The Night Parade(67)

“Where’s Eleanor now?”

“She’s okay. She’s with me.” He closed his eyes, forced himself under control. “Tim, I need your help.”

“Where are you?”

For a moment, he had no clue—his brain was fuzzy, his thoughts jumbled and nonsensical. But then the confusion dissipated, revealing a sharp gleam of clarity, and he said, “I’m about an hour or so from Kansas City. I came all this way hoping I could see you, that we could talk in person—”

“Shit, David, I split KC over a year ago. I’m off the grid now. I’m in Wyoming.”

David felt the floor drop out from under his feet.

“Oh,” he said into the phone, but it was someone else’s voice now. The ceramic tiles that formed the backsplash behind the restroom sink appeared to rearrange themselves. David squeezed his eyes shut. He braced himself against the wall with one hand so that he wouldn’t topple over. “Okay. Shit. Well, how far is that?”

“From KC? Maybe ten hours. Twelve, if you’re cautious about speeding and cops.”

Twelve hours, David thought. A whole day. Jesus Christ. Can we make it that far?

“Listen,” David said. “I’m going to try to get there.”

“Sure, sure,” Tim said, “but just hold on a sec, okay? Let me think.”

David leaned against the restroom door and glanced out into the theater lobby. Two teenagers chatted behind a glass counter, a guy and a girl. They had plastic Halloween masks perched on their heads, but they didn’t seem too concerned about germs, judging by the proximity of their faces. It made David think of the guy in the paper plate mask back in the library, and how he’d been staring at him from between two bookshelves.

“Okay,” Tim said. “I think I’ve got an idea that will help you out, but I need to make a phone call first. I’m not sure how long it will take. Are you able to stay there in the city overnight? Do you have money?”

“I’ve got enough for a motel.”

“If not, I can maybe wire you some—”

“No, I don’t want to get into all that. I’m trying to lay low. I can find a motel off the highway, but I don’t want to go traipsing around the city looking for a Western f*cking Union or whatever. I’ve got enough cash on me.”

“Okay, good. Meantime, I’ll get things rolling on my end. You’ll hear back from me as soon as possible. Just sit tight.”

“Okay. And thank you.”

“Stay safe.”

Tim hung up.

David washed his face and hands again before hustling back out into the lobby. The place was dead, but he noticed a white van parked in a loading zone outside the theater, and the sight of it caused his bowels to clench.

No, please . . .

He hurried back inside the theater, staggering blindly down the aisle looking for the silhouette of Ellie’s small head above the seats. When he found her, he leaned over and told her they had to leave.

“The movie’s not over yet,” she protested.

“Now,” he said. The few other people in attendance turned and looked in their direction.

Ellie joined him in the aisle, and he ushered her quickly out into the lobby. The white van was still there. Scanning the parking lot through the wall of windows, he could see a black sedan parked in a spot beneath a lamppost. A second black car was pulling off the highway and coming up the paved roadway that led toward the theater.

“Come on,” he said, and grabbed her hand. They hurried toward the fire exit. David leaned against the arm bar, expecting an alarm to sound, but nothing happened. They shoved out into the side parking lot.

“What’s going on?” Ellie said.

“There’re people out front.”

“Cops?”

“I don’t know exactly who they are.”

Still clutching her hand, he dragged her around the side of the building. At the corner, he peered into the front lot. The van was still parked out front. There was someone behind the wheel talking into a cell phone. The sedan parked in the lot looked empty, though it was difficult to tell because the windows were tinted. The second black vehicle turned right toward a shopping center instead of left toward the movie theater. It could have been a ploy to disarm him or it could have been their tactic, circling around the opposite end of the shopping center only to come at him from the rear.

The guy climbed out of the van, stuffing his cell phone in the rear pocket of a pair of faded jeans. He looked young and blue collar, with a ball cap tugged down low over his eyes. He had a ponytail. When he entered the theater, David tightened his grip on Ellie’s hand and said, “Let’s go.”

They ran across the parking lot and made it to their car without anyone jumping out of the shadows and grabbing them. The engine growled to life. It was all David could do not to slam down on the accelerator and peel out of the parking lot. But he didn’t want to draw any attention to their escape. He pulled out slowly while Ellie whipped her head around, looking for signs of danger. The white van didn’t move. The parked sedan remained parked. The second black vehicle did not reappear from the other side of the theater.

They pulled back out onto the highway and drove.





33


Turned out the motel room back in Virginia that first night had been a fluke. David tried two motels in the vicinity of Harmony, but neither would let him pay cash without also showing his driver’s license. He might have risked it had he been in a less populated part of the country, but things in Harmony, Missouri, seemed pretty much on the ball, what with all the FOLLY FREE, COME AND SEE! signs in the shop windows. Nowadays, good, healthy places were also xenophobic places, suspicious of strangers snaking into their midst and spreading their poison. He didn’t want to risk someone recognizing his name or the picture on his driver’s license and putting two and two together. Instead, he drove out of the city, thinking he’d find better luck along the highway. But every place he passed was a Marriott, a Motel 6, a Residence Inn, or some similar chain where he knew he’d run into the same problem. Probably, those places wouldn’t even take cash. In the end, he settled on a seedy one-story cinder-block establishment that looked like it catered to prostitutes and had probably seen its fair share of homicides within its walls. The haggard female desk jockey did not disappoint, and brandished him with a metal key dangling from a plastic fob without so much as a glance in his direction.