Then go do that thing you’ve always wanted to do but have been afraid would be too embarrassing.” Mason got up with a decidedly glassy look in his eyes and headed for the crapper.
I leaned back in my chair. “Well, that’s one nuisance taken care of.”
“You’re evil. What do you think he’ll go do?” Greg asked.
“I figure either some sheep somewhere will wake up with a new boyfriend or our nebbishy friend there will be the newest attraction at The Runway before the sun comes up.” The Runway was a gay strip club out by the airport. Don’t ask how I know that. Let’s just say that some things can never be unseen, and there are some cases that don’t pay enough, no matter how high the fee is.
Joe Arthur, the Tire King himself, joined us at our table after picking up the spare. “Where’s Mason?” He asked.
“He went to the can. Something about an upset stomach.” I replied. Greg snorted a little beer out of his nose and I kicked him under the table.
“Alright, you got me away from league night. Now what’s this about?” Arthur asked. Obviously a man used to being in charge of conversations. I decided to put an end to that as quickly as possible. I reached into the briefcase Greg had brought in from the car and brought out a stack of photographs. Smiling faces began to litter the table in front of us, some of the pictures curling a little as they soaked up spilled beer on the table. I didn’t care. I wanted to watch Arthur’s face as he realized who these children were. Ten pictures – school pictures, family vacation shots, all pictures of happy kids, beaming into the camera.
“Do you know who these kids are, Mr. Arthur?” I leaned forward, forcing his attention away from the photos and to my eyes. He looked up and I could see that he was shaken. There was something going on with this guy, and I need to know what it was.
“These are the kids that have gone missing. But I don’t know anything about…” I cut him off before he could go any further.
“I know that, Mr. Arthur. You’re not a suspect in these disappearances. But you were at seven of these children’s schools just days before they went missing. You were there for Career Day, right?”
“Yeah, some of them. Some of those Career Day things I sent Jake to.”
“Jake?” Greg leaned forward, suddenly very interested. I was, too. We hadn’t heard anything about a Jake before now. “Who’s Jake?”
“Jake’s the manager of my Pineville store. I sent him to the schools on the south side of town, cause they’re closer for him to drive. But what’s this got to do with me? I don’t know anything about any of this stuff.” But he did, I could see it in his eyes, and more importantly, I could smell it. Like I said before, we can’t smell a lie, not exactly. But we can smell the little sweat that comes with fear, and after a while you figure out what different kinds of fear smell like. For example, oh-crap-I’m-about-to-get-eaten-by-a-vampire fear smells completely different than yeah-I-really-raised-a-super-demon-and-I’m-lying-out-my-butt-about-it fear. This was somewhere between I-cheated-on-my-taxes fear and I’ve-got-corpses-buried-under-my-tomato-plants fear, and I couldn’t quite put my finger on it. But of course that’s exactly when my whole night went right to crap.
Chapter 16
I sensed a disturbance in the force just as I heard Greg whisper “Oh, crap.” Alright, I didn’t sense a disturbance in the force. But I did hear a silence fall over the bowling alley and a smell a wave of fear rippling out from the main entrance. I looked over at the front door and saw the female detective from the night before talking to the shoe rental guy. He pointed over to where we were sitting with the tire king, and she started our way.
“Wow. Looks like an evening of coitus interruptus for Mrs. Tire King.” I muttered.
“Huh?” Arthur asked.
“Your wife’s screwing around on you. A lot.” I
I leaned back in my chair. “Well, that’s one nuisance taken care of.”
“You’re evil. What do you think he’ll go do?” Greg asked.
“I figure either some sheep somewhere will wake up with a new boyfriend or our nebbishy friend there will be the newest attraction at The Runway before the sun comes up.” The Runway was a gay strip club out by the airport. Don’t ask how I know that. Let’s just say that some things can never be unseen, and there are some cases that don’t pay enough, no matter how high the fee is.
Joe Arthur, the Tire King himself, joined us at our table after picking up the spare. “Where’s Mason?” He asked.
“He went to the can. Something about an upset stomach.” I replied. Greg snorted a little beer out of his nose and I kicked him under the table.
“Alright, you got me away from league night. Now what’s this about?” Arthur asked. Obviously a man used to being in charge of conversations. I decided to put an end to that as quickly as possible. I reached into the briefcase Greg had brought in from the car and brought out a stack of photographs. Smiling faces began to litter the table in front of us, some of the pictures curling a little as they soaked up spilled beer on the table. I didn’t care. I wanted to watch Arthur’s face as he realized who these children were. Ten pictures – school pictures, family vacation shots, all pictures of happy kids, beaming into the camera.
“Do you know who these kids are, Mr. Arthur?” I leaned forward, forcing his attention away from the photos and to my eyes. He looked up and I could see that he was shaken. There was something going on with this guy, and I need to know what it was.
“These are the kids that have gone missing. But I don’t know anything about…” I cut him off before he could go any further.
“I know that, Mr. Arthur. You’re not a suspect in these disappearances. But you were at seven of these children’s schools just days before they went missing. You were there for Career Day, right?”
“Yeah, some of them. Some of those Career Day things I sent Jake to.”
“Jake?” Greg leaned forward, suddenly very interested. I was, too. We hadn’t heard anything about a Jake before now. “Who’s Jake?”
“Jake’s the manager of my Pineville store. I sent him to the schools on the south side of town, cause they’re closer for him to drive. But what’s this got to do with me? I don’t know anything about any of this stuff.” But he did, I could see it in his eyes, and more importantly, I could smell it. Like I said before, we can’t smell a lie, not exactly. But we can smell the little sweat that comes with fear, and after a while you figure out what different kinds of fear smell like. For example, oh-crap-I’m-about-to-get-eaten-by-a-vampire fear smells completely different than yeah-I-really-raised-a-super-demon-and-I’m-lying-out-my-butt-about-it fear. This was somewhere between I-cheated-on-my-taxes fear and I’ve-got-corpses-buried-under-my-tomato-plants fear, and I couldn’t quite put my finger on it. But of course that’s exactly when my whole night went right to crap.
Chapter 16
I sensed a disturbance in the force just as I heard Greg whisper “Oh, crap.” Alright, I didn’t sense a disturbance in the force. But I did hear a silence fall over the bowling alley and a smell a wave of fear rippling out from the main entrance. I looked over at the front door and saw the female detective from the night before talking to the shoe rental guy. He pointed over to where we were sitting with the tire king, and she started our way.
“Wow. Looks like an evening of coitus interruptus for Mrs. Tire King.” I muttered.
“Huh?” Arthur asked.
“Your wife’s screwing around on you. A lot.” I
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