by Tom Leveen
“So now what?” David asked, and his voice had dropped as if Rebane could somehow hear us.
“I don’t honestly know.”
“We could always just go up and ring the bell,” David said.
“You’re kidding, right?”
“Mmm . . . about seventy percent, yes. I mean, what are our options here?”
“Wait till dark,” I said. “Sneak in.”
It didn’t take long to feel the heat from David’s eyes burning into the back of my head. I turned to face him.
“Well,” I said.
“Well, what,” David said. He wasn’t smiling.
“Even if we got inside through the front door somehow, he’d recognize me from the Hole,” I said. “And if he’s Tara’s kidnapper, he’s not exactly going to give me a grand tour to prove it.”
“He doesn’t know me. I could go.”
“He still isn’t going to show you where he keeps her locked up.”
David sank back into his seat and folded his arms so his hands were under his armpits. We’d both forgotten it’s always about twenty degrees colder up here. David at least had an old 49ers football hoodie crumpled up behind his seat, but I didn’t ask for it. I didn’t even know he watched football.
“Yeah, speaking of where he keeps her locked up,” David said, squinting out the window.
“What.”
“Have you stopped to consider why, if that really was Tara—”
“It was!”
“—then why did he take her out in public like that?”
I raised my shoulders up to my ears, wrapping my arms tight around my stomach. “I don’t know,” I said. “Maybe he just figured no one would recognize her after so many years. Or he really wanted something to drink and didn’t want to leave her alone in the car, I don’t know.”
“But why let her out at all, is what I’m saying.”
“It doesn’t matter!” I said. “He’s a sicko psychopath whose balls should be cut off, that’s it, that’s the end of it, and he’s got her in there somewhere, and I’m getting her out!”
I didn’t realize how bitter and hateful I’d sounded saying all that until I glanced at David, whose eyes were wide as he stared at me.
That’s when I noticed how hard my heart was pounding. I looked back at Rebane’s house. Tried to calm my breathing. I used David’s technique, counting four seconds to breathe in and six seconds to breathe out. Surprisingly, it actually seemed to help. I suddenly missed my meds again, though.
“Let’s check out the rest of the neighborhood,” I said, unable to look at Rebane’s house anymore.
David released the brake, and we kept driving up Rosemont. The neighborhood was laid out in a simple loop. Rebane’s street curved left and became a road called York. We followed York until I told David to stop. We were now west of Rebane’s house—behind it.
“That’s his roof,” I said, pointing. “So the backyard of this house here must butt up against his. Look at that alley. We could walk right through there and end up at his backyard wall. Maybe there’s something more we could see from the rear.”
“Right now?”
“No. Tonight.”
“You’re serious.”
“Well what the hell do you want me to do, David?”
David raised both hands. “Whoa,” he said. “Easy there, boss. I’m on your side.”
I covered my eyes. “Sorry,” I said. “I didn’t mean—”
“It’s okay,” David said, and put a hand on my leg. It almost surprised me that I didn’t mind it. “Look, let’s go get something to eat, huh? We can talk about it over burgers.”
I had done nothing in my life to deserve being treated so well after barking like I did.
“Sure, burgers,” I said. “Can we drive by his house just one more time?”
David nodded and drove us down York until we reached the two-way intersection where we’d first entered the neighborhood. He turned left to head back up Rosemont. As we went past Rebane’s house again, I kept an eye out—looking for I’m not sure what. But other than a flurry of clouds starting to roll over the town, nothing had changed. I wondered if a storm was coming.
David and I didn’t talk as he drove into what served as Canyon City’s downtown. Really it was just a main drag down the 17, which through town was called—of course—Main Street. I pretended we were just focused on looking for a good place to eat, but it wasn’t that kind of silence.
“There’s an In-N-Out,” David said, gesturing. “They’re pretty good. How about we—”
“What’s that?” I shouted, sitting up straight in my seat so fast the seat belt grabbed me back.
“What’s what?” David said, slowing.
“Turn here,” I said. “Turn right! Now!”
