Read Online Thursday's Child by Teri White - Free Book Online Page A

wasn’t so much that he was conscientious at all; maybe he was just trying to justify his existence.
    Whatever.
    First things first, though. He took out and swallowed a couple of the tiny pink pills that were supposed to ease the pain. Unfortunately, they didn’t work all that well, probably because he never allowed himself to take more than two when he was on the job. They made him groggy and it was hard to work that way.
    So, ungroggy and with a leg that still throbbed, he started his car and headed toward Venice.
    2
    It was late, but on a warm summer night like this one there was still plenty of activity on the boardwalk. Some of what was going on, Gar figured, might have been neither illegal nor immoral. Maybe. The nice thing about being his own boss was that he didn’t have to concern himself with anything but the job he was on; it wasn’t his responsibility anymore to look out for the whole damned society.
    The beach was covered with tents; it wasn’t a Boy Scout jamboree, however. This was the new Venice, uneasy refuge for the homeless. Gar thought it was too bad, but he was just a confused liberal Democrat who didn’t know what to do anymore.
    After walking for a while and talking to a few massively disinterested passersby, Gar bought himself a large lemonade and found an empty bench. Gratefully, he sat.
    He hadn’t been there long when a boy with a chartreuse Mohawk skated over and dropped heavily down next to him. “Hi,” the boy said. “Got any change you’re not using?”
    Gar handed him a dollar bill.
    â€œAll right,” the boy said appreciatively.
    â€œDon’t spend it on drugs.” Gar told all the kids the same thing, not that he imagined it really did any good. But it was something a confused liberal could do.
    â€œHey, no way. The body is, like, a temple, you know?” The boy grinned suddenly and even with the absurd hair, he managed to look remarkably Tom Sawyerish. “’Sides, what the hell could I get for a buck?”
    Gar hid his own smile by taking a swallow of the tart lemonade.
    The boy didn’t leave with the dollar, but sat where he was, rolling the skates back and forth slowly, whistling a tune that Gar didn’t recognize. It was nice that he didn’t seem to mind being seen sitting with a gray-haired human being.
    After a moment, figuring what the hell, Gar took the McClure photograph from his pocket one more time. “You strike me as a young man who gets around,” he said.
    The kid liked that. “Yeah,” he said with a self-satisfied nod. “I keep on top of things all right.”
    â€œSo maybe you’ve seen this girl?”
    â€œYou a cop?”
    â€œNo.”
    He seemed to accept that and took the picture. His fingers were slightly grimy and the nails were chewed down to the quick, but he held on to the picture with delicacy. “She does look familiar,” he said after a moment.
    â€œHer name is Tammi,” Gar offered. “And probably she doesn’t look so much like a prom queen anymore.”
    The boy glanced slyly at Gar and smiled again. “Must be demon drugs, right?”
    â€œProbably.”
    He gave the photo one more long study, then nodded firmly. “Yeah, that’s her. She hangs out.”
    â€œWhere, mostly?”
    â€œHouse. A couple blocks that way. A few blocks.”
    Gar had the feeling he always got when a search was about to yield results, a sort of tingle at the back of his neck. “Show me the house. There’s another buck in it for you.”
    The boy shrugged. “Sure.”
    Gar finished the lemonade and threw the cup toward a trash can that was already overflowing. “Let’s go.” He still wasn’t moving very quickly, but the boy, who said his name was Perry, slowed his skating to Gar’s pace. He also talked most of the way, apparently recounting the plot of a science fiction movie he’d recently seen.