My Name Is Venus Black(80)

“Does your Tony have short dark hair? Is he handsome?”

The woman on the other end cackles. “Tony—handsome? He’d get a kick out of that!”



* * *



—

WHILE I’M WAITING for an old lady who pulled up in a large Buick to finish using the pay phone, I glance through all the pages I have yet to get to. And there it is. My heart drops. Tattoos by Tony. Why didn’t I just start at T, for Tony.

Now I have to fight back my excitement. It’s still such a long shot, I remind myself. So I found a Tony who owns a tat shop. That’s nothing, really. But I abandon the phone booth and get in my car, where I open my map. Trying to figure out where I am in relation to this shop takes me five minutes. It’s not all that far.



Driving there, I feel like I’m in a dream. The idea that I might have found Leo’s kidnapper is just too much. I feel certain that, in my panic, I’ll get in a wreck or otherwise ruin my chance. But I don’t. I arrive on the right street safely. And there it is: Tattoos by Tony. When I see a black truck with a design painted on the door, my heart starts to pound.

I park a couple of spaces behind the truck. Turn off the engine. Now what? I can’t charge in there and ask if he’s a kidnapper. I don’t even know if it’s the right Tony. I get out of the Honda in what feels like slow motion. I casually stroll by the shop and glance inside.

Oh my God, it’s him! It has to be! Late thirties, dark-haired, and suave-looking. Better-looking than Ted Bundy. I try to picture this guy having Leo in a cage, using him for perverse purposes, but I just can’t.

Of course, there could be more than one good-looking tattoo artist named Tony in Oakland, but the truck is the kicker, the ace. This has to be the guy. My knees are weak and I feel shaky, on the verge of tears or collapse. I wonder if I should find a phone booth and call Inez and tell her I think I’ve found him.

Then I realize that I didn’t necessarily find Leo’s kidnapper. I found the guy who looked at the house in Everett and seemed suspicious to Inez. There’s a huge leap in logic to say he kidnapped Leo. I need to know more, need to actually see or find Leo.

But how am I going to do that? I guess I could wait for this Tony to get off work and then follow him and see if I can catch sight of Leo. I could call the police, but what if this guy has Leo stashed somewhere and he won’t talk? What if the police only botch it?

I turn and walk past the shop once again, glancing inside as I do. The guy looks up and I could swear we make eye contact. As I pass by the truck again, I pause. Since he can’t see me from where he is, why not glance inside the vehicle to see what I can see? I boldly approach the truck, shield my eyes, and peer inside. Nothing to indicate a kid, much less a kidnapper.



And then something catches my eye. There’s a sticker on the back window of the truck’s cab. A black paw image with the words PANTHER PRIDE. When I look closer, I see text around the edges: EDNA BREWER MIDDLE SCHOOL. Could this guy have enrolled Leo in school? It seems far-fetched, given we’re talking about a kidnapper. And even more unlikely given Leo’s disabilities. I know I’m grasping at straws, but this straw gives me tingles.

On impulse, I ask a passerby if she knows where I can find the middle school. She says it’s not far. Easy directions. But what if I go there and I miss the dude getting off work? And yet, I doubt this Tony is going to take off from work anytime soon. When I glanced inside, it looked like he had customers waiting their turn. Since I have no better leads, I decide to find the school and wait outside to watch for Leo coming out. The odds that I’d spot him in a crowd of kids pouring from the building are slim.

But it’s worth at least a try.

Finding the school is easy. I park and head into the main office, which is right inside an enormous main entrance off the street. I approach the secretary. “I’m supposed to pick up my nephew today. What time does school let out?”

She barely looks up from her desk behind the counter. “Two fifty-five.”

I walk back to my car to wait but realize I need to pee. It’s only two-fifteen, so I have plenty of time to get back on Park Boulevard and visit one of the cafés I passed. I find a hopping lunch place, and no one seems to notice or care that I haven’t ordered anything. But the ladies’ room door is locked. Which makes me have to go even worse. While I wait, I check my watch every five seconds. Finally, I try to calm myself down by using some breathing techniques Sharon taught me back in Echo.



It might not even be him. But what if it is! I remember Piper’s big green eyes. “I’m praying for Leo to come home.”

A small, slightly hysterical laugh escapes me. And then, for the first time in my life, I decide to chance it that God might exist. If he ever wanted to convince me, now is his big—perhaps only—chance. Let it be Leo, I pray. Let it be Leo.

After I take my turn in the restroom, I wash my hands and look in the mirror. I am wild-eyed and my hair—no longer in a braid—looks like a nest for small birds. Instead of drying my hands with a paper towel, I dry them on my hair, trying to calm it down some. I put on fresh lipstick. Then I ask myself the most painful, scariest questions of all: What if Leo doesn’t remember me? And what if I’m not sure it’s him?

I just don’t know.

Back at the school, I’m still early and I get my pick of places to park out front. My plan is simple: If I spot a boy who could be Leo, and he gets on a bus, I’ll follow it. Or if he gets in a car, same thing.