Madeline Mann Read Online Free PDF Page B

him.”
    “No. Merely heard the name. He said, ‘I am Logan. Logan Lanford.’ I recall the name, because I thought it was rhythmic. And alliterative. Distinct.”
    “So that was all? And then did he go in to buy diapers?” I asked. “That's what he was supposed to do; it was why he came here.”
    Sunil thought, his hands thrust in his pockets. He looked more awkward without his cigarette.
    “No. Perhaps he would have done so, but then his friends came.” My question had triggered a further memory. He squinted at it.
    “His friends?”
    “Yes. Some men in a black car. Cadillac, maybe, or Lincoln. They pulled up next to him and rolled down the window.”
    “And he got in?” I prodded.
    “Well…” He paused, thinking. “I am not sure. I was here for a smoke, but I made a point of not eavesdropping. From what I saw he wanted to continue walking, but the car followed him. It was like a lover's quarrel, except this seemed like a group of friends.”
    “Could they have been enemies?” I asked. The weird vibes I'd been feeling were getting stronger.
    The idea seemed to interest him. “I am not sure. There were not really raised voices—to make me think there was a fight. But it did seem a bit, uh…” He looked past me at the magazines inside as his brain scanned for a word. “Sinister!” he yelled, pleased with himself. “Yes, it seems now almost sinister the way the car followed him. Especially because it had such a quiet engine.”
    “Could they be the people he called on the phone?” I asked.
    He shook his head, feeling for his pack of Camels. “No. They came too immediately afterward. There wouldn't have been time, unless they were a block away when he called.”
    “But you didn't feel the need to call the police?”
    Sunil looked uncomfortable. “Well, no. It's the memory which seems sinister. At the time, I was content to smoke and watch the car. I don't believe the man ever got in it. I believe he walked away un—ah, undetained.”
    “Did the car have any sort of distinguishing marks? Perhaps you noted a license plate number?” I asked without much hope.
    Sunil thought. He had worked a new cigarette out of the pack. He lit it and took a deep drag. For a moment, the smoke smelled good. Then it started to smell like pollution.
    “I cannot say that I saw a license number. I meditate while I smoke. But I think I noticed a bumper sticker.” He thought some more, puffing peacefully.
    “Do you remember what it said?” I finally asked.
    “No. But it was in the back window, rather than on the bumper, and it was a bright blue. I'm afraid that is all I can remember.”
    I assured him it was really quite a lot, and that I appreciated his help. I shook his hand again, gave him a card that the Wire had provided me, and took my leave. I left him standing there in a trance of utter satisfaction.
    Once in my car, I simply sat, watching a red tree dance in the autumn wind.
    Logan Lanford. God, it had been years since I'd really thought of him. He'd been my friend. I wondered why. Certainly he'd been one of the first people to find me sexually attractive. Perhaps that was why I kept a place for him in my heart, although I hoped not. I'd gotten enough loving attention from my high school boyfriend, Tim Ashbaugh. Another name I hadn't thought of in years, I reflected with a wry smile. By the time we'd graduated, Tim and I were talking about marriage in a rather desperate way, but we'd both gone off to college with relief, and we had rarely talked again. I hadn't kept in touch with Logan either, once I'd left the halls of St. Roselle High School. Things have a way of changing after high school; I left many of my friends behind with a sense of inevitability. It was time to move on, I had felt, time to grow. Had Logan grown too?
    I still sat, not starting the engine, considering possibilities. Logan had made a phone call. He could have called Quinn or his father and asked if he could stay for a while. It could