening’s events. He heard her gasp a couple of times during the telling.
“That’s awful,” Sheila said when he was done.
“But it’s all over now and I’m okay.”
“Thank goodness.”
“So I’ll give Stan a call.”
“Wait,” Sheila said. “Before you go … just hang on a moment.”
She put the receiver down. Rob heard muffled voices some distance from the phone. It sounded like two people having a disagreement. Someone picked up the phone a few seconds later and said, “Hello Rob.”