Thursday's Child (18 page)

He didn't say anything, because he didn't know how serious he was.

The phone rang.

“I don't feel like talking to anybody,” he said. “Get that, will you?”

She stood and went to answer his phone. About three minutes later, she came back into the room. “That was Mr. McClure,” she said in a very soft voice.

Gar moaned. “If Tammi has gone missing again, he'll have to hire somebody else to track her down this time. I'm too busy.”

Mickey shook her head. “It's not that.” She stood there for a moment not saying anything.

Gar felt a spasm of something—fear, maybe?—go through him. “What, then?”

“She killed herself, Gar. Last night. An overdose of her mother's sleeping pills.”

Gar bent forward a little, as if someone had gut-kicked him. “Fuck,” he said. “Fuckfuckfuck.”

Mickey came over and sat next to him again. She took his hand and held it tightly between both of hers. “You okay?”

After a moment, he nodded. “I'm fine.” But he wasn't fine at all, and she knew it. “I have to go see Saul Epstein,” he said suddenly.

“To quit the case?”

Gar shook his head. “No. No, not to quit. I'm going to find Beau, damn it. And it's time we got some publicity, no matter what the old man thinks.” He stood.

“Are you going now? It's pretty late.”

“So Saul Epstein gets out of bed. This is his grandson, for Chrissake. This boy is all he has left. He can get out of bed.”

She nodded. “I'll wait up for you.”

He bent to kiss the top of her head. “Thank you.”

A black man in a neatly tied robe opened the door after Gar had knocked for several minutes. He didn't want to wake his boss at first, but when Gar made it clear that he wasn't budging until the old man appeared, the butler went to get him.

It took nearly fifteen minutes for Saul Epstein to appear. He wore a velvet smoking jacket and leather slippers, and his hair was neatly combed. “Have you found my grandson?” he asked immediately.

“No.”

Epstein nodded and they walked into the library. The black man had already produced a pot of coffee and two cups. He served them and then slipped out of the room. “What is the news, then?” Epstein asked. “It must be important for you to come here at this hour.”

“It's important. Mr. Epstein, I want you to bring the cops in on this. And the press. I want some publicity.”

Epstein frowned. “I thought it was made clear that I wanted to keep this a family matter.” He drank a little coffee. “And no matter what you might be thinking, Mr. Sinclair, this is as much for Beau's sake as for mine. The position I occupy, the publicity couldn't hurt me. But Beau is just a boy. I don't want to do anything that might mess up his life.”

“But what you don't know is that this whole thing has gone way beyond just a simple runaway kid.” The coffee burned the tip of his tongue and he paused. “I think that Beau is in big trouble.”

“What kind of trouble?”

He sucked on his sore tongue briefly. “He's been seen at the sites of two murders. Possibly in the company of the killer. Willingly or unwillingly, I don't know. But we have to move quickly, before it's too late to save him.”

Epstein looked much older than he had moments ago. “Beau? With a killer? You don't think he …?”

Gar shrugged. “As far as I know, he's not killing anybody. I think the boy is probably a hostage.” He wasn't sure about that, but there wasn't any sense in laying too much on the old man right now.

“There haven't been any ransom demands.”

“Well, that doesn't mean much. Look, whatever is going on, we need some publicity.”

After a moment, Epstein nodded. “I'll take care of it.”

“Fine.” Gar finished the coffee and stood. “I'll be in touch,” he said.

“We have to find Beau,” Epstein said. “I don't care what it costs or what has to be done. I want my grandson safe.”

“I know,” Gar said. The face of Tammi McClure flashed through his mind. And then the face of his own daughter. All the lost ones. “I'll find him,” he said.

It was the first time he'd ever promised.

15

1

It was surprising and maybe even a little scary just how quickly the strange could become routine. Robert was thinking about that as he automatically set the breakfast table for two and waited for Beau to come out of the shower. After living alone for so long, he couldn't quite understand why the situation felt this comfortable so fast. Given the circumstances, the two of them seemed to be getting along fine. Robert even admitted to himself that he sort of liked having the kid around.

