Vanishing Act Read Online Free PDF Page B

say a lot—I mean, it’s hard to get into an accident when there are three cars on the road—but George was looking for a fight and I was damned if I was going to oblige.
    He glanced at me suspiciously, waiting for me to continue. When I didn’t, he began fiddling with the radio. A moment later he turned it off. “Twenty-five stations and nothing on any of them,” he complained.
    I remained quiet. We were in George’s car driving toward the bus terminal on Erie Boulevard. The Greyhound Raymond was on was due to arrive in ten minutes. I don’t think I’d ever seen George so distracted or nervous. He’d been calmer when I’d found him stuffed in a trunk after he’d been shot and left for dead. But then, that was probably easier to handle than the thought of playing daddy to his prodigal nephew. After all, one was over quickly, the other could linger on and on. Not, of course, that he had to do this. He could have said no. But we’d already had that discussion—twice. I got a cigarette out of my backpack.
    â€œNot in the car,” George said.
    I was good. I kept my resolution. I didn’t say anything. I just put it away.
    â€œI thought you were quitting,” George continued.
    â€œDid I say that?” No. This was going to be fun, I decided. Especially after all the toughlove lectures George had given me about Manuel. I was going to enjoy seeing how he was going to handle his very own JD. “When are you going to register Raymond in school?”
    â€œTomorrow,” George snapped, switching lanes and topics at the same time. I guess anything was better than talking about his nephew. “So what did you think about Bryan?”
    â€œI thought he was a little bit edgy.”
    â€œEdgy? Not when I’ve been around him.”
    â€œHow well do you know him?”
    â€œNot well at all. We’ve just had a few beers together after class. Why?”
    I told George about what had happened at the Yellow Rhino.
    â€œHey. You don’t think you can handle him, don’t take him on.”
    â€œI didn’t say I couldn’t handle him.” Despite my resolution, I could hear the testiness in my voice.
    â€œSorry.” George began rifling through his CDs. Finally he found the one he wanted and put it on. The sound of Miles Davis filled the car.
    â€œYou think you can find his sister?”
    â€œI don’t know.” I drummed my fingers on the door. “A fair amount of time has elapsed.”
    Usually the longer someone’s been gone, the harder it is to track them down.
    George turned off Erie Boulevard into the bus terminal’s parking lot. “I don’t think the police exactly went out of their way to look for her.”
    â€œThat’s what Bryan said. You know a guy called Marks?” I asked as the Taurus jounced over the potholes. I’d driven down better roads in the jungle in the Yucatan.
    â€œIs he the primary?”
    I nodded.
    â€œI know him. I’ll call him up. See if I can grease the wheels a little.” George cursed as we hit an especially deep rut.
    â€œWhat’s he like?”
    â€œHe’s okay,” George replied. “He’s just been on the job too long.” He stopped the car a little ways from the terminal. The parking lines that had been painted on the tarmac had long since washed away, and the few cars parked on the lot were splayed out like teeth in a bum’s mouth.
    George checked the time on his watch. “Do you have any ideas yet about where Bryan’s sister got herself off to?”
    â€œNone. I went through her room this afternoon.”
    â€œAnd?”
    â€œAnd she has a lot of clothes.”
    â€œWhat else did you find?”
    â€œNothing. Dirty laundry. Hair dryer. State fair souvenirs. That sort of thing. Evidently Marks took Melissa’s address book with him.” I nibbled on my fingernail. “I called Calli and asked her