He did it, pulling into a parking lot and hitting the brakes. At the edge of the lot, beside the street, sat a monument-style sign. I glared at the white marquee with blue lettering and a simple geometric logo.
“That’s it,” I said. “That’s the bumper sticker I saw on Rebane’s car. The four Cs that looked like an Olympics logo.”
I almost started laughing because it was so perfect and ridiculous and perfectly ridiculous.
The sign read CANYON CITY COMMUNITY CHURCH.
I scanned the parking lot, but it was mostly empty. I guess that made sense for a Saturday afternoon. None of the few cars parked there were Rebane’s.
“Let’s go in,” I said.
“Okay, so, not opposed to this idea per se,” David said. “But what’s the plan?”
That stopped me. I didn’t have what could rightly be called a “plan.” Not until, as I was glancing around looking for inspiration, I saw a guy across the street coming out of a Mickey D’s, wheeling a little girl in a stroller.
“Just follow my lead,” I said, and got out of the car.
“You know, people say that on TV all the time, but does it really work?” David asked, shutting off the car and also climbing out.
“I don’t know,” I said. “I just always wanted to say it. Kind of feels badass.”
David grinned and came around the truck to stand in front of me. Before I knew what was happening, he’d tugged my chin toward his face and kissed me, once but nicely, on the lips.
It wasn’t my first or anything. And it didn’t make me get dizzy or weak in the knees or any of that melodramatic stuff.
But I felt it.
“Whoa,” he said. “Um . . . I didn’t mean to—”
“You should—” I interrupted, then had to stop and swallow. “Say something before doing that.”
“I’m sorry,” David said. “You’re right. I just, I couldn’t . . . yeah. I’m sorry.”
“I mean, I would’ve said yes,” I added. Which, honestly, surprised me. But when I said it, I knew it was true. I really don’t know if I ever would have tried to kiss David Harowitz. Three days ago there’d be no way. The thought never would have occurred to me. Now, though . . . things were different.
“Yeah?” David asked. “You would’ve said yes?”
“I think so. But maybe not here. Or, now. I mean, we’re in a church. For starters.”
“We’re in a parking lot,” David said. “The church is over there. Can I kiss you? You said I should say something.”
“. . . Yeah, okay.”
And he kissed me one more time. I’d been nervous to walk into the church building, but suddenly those nerves settled a bit. Or were at least replaced by a different type of nerves.
“Cool,” David breathed. A little puff of frost sailed from his mouth.
“Cool,” I said. “Okay.”
It gave me the extra boost I needed to go inside the house of the Lord and lie to someone’s face.
We followed signs to the main office and went in. An older la
dy at a desk looked up, assessed us with practiced ease, and chose to smile.
“Hello,” she said pleasantly. “How can I help you?”
I’d never really done this before, but having come this far, so far, I forced myself to stay in character.
“Hi, I’m trying to locate Mr. Rebane?” I fought the urge to say more, figuring the more I talked, the more implausible my story would become. And I hated the way his name tasted in my mouth. It soured the vague peppermint David had breathed into me.
“Ooo, I don’t believe Frank is on campus right now,” the lady said. “He generally doesn’t work on Saturday.”
“Work?” I blurted before I could stop myself.
The lady looked confused at my confusion. Dammit.
“Well . . . yes,” she said cautiously. “May I ask what this is about? I’d be happy to leave him a message.”
This is right where I thought things might go. Time for the big reveal, see what happened.
“I’m friends with his daughter, from when we were little?” I said. “I’ve lost touch with her over the years, but I found out her dad went here, so I just thought I’d take a shot in the dark.”
I tried to smile, and probably shouldn’t have. I could feel the lie on my face.
But I got the answer I needed.
The lady slowly shook her head. “I’m sorry,” she said. “Frank has no children. He’s never been married.”
Yes! I thought. I’ve got you, you son of a bitch.
“Oh,” I said, hoping my surprise was at least a little convincing. “I guess . . . you’re sure? I mean, of course you’d be sure, it’s just that I . . . I must’ve gotten the wrong Mr. Rebane entirely. Wow. I’m so sorry.”
