Read Online Among the Missing by Richard Laymon - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Richard Laymon
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and asked, "It ain't out front?"
"No."
"Must be Trinket has it."
"Trinket?" He'd assumed the truck belonged to Bill's family, not Trinket's.
"One of my girls."
"I guess she's the one I'm looking for."
The woman narrowed her eyes. "What'd she go and do this time?"
"She might be able to identify a man I'm looking for."
And socked me in the nuts.
"Bawsh," the woman said.
Rusty wasn't quite sure what she meant by that. And he didn't quite care. "Do you have a recent picture of your daughter?" he asked.
"How recent like?"
"Within the past year or two."
"Not that I can lay my hands on." Her head snapped toward the television as the crowd exploded with cheers.
The announcer's voice was quick with excitement. "It's a hard line drive over second! Purnelle scoops it up, fires! Not in time! And the Yankees open the fifth inning with a man on first!"
Rusty waited while Trink's mother took a long pull at her beer and slid the back of her hand across her mouth.
"Who's the boy she goes with?" he asked.
"He see your man, too?"
"He may have. I need to talk to him. To both of them."
"That'd be Bill," she said.
"Bill what?"
"Mason. Snotty little so-and-so. Comes from over on the north end."
"Do you know where Trinket might be?"
"Right now?" she asked, not looking away from the television.
"Right now."
"You know Indian Point?"
Rusty nodded.
"Might try up there. They go up there a lot." She drank some more beer. "You a Yankee fan?"
"You bet," Rusty said.
Grinning at him, she said, "You're all right for a law man."
"Thank you."
"You gonna bust Trinket?"
"I might."
"What'd she do? Besides all this bawsh about seeing some fella?"
"She broke half a dozen laws from indecent exposure to battery. I'm the guy she battered."
"How come that don't surprise me?" she asked, and laughed. "My Trinket, she's a mean one. Mean as a snake. Takes after her father. You bust that child, don't let on I told you nothin' or she'll hurt me. She come at me once with a fork. Look here." Standing, she lifted her T-shirt over a roll of flesh as white and dimpled as biscuit dough. "Look here. Come and get a good look."
Rusty stepped closer. Her smell was sour, so he took shallow breaths through his mouth.
"See here? Got me with a fork." One of her stubby fingers poked the skin to the right of her navel and Rusty saw a neat row of four red marks. And another row, and another. "Five times. She stuck me five times, the little wad. Then I lambasted her in the breadbasket and she wasn't up and around for near a week."
"How'd she manage to stab you so many times?"
"I was trying to reason with the child. Can't reason with her. She bites, too, you know."
"Does she?" he asked, remembering the way she had nipped his shoulder.
"Hell, yes. Last spring she bit one of my lungs so hard she brought blood. I had to get it stitched up like an old sock. Still got scars to prove it. Look here." She started lifting her T-shirt higher.
"That's fine. I believe you." Rusty turned away.
"Don't you wanta see?"
"I have to get going."
"Look at you!" She laughed. "I made you red."
"Thanks for your help, Mrs. White." He went out the door. As he shut it, he heard her call out to him.
"Come back here some time, law man!"
He climbed into his car, trying to stifle a groan as pain radiated from his testicles. At least the girl had confined the biting to his shoulder.
Could've been worse, he thought. A lot worse.
Chapter Eleven
The Class of 1990
"Walter? Walter?" Sitting up in bed, Merton listened to footsteps coming up the hallway. They stopped outside his door. "Get it in here, Walter."
The door opened and the lanky man stepped inside. Though he still wore only a robe, he was clean shaven now, his black hair combed and shiny.
"Are you done washing my clothes?" Merton asked.
"If you don't require me to iron them."
"Bring them in here."
"Let's hear the magic word."
"Now?"
"Ha ha ha."
"All right, all right. Please."
"That's much better."
"Walter?"
He
"No."
"Must be Trinket has it."
"Trinket?" He'd assumed the truck belonged to Bill's family, not Trinket's.
"One of my girls."
"I guess she's the one I'm looking for."
The woman narrowed her eyes. "What'd she go and do this time?"
"She might be able to identify a man I'm looking for."
And socked me in the nuts.
"Bawsh," the woman said.
Rusty wasn't quite sure what she meant by that. And he didn't quite care. "Do you have a recent picture of your daughter?" he asked.
"How recent like?"
"Within the past year or two."
"Not that I can lay my hands on." Her head snapped toward the television as the crowd exploded with cheers.
The announcer's voice was quick with excitement. "It's a hard line drive over second! Purnelle scoops it up, fires! Not in time! And the Yankees open the fifth inning with a man on first!"
Rusty waited while Trink's mother took a long pull at her beer and slid the back of her hand across her mouth.
"Who's the boy she goes with?" he asked.
"He see your man, too?"
"He may have. I need to talk to him. To both of them."
"That'd be Bill," she said.
"Bill what?"
"Mason. Snotty little so-and-so. Comes from over on the north end."
"Do you know where Trinket might be?"
"Right now?" she asked, not looking away from the television.
"Right now."
"You know Indian Point?"
Rusty nodded.
"Might try up there. They go up there a lot." She drank some more beer. "You a Yankee fan?"
"You bet," Rusty said.
Grinning at him, she said, "You're all right for a law man."
"Thank you."
"You gonna bust Trinket?"
"I might."
"What'd she do? Besides all this bawsh about seeing some fella?"
"She broke half a dozen laws from indecent exposure to battery. I'm the guy she battered."
"How come that don't surprise me?" she asked, and laughed. "My Trinket, she's a mean one. Mean as a snake. Takes after her father. You bust that child, don't let on I told you nothin' or she'll hurt me. She come at me once with a fork. Look here." Standing, she lifted her T-shirt over a roll of flesh as white and dimpled as biscuit dough. "Look here. Come and get a good look."
Rusty stepped closer. Her smell was sour, so he took shallow breaths through his mouth.
"See here? Got me with a fork." One of her stubby fingers poked the skin to the right of her navel and Rusty saw a neat row of four red marks. And another row, and another. "Five times. She stuck me five times, the little wad. Then I lambasted her in the breadbasket and she wasn't up and around for near a week."
"How'd she manage to stab you so many times?"
"I was trying to reason with the child. Can't reason with her. She bites, too, you know."
"Does she?" he asked, remembering the way she had nipped his shoulder.
"Hell, yes. Last spring she bit one of my lungs so hard she brought blood. I had to get it stitched up like an old sock. Still got scars to prove it. Look here." She started lifting her T-shirt higher.
"That's fine. I believe you." Rusty turned away.
"Don't you wanta see?"
"I have to get going."
"Look at you!" She laughed. "I made you red."
"Thanks for your help, Mrs. White." He went out the door. As he shut it, he heard her call out to him.
"Come back here some time, law man!"
He climbed into his car, trying to stifle a groan as pain radiated from his testicles. At least the girl had confined the biting to his shoulder.
Could've been worse, he thought. A lot worse.
Chapter Eleven
The Class of 1990
"Walter? Walter?" Sitting up in bed, Merton listened to footsteps coming up the hallway. They stopped outside his door. "Get it in here, Walter."
The door opened and the lanky man stepped inside. Though he still wore only a robe, he was clean shaven now, his black hair combed and shiny.
"Are you done washing my clothes?" Merton asked.
"If you don't require me to iron them."
"Bring them in here."
"Let's hear the magic word."
"Now?"
"Ha ha ha."
"All right, all right. Please."
"That's much better."
"Walter?"
He
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