Payback (4 page)

“Doodles, where’d you go?” a woman cal ed from the back of the house.

“Be right there,” Yana’s father cal ed back.

Guess that’s why he didn’t seem so worried,
Anthony thought, trying not to cringe.
He’s having a little sleepover while his kid
is, as he said, who the hell knows where.
Yana’s dad started to swing the door shut. “Wait. I real y need those notes,” Anthony sa id quickly. “Can I look in her backpack? It’l only take a minute.” He wasn’t leaving without a piece of Yana’s clothing. He was trac king the girl down today.

“One minute,” Yana’s dad said. “Shut the door on your way out.” He disappeared back into the house. Anthony fol owed him insi de through the living room and down the hal . Yana’s dad went in the room at the end of the hal and shut the door behind him.

Didn’t even bother to ask if I’d seen her around or knew anyplace she might be,
Anthony thought as he fol owed Yana’s father inside. The guy rivaled Tom. And he was actual y Yana’s blood relative, too.
Yana must-

“Man, are you actual y feeling sorry for her?” Anthony muttered, disgusted with himself.
So her dad doesn’t treat her like a prin
cess. Boo freakin’ hoo. That’s no excuse. There is no excuse for what Yana did to Rae.

There were two doors off the hal besides the one Yana’s dad had gone in. Anthony tried the closest one. He would have tho ught it belonged to Yana’s little sister-except he knew Yana didn’t have a little sister. There was a pink plaid bedspread on the single bed. A row of worn stuffed animals was propped neatly against the ruffly pil ow. Who would have thought tough-girl Yana would stil have stuffed animals? Maybe she wasn’t as tough as-Do you have fried eggs for brains or what? Anthony asked himself.
The girl is a killer. Or she would be if she’d gotten even a
little bit luckier. The fact that she sleeps with Winnie the friggin’ Pooh doesn’t change that. Now do what you’ve got to do and
get out of here.

Anthony scanned the room, looking for a shirt tossed over a chair, a pair of jeans bal ed up in the corner. But nothing. He yan ked open the flimsy double doors of Yana’s closet. Her clothes were al on hangers. No laundry bag of dirty clothes in sight. Ant hony wasn’t sure if Mandy needed clothes that had been worn recently or not. He turned around and jerked open the top dresser drawer. The socks and underwear inside were way too neatly arranged to have been worn. The clothes in the next two drawers were clean, too. Anthony grabbed a T-shirt, then slammed the dresser drawers shut and closed the closet. Not that Yana’s dad would care.

On the way out he swung into the bathroom and checked the hamper. A bunch of Yana’s dad’s clothes, but nothing of Yana’s.

He found a mini washer and dryer in the kitchen, but no clothes.

Forget it. The T-shirt was good enough. It would have to be.

“What if she’s pregnant?” Mandy asked as she paced back and forth in front of the bed. “That has to be why she wants to elo pe, right? This is a disaster. My dad’s going to stroke out. He’s stil al ”-Mandy circled her hands helplessly-“because of my mom and-” The doorbel interrupted her.

“It’s probably Anthony. Want me to get it?” Rae asked.

“Yeah. Would you?” Mandy answered. “I just-”

Rae stood up and gently steered Mandy onto the bed. “Sit. I’l be right back.” She hurried to the front door and opened it.

“Did you check the peephole first?” Anthony demanded.

“I knew it was you,” Rae told him.

“You didn’t know it was me. You
thought
it was me,” he shot back, his deep brown eyes getting even darker. “It could have been Yana. In three seconds she could have had you scarfing down Drano.”

Before Anthony could continue lecturing her, Rae leaned up and wrapped her arms around his neck, pul ing his face closer to hers. The second their lips touched, the kiss took over Rae’s whole body. She could feel the warmth on her neck, on her knees, on her toes. It was like he could somehow kiss every part of her without moving his mouth from hers.

“Next time check the peephole,” he said when he released her.

Rae nodded. She didn’t think she could speak. Not so soon after that kiss. She led the way down the hal and into Mandy’s ro om.

“Did you get me something?” Mandy asked the second she saw Anthony. He pul ed a T-shirt with the words Boys Lie printed ac ross the front and tossed it to her. Mandy bunched the material in both fists and closed her eyes. Her forehead got al crinkly. She squeezed her eyes shut more tightly. Rae could see the tension spread from the muscles of her face to her neck and shoulders.

“Anything?” Anthony final y asked.

Mandy opened her eyes and shook her head. “I’m sorry. I don’t know why. I just-there was nothing.”