Not that he would ever say so out loud. But it was almost as if the clock had been turned back and Andy were here again. Then he felt a little disloyal for even thinking something like that. Beau wasn't Andy. Beau was just a kid he was stuck with temporarily. Still, it was nice.

He poured a cup of coffee and sat down with the newspaper.

A few minutes later, Beau came into the room, moving as usual with a certain manic speed. He sat down and reached for the Wheaties. “I just thought of something,” he said.

“What's that?” Robert said absently.

“Today's my birthday.”

He lowered the paper. “No shit?”

“No shit. I'm sixteen.”

“Terrific.” Sixteen. God, he was still such a baby. Robert felt a stab of what almost felt like guilt over what he was doing to someone who was still, basically, a child. It would probably be called corrupting the morals of a minor or something. Wonderful. He set the newspaper aside and started eating. Maybe because of that stab of guilt, he said, “Since it's such a big day, we should do something special.”

Beau stopped with a spoon halfway to his mouth. “Like what?”

“Hell, I don't know. Something.” He chewed cereal and thought about it. Then he got an idea, God knew from where. “Have you ever been to Disneyland?”

Beau shook his head.

“Well, neither have I.” Once, a long time ago, he and Andy were supposed to go, but for some reason he'd now forgotten, they never made it. He hadn't ever even thought about going since then. “How about we hit the freaking Magic Kingdom today?”

“For real?”

“Sure.”

Beau smiled. “Wild.”

Wild. Yeah, you could say that. Disneyland and birthdays and who knew what next. There were people in this town who would find the idea of Robert Turcheck playing whatever the hell game he was playing here pretty damned funny.

He had planned on talking to one of those people this very day, in fact. But Camden Hunt would have to wait twenty-four hours. It was almost like a reprieve for the old buddy of Danny Boyd. Robert hoped that Hunt appreciated that.

Traffic on both the Santa Monica and Santa Ana freeways was moving with unusual speed, so the trip to Anaheim was easier than he'd expected it to be. Robert was beginning to feel a little stupid about this. What the hell was he thinking? The last thing in the world he wanted to do was spend the whole damned day at Mickey-fucking-Mouseville. He had important things to do. As his doubts grew, he almost changed his mind and headed for the nearest off-ramp. A glance at Beau's face kept him heading toward Anaheim. So, give the kid a little fun. What could it hurt?

Nothing. Except maybe his wallet.

Getting a parking place in the vast lot was a couple of bucks. Then he had to cough up twenty apiece just for them to get through the gate. They better have a lot of damned fun, he thought, after laying out over forty dollars in the first five minutes.

They paused as Beau bent over the detailed map of the park, deciding where they should begin this adventure. His choice was Pirates of the Caribbean and several choruses of “Yo-ho, Yo-ho, a Pirate's Life for Me.” Robert felt very much out of place crowded in with what felt like every damned happy family in the country, but Beau didn't seem to mind. “Pretty neat, huh?” he said at one point.

Robert nodded.

Maybe Beau was playing a game, too. The game that they were a happy family.

Everything in the park was painfully clean, kept that way by what seemed to be an army of white-suited young people with brooms and dustpans. “Maybe I could get a job here,” Beau said thoughtfully, watching them work.

Robert looked at a bright-faced, obviously Republican kid sweeping up a stray candy wrapper. Then he looked at Beau. “You'd have to cut your hair,” he said dryly.

“Yeah, I guess so. And they probably wouldn't let me wear an earring like yours, either.”

“You don't have an earring,” Robert pointed out.

Beau only grinned and shrugged.

They stopped for some lemonade and freshly baked cookies and Robert had a cigarette. Beau, he thought, was looking more as if he'd just turned ten instead of sixteen. And, although it irritated him to admit it, Robert realized that he was having fun, too. It had been a very long time since he'd relaxed this completely, maybe not since those long-ago summer afternoons watching Andy pitch. For this one day, at least, there was no pressure. The job was forgotten, the search for Danny Boyd was set aside, and even the memory of a mounting pile of messages from Maureen didn't annoy him.

