Knight In Black Leather by Gail Dayton (people reading books .txt) 📗

a painful subject. She'd been unable to talk about her own pain for years. And it had festered away inside of her all that time.

Slug dropped the blanket, exposing a thin chest between wide shoulders, covered in bruises. He shivered as he continued the clean up.

"Are you sure I can't help?"

"Yeah." He paused. "Would you--like--turn your back? I don't got any clothes on."

Marilyn turned away, her heart breaking for Slug, for Eli, and shattering with fear for Pete.

Twenty-One

***

Eli got on the phone and called the school. No answer, of course. It was well after five. He looked up Mrs. Grabowski, Pete's teacher, in the phone book. A child answered and yelled for Mom when Eli asked for her.

"Yes, Mrs. Grabowski--this is Eli Court. Did--who picked Pete up from school this afternoon?"

"Marilyn--Mrs. Ballard did. Why? Is something wrong?"

His relief was muted. "They're not home. Probably ran out to the store or something. I just wanted to make sure she made it by to get Pete."

"Yes. Yes, she certainly did. I'm sure they'll be back any time."

"Thanks."

So if anything had happened, they were at least together. Eli hoped. He hung up the phone and went outside to look in the garage. No car.

Which didn't necessarily mean anything. But if they'd run out for something, why was the roast still sitting on the cabinet bleeding into the sink? Why wasn't there a note? Marilyn always left a note. Or checked in on his cell phone.

Eli pulled it out and checked for messages. Nothing.

He went back in the house, trying to beat back his worry. Should he call Jackson? Report them missing? He'd heard that an adult had to be missing at least twenty-four hours before police would take action, but a child was a different matter. Was it the same for a woman and child gone missing together? Did Flash's threat make a difference, or was he just being paranoid?

Eli shoved his hands back through his hair then drew them down over his face. He had to call. So what if he looked stupid when they walked in the house five minutes from now? It was just possible they wouldn't walk in.

He had dialed the phone and was waiting for an answer when Joey walked through the front door after knocking once.

"Hey, big sister, it's me. Where's the grub?"

Eli held up a finger, indicating that he'd be with Joey in a minute. "Yeah, I need to talk to Detective Jackson."

"What's up?" Joey walked over.

"Hold on," Eli said, covering the receiver. He moved his hand when Jackson came on the line. "This is Court. Have you picked up Gardner yet?"

"Not yet. Why?"

"Marilyn and Pete aren't home. She picked him up after school, but they're not here. No car in the garage. No books in the house. Stuff she had out to cook for supper is still sitting by the sink. Like they never got home."

"Probably just got sidetracked. You're located near Carnegie-Mellon, right?" Jackson referred to the apartment not far from the university where they'd been living when Teresa was killed.

"No. No, we moved when I brought Pete home. We're out in Hillside now."

"Shit!" Jackson swore, then swore again. "Why the hell didn't you tell me? I've been--there was a carjacking this afternoon by the Morrison viaduct. The description of the car involved matches the one I saw you in at the funeral. Is that near you?"

Eli let loose a few words. "Half a dozen blocks. On the way from the school."

"I'll get the word out on the street. We didn't get a license plate."

He rattled the number off. "I'm looking too."

"Yeah, sure. Bring me pictures first. And don't kill anybody if you can help it."

"I'll have the pictures there soon as possible. No guarantees about anything else." Eli hung up the phone and grabbed his keys.

"I'm coming too," Joey said.

"If you're coming, then haul ass." Eli banged out the door. He had pictures in his wallet.

"Let's take my car." Joey slammed the door behind them. "We'll have room to bring them home."

When they got to the freeway, Joey switched on the radio. Eli barely refrained from switching it back off, from screaming at him to go faster. At least the traffic heading into town was lighter than that coming out.

Then a special bulletin came on. An "Amber alert." The radio station broadcast a description of Pete, of Marilyn and of the car. Technically, the alerts were only for missing children, but Eli assumed that since Marilyn had been snatched along with Pete, the media were giving her a freebie.

The alert had worked once that Eli knew about. A child snatched in Dallas had been dumped along the freeway fifty miles south of town when the kidnappers apparently heard the alert on the radio and panicked. Eli'd been staying in East Texas at the time, hadn't thought much about it, except to be glad it worked. Flash wouldn't panic, though. The Flashman was the type who'd get mad. Eli could only hope the cops would find them first.

Marilyn prowled the empty basement. She didn't know what she was looking for. She just couldn't sit still. Slug was sleeping, she thought. Lying down, anyway, with her long green overcoat wrapped around him. She hadn't been able to let him cover up with that filthy blanket after he'd cleaned up.

The single light bulb near the stairs cast eerie shadows through the two-by-four studs. The basement had been divided into rooms at one time, probably when the rudimentary plumbing was put in, but nothing covered the studs marking the "rooms." She could see through every wall. Slug had politely turned his back when she'd had to use the toilet. At least their cell had that amenity.

He was such a strange boy, coarse surface overlying an incredibly polite core. One minute, he didn't seem to care about anything, including himself, and the next he would say something so sweet it would choke her up. He reminded her of Eli.

It was dark outside now. The dim light