“Crap,” Anthony spat out. Rae shot him a be-sensitive look. He got the message. “I was afraid that might happen,” he told Mandy. “I couldn’t find any dirty stuff. I mean stuff that Yana had worn but hadn’t washed yet. You need something that hasn’t been through the wash, don’t you?”

“I don’t know,” Mandy admitted. “I haven’t been experimenting with my, uh, thing too much. It kind of freaks me out,” she added, sounding apologetic. “But the sweater I touched of my sister’s wasn’t something right out of the wash, so maybe…”

Mandy stood up. “Come on.” She led the way to her sister’s bedroom. The place stil freaked Rae out. It was like a temple or so mething, with al these pictures of Mandy and Emma’s mom everywhere, each picture with dried flowers or a little candle next to it. Rae could completely get Emma missing her mom, grieving, having that empty hole-in-the-chest feeling. But didn’t it make it worse being surrounded with the pictures? God, in the spaces where there weren’t pictures or flowers or candles, there were things that had belonged to Mandy and Emma’s mom-jewelry and purses. Even her driver’s license.

“Maybe you’re right,” Mandy said to Anthony. Rae jerked her attention away from the objects in the room and realized Mandy was holding a silk blouse. “Emma just got this back from the dry cleaners’, and it gave me nothing.” Mandy tossed the blouse on to Emma’s bed, then pul ed a bra out of her sister’s dresser.

Rae took a quick glance at Anthony out of the corner of her eye. It felt weird having him checking out some other girl’s underwe ar. Not that he was checking the bra out, exactly. But he was looking at it.

“Nothing from this, either. But it’s clean, too,” Mandy announced. She shoved the bra back in the drawer. “Let me try one more thing.” She pul ed back the bedspread on her sister’s bed, reached under the pil ow, and pul ed out a pajama top. Immediately her head began to sway back and forth. Her hips, too. A smile tugged at her lips, but she wasn’t smiling at Rae or Anthony. Her eyes were blank and vacant.

Rae took a half step closer to Anthony, and he looped his arm around her shoulders. They watched Mandy in silence for five or six seconds. Then Mandy’s body gave a spasm, she blinked, and Rae could tel she was back in the room, back from wherever it was she’d been.

“I guess the washed or not-washed thing is what makes the difference,” Mandy said, letting the pajama top drop back onto the bed. “I saw her that time.”

“So we’re screwed,” Anthony answered. “I couldn’t find anything of Yana’s that hadn’t been washed.”

Rae felt something shift inside her, but she wasn’t sure if it was disappointment or relief. “What’d you see, Mandy?” she asked, remembering that Mandy needed her right now.

Mandy shook her head. “It was crazy-for a few seconds I
was
my sister. It’s like I was right in her skin. She was hanging out at the Virgin Megastore with Zeke. They were sharing a set of headphones, listening to some Afroman song.”

“That doesn’t sound so terrible,” Anthony commented.

“I got some fingerprint info before,” Rae explained softly. “It looks like Mandy’s sister might drop out of school and elope with the guy.”

“Huh,” Anthony muttered. “That’s not so good.”

Rae turned her attention to Mandy. “We shouldn’t get al ahead of ourselves. Emma was thinking about eloping, yeah. But every body thinks about stuff they don’t actual y do.”
Except thinking about marrying Zeke made her so happy,
Rae couldn’t help ad ding inwardly.

“I guess so,” Mandy agreed. “Do you think if you went fingertip-to-fingertip with Zeke, you could find out more? Maybe Emma’s a lot more serious about him than he is about her. Maybe he would go nuts if he thought she wanted to elope.”

Mandy looked at Rae with ful -on puppy-dog eyes. Ful -on
worried
puppy-dog eyes. So what choice did Rae have? “I guess we could stop by Virgin,” Rae told her. “I could use some new CDs.” She ran one finger down Anthony’s back. “What do you say?”

“You two go ahead,” he answered. “I’m gonna see if I can locate our friend Aiden.”

“How?” Rae asked. “We don’t know where he’s living now. We don’t even know where he was keeping Yana.”

“You need help?” Mandy asked, even though Rae knew she was dying to deal with her sister’s sitch.

“No. I’ve got it covered. And besides, you two wouldn’t be able to get in the places I need to go. Not with your baby faces.” Ant hony’s tone was teasing, but his hands were starting to bal into fists-a sure sign that he was stressing.

“Are you sure you-” Rae began.