They decided to get really brave and ride the big Space Mountain coaster. Neither of them had ever been on a roller coaster before, so as they settled side by side into the rocket-shaped car, enthusiasm was tempered slightly by nervousness. The thirty-two-mile-per-hour journey, most of which took place in pitch-darkness with stars whizzing by on all sides, left Beau red-faced and breathless. Robert was glad that, this once, he'd left his gun at home.

A moment later, however, he was wishing like hell that he hadn't been stupid enough to leave his gun in the closet.

He recognized Pete Franco immediately, although it was hard to imagine what a two-bit triggerman like him was doing hanging out in the Magic Kingdom. Unless, of course, he was there because Robert was.

Robert swore softly.

“What's wrong?” Beau asked instantly.

“Nothing. Just … nothing.” He shoved Beau in the direction of a refreshment stand. At the counter, he stepped in front of a woman about to order, silenced her complaint with a glance, and ordered a Coke. He handed the paper cup to Beau. “Stay here. Drink this. I'll be right back.”

“Where are you—?”

He didn't wait to hear the rest of the question. Instead, he moved into the crowd and headed in the same direction Franco had gone. Surely, surely, nobody would have been dumb enough to send an asshole like Franco after him.
Franco
, for Chrissake? If it wasn't so funny, he might be insulted.

Except that Robert didn't really feel like laughing either, because having Franco here spoiled the day. One lousy day, when Robert Turchek was just trying to be like everybody else. One day, and a creep like Franco had to show up.

It wasn't fair.

In another moment, he saw Franco just ahead, sitting on a bench and looking at a map of Disneyland. Acting as if he were just another tourist. Robert reached into his pocket and took out the knife, holding it against his side as he walked to the bench quickly and sat. “Why are you tailing me, asshole?” he whispered, pressing the point of the knife into Franco's side.

Franco froze and then turned his head very slowly. “What?” He blinked. “Turchek? What the fuck are you doing?”

“What I'm doing is none of your goddamned business. What you're doing is the problem.”

Franco was being very careful not to move. “What the hell do you think I'm doing? I brung my kid to Disneyland. Anything wrong with that?”

“You just happen to be here on the same day I am?” Robert said.

“Looks like.” Franco dared a small snicker. “Didn't know you went in for this kind of shit.”

“You're not tailing me?”

“Hell, no.”

Robert relaxed a little, but didn't put the knife away.

Franco squinted and stared at him. “I heard that you've been playing some stupid games, Turchek. Maybe you need a long vacation somewhere. Out of town.”

“Fuck you,” Robert muttered.

They both saw the woman and little boy approach at the same moment. “Don't you do nothing to scare my kid,” Franco said.

“Yeah, yeah,” Robert said. He got up and walked away quickly.

Screw Franco.

Beau was still waiting by the refreshment stand. He watched Robert approach, frowning. “What's wrong?” he said.

“Nothing. There was just a guy I know. I had to talk to him.”

“That's all?”

Robert nodded shortly. “Come on,” he said. “Let's have some more fucking fun.”

They tried, but something had gone out of the day. The loss made Robert angry. Beau just seemed bewildered. Finally, desperate, Robert glanced around and spotted the Davy Crockett Pioneer Mercantile. “Come on,” he said brusquely. “Let's buy you a present. It's your fucking birthday, right?”

“You don't have to.”

Robert pushed him toward the store. “Maybe not, but I want to, so shut the hell up.”

After considerable looking and debate, they chose a fringed leather vest. It was too damned expensive, but Robert had decided not even to think about money for the rest of the day. They left the store.

Beau shoved both hands into his pockets and walked backward, facing Robert. “This is the best birthday I've ever had,” he said as they moved through Frontierland.

“I'm glad,” Robert said. He wasn't sure that one day of fun made up for everything else, but it was all he could offer. It would have to do.

Beau stopped suddenly, still looking at Robert. “What's going to happen? To you and me?”

The noisy crowd surged around them as Robert searched for an answer that he didn't really have. Finally, he just shrugged. “I don't know,” he said.