Jack_ Secret Vengeance - F. Paul Wilson [37]
“Well, hooray for me,” Jack said dryly.
“You’ll get over it. In the meantime…” He pulled out his wallet and withdrew a card. “If you’re ever in New York and you need anything—if you’re tired or poor or homeless or just yearning to breathe free—you call that number.” He patted Jack’s cheek. “You got a friend in the big city, kid.”
He tucked the card into the breast pocket of Jack’s shirt, waved, then headed for the door.
Jack pulled out the card and noticed a ten-dollar bill with it.
“Hey, you forgot your comics.”
“Comics, shmomics,” he said without turning. “I hate comics. That’s for your trouble. Tell Uncle Jake I said hello.”
And then he was out the door and gone.
Jack looked at the card.
ABRAHAM GROSSMAN
ISHER SPORTING GOODS
Level the playing field with our high-caliber gear
He tucked it in his pocket. He couldn’t imagine any circumstances that would cause him to call this Grossman fellow, but you never knew.
FRIDAY
1
As usual, Jack approached through the trees. On his last two early morning trips he’d seen no signs of life on the school grounds, but you never knew. Some couple may have parked in a dark corner of the lot to make out.
He walked his bike to the treeline and scanned the grounds. Nope. Just as empty as ev—
“Stop right there.”
Jack froze at the whispered words. Oh no! Toliver?
He turned and saw a tall, lean figure detach itself from the shadow of a nearby tree trunk.
“It’s me—Levi.”
Jack released a breath he hadn’t known he’d been holding. “What are you—?”
“Shhh,” Levi said, pointing.
Jack followed his point to a gleam in the shadows along the western edge of the parking lot. The glow from the solitary streetlight on the road at the other end was reflecting off something metallic. Jack squinted through the dark and made out the lines of a car.
And just then, behind it, a match or a lighter flared in the front seat of another car.
Two cars in the dark.
“Who are they?” Jack whispered.
“Don’t know. They was parked when I got here. Wanna go see?”
Jack had a pretty good idea who it was. But … he turned to Levi. He couldn’t see his mismatched eyes and that was okay. He found them distracting.
“Why are you here?”
Levi shrugged. “Don’t sleep much. How ’bout you?”
Good question, one for which Jack had no answer.
“Um, returning a library book.”
“Heh. Right. Let’s get a closer look at who thinks they’s hidin’.”
Jack leaned his bike against a nearby trunk, then followed Levi as he circled around through the trees. They managed to creep within a hundred feet of the cars. When he recognized the Mustang GLX, he stopped. No need to get closer. He knew who was in that one, and could guess why.
He felt tension tighten his shoulder muscles as he realized what would have happened had Levi not stopped him. Beaten silly.
He should have expected something like this—should have put himself in Toliver’s shoes and asked himself what he’d do in his situation. He’d have done just what Toliver was doing: staked out the school to catch whoever was sneaking in to get at his locker.
Jack was about to retreat when someone got out of the second car—it looked like a Honda hatchback—and walked up to the Mustang. A cigarette dangled from the corner of his mouth.
“Hey, Cars, this is gettin’ old, man. How long we gonna hang out here?”
Toliver’s voice replied, “Till the son of a bitch shows up.”
“Maybe he ain’t coming. Maybe he saw you don’t have a combination lock now so he’s called it quits.”
“Maybe.”
“You stopped him, man. Let’s get home.”
“Another fifteen minutes,” Toliver said. “He doesn’t show by then, we call it a night. Deal?”
Jack heard palms slap.
“Deal.”
Fifteen minutes? Jack thought. I can hang another fifteen. He signaled Levi to retreat.
“So tell me,” Levi whispered when they reached Jack’s bike. “How’d you get Toliver’s combinations?”
Oh, jeez. He knows.
Jack could see no course but to play dumb.
“What are you talking about?”
“I been watching you. I seen you open that window and seen you goin’ in and out of it at night.”
So … it hadn’t been