“I’l be fine,” he cut her off. “You’re the one who needs to be careful. Did you ever hang with Yana at Virgin?”

Rae shook her head.

“Good,” Anthony said. “You’l be safer there than anyplace you’ve been with her, places she’d think to look for you. I’l cal you on your cel every hour and check in.” He slowly slid his arm away from Rae’s shoulders, and she felt a chil settle into her body. For a few minutes she’d actual y forgotten that Yana could be anywhere.

Even though that’s not exactly true,
Rae thought.

Or not the whole truth, anyway. Yes, Yana
could
be anywhere right now. But admit it, wherever she is, you know that she’s mo
ving closer to you.

“You again.”

Mr. Pink-yeah, he had on a pink shirt again-had only said two words, and already Anthony was feeling like a five-year-old who had peed in his Batman Underoos. What was it about the guy? He was a freakin’ bookie. Why could he look at Anthony and-Shut the hell up, he ordered himself.
You’re here for Rae. Remember that.

Anthony pul ed a chair away from the table to his right, slid it up next to Mr. Pink, and plopped down in it. “Yep. It’s me again. I lo ve this place.” Anthony waved at one of the waitresses in her short little ref uniform-what al the girls at The Score sports bar had to wear. He reached over, pul ed an olive out of Mr. Pink’s martini, and crushed it between his teeth.

Mr. Pink looked freakin’ amused. “Did you want to place a bet on another nonexistent race?” he asked.

A blush heated up Anthony’s cheeks. A friggin’ blush. He hoped no one could see it in the dim bar. Most of the light came from the dozens of TVs. “I came here to find Aiden Matthews,” Anthony announced.

“I should have tape-recorded our last conversation,” Mr. Pink said, sounding bored. “Since I didn’t, and you don’t look intel igent enough to remember it, I wil repeat myself-Aiden Matthews is not here.”

“Yeah, I realize that,” Anthony answered. “But about twenty minutes after I came in here the last time, Aiden was on my butt.

He’d heard I’d been looking for him. How do you think he heard that?”

“Little birdie?” Mr. Pink suggested.

“Little pink birdie,” Anthony agreed. “I want to know where he is. And I want to know now.”

Anthony didn’t see the signal, but there must have been one because a second later he was being pul ed out of his chair by a guy that should have been on
WWF Smackdown!
WWF dude marched him out of the bar while al the jerks in the place were ho oting and clapping. “Which car is yours?” WWF asked when they hit the parking lot.

“The Hyundai,” Anthony mumbled. Because what was the point in drawing the process out?

“Okay, so get in your Hyundai like a good boy, and I’l watch you drive away,” the guy said. “And if I ever see you in the same ro om with my boss again, I’m kicking your butt across the state line.”

Anthony fol owed his orders and got in his car.

He started to slam the door shut, but WWF blocked it. “You ever been to The Elbow Room?” he asked.

“The Elbow Room,” Anthony repeated. He’d been preparing a little defense action in his head. He hadn’t expected a question.

“You should. It’s your kind of place.” After that, he shut the door for Anthony and gave him a wave. Anthony stared at him for a se cond, stil trying to process, then he backed out of the parking space and hauled butt out of the parking lot. The first gas station he saw, he pul ed in and got directions to the Elbow Room.

Can’t believe Mr. Pink’s guy did me a favor,
Anthony thought as he drove to Little Five Points, where the bar was supposed to be.
Unless he didn’t really do me a favor. Unless I’m going to be met with a bunch of goons with baseball bats.

But when he found the crappy-looking little bar, the parking lot only had a few cars. And no goons.
Maybe WWF just found out
he has a tumor or something,
Anthony thought.
Maybe he wants to get in a few good deeds in case he kicks it. Whatever. I
owe the guy one if I ever see him again.

Anthony climbed out of the car and strode into the Elbow Room. It wasn’t nearly as classy as The Score. No cute little waitres ses. And it smel ed like someone had puked in the corner not too long ago. But it’s not like he was there for the friggin’ atmosp here. He blinked a few times, letting his eyes get used to the dark of the bar, then he scanned the place, squinting at each of the dim figures hunched at the bar.

No Aiden. Crap. He checked the tables. Most of them were empty. There was a guy macking on a woman at the one al the way in the back. And a guy making a pyramid of shot glasses at the table closest to the door. But that was it. No Aiden.

Time to make friends with yet another bartender,
Anthony thought. He pul ed out a twenty and started over. Then a flash of mo vement to his left caught his eye. He glanced over and saw Aiden stepping out of the men’s room.