My acting skills weren’t so bad after all—the lady smiled kindly and said it was no problem. David and I thanked her and walked quickly back to the car. As if on instinct, neither of us said anything until we were both inside and the doors closed.
“No children,” I said. “So he lied. That wasn’t his daughter. I knew it!”
“You’re talking about at the Hole,” David clarified.
“Yes. He said, ‘I’ll have a short decaf, and my daughter will have a hot chocolate.”
David nodded thoughtfully, but even as he did, I felt my resolve slipping. It must’ve shown on my face, because David then said, “What?”
“I don’t know,” I said. “I, um . . . that’s maybe not the exact wording he used.”
David arched an eyebrow. I rubbed my face. God, this was getting complicated.
“He might’ve just said, ‘and she’ll have.’ Maybe he never actually said she was his daughter. I mean, if he’d said that and he doesn’t have kids, then he lied. Maybe I could take that to the cops and it would raise a little more hell.”
“But if he didn’t say ‘daughter’—”
“If he didn’t say ‘daughter,’ then he’s just an old guy with some girl. Could be her uncle, a family friend. Maybe he’s her youth pastor.”
“Yeah, what was that whole him-working-here thing,” David said. “You looked surprised when she said that.”
“I was. I am. I had no idea. I don’t know what he does here. You think he works with kids?” The thought churned my stomach.
“Who knows,” David said. “What’s our next move?”
I didn’t miss the fact that he said “our” instead of “your,” and it was kind of awesome. Just as a side note.
“I still think we need to stake out his house or something,” I said. “That’s where the answers are.”
“Well, I don’t recommend we do that till it’s dark,” David said. “And we’ve got a couple hours before that happens. Let’s stick with grabbing food for the moment, huh? We can talk about our options.”
“Okay, yeah,” I said.
David started up the truck and drove us back toward the In-N-Out. As he was parking, I said, “Did we . . . just . . . kiss? Back there?”
“Um, yes,” David said. He shut off the engine. “Is that still okay? We actually did it twice, I don’t know if you were counting.”
“No, I remember,” I said. “I’m just trying to figure out what that means.”
“Well,” David said. “When you figure it out, let me know. Because, um, I’m pretty much, like, high right now. I kind of can’t feel my legs.”
I wrinkled my nose. “Really?”
He laughed. “Really, yeah. It’s kind of trippy.”
“Is it totally weird we’re having this conversation while planning to stake out a kidnapper’s house?”
“Totally,” David agreed. “Hamburgers?”
Being up here in Canyon City, trying to find my best friend, possibly confronting what I felt was pure evil . . . I was scared. I was worried. I was nervous. I was afraid nothing would come out of it.
And at that moment, I knew I liked David Harowitz as more than a friend after all.
“Sure,” I said. “Hamburgers.”
THIRTEEN
We drove back to Rebane’s neighborhood half an hour after sunset. We’d eaten dinner, which wasn’t easy for me, as my guts kept going topsy-turvy inside every time I thought too much about where we were and what we were doing.
Looking for Tara, I mean. Not having dinner with David. That part was pretty cool despite the circumstances.
David insisted we stop for more warm clothes, and I didn’t argue. A Walmart provided us with cheap knit gloves, scarves, and caps. I was glad to pull something warm over my head, and the plain black scarf warmed my breath when I wrapped it across my mouth. I wouldn’t have thought to get that stuff. Thank God for David.
Finally we drove past Rebane’s house again. We saw lights on now, glowing through a set of gauzy curtains in a picture window, but I still didn’t see his car.
“I want to go around the other side,” I told David. “To that alley we saw earlier. See if we can look into the backyard.”
“We should park down the road a bit, then,” David said. “Walk to the alley.”
“How come?”
“So it doesn’t look like we’re, you know. Parking by an alley to go walking through it to someone’s backyard wall.”
“Yeah, okay.”
We chose a dirt area off the residential street at the bottom of the hill. Together David and I began trudging up York Street, the road west of Rebane’s.
“Is it getting colder?” I asked, shivering as we walked.
“Yeah,” David said, and a plume of his breath billowed out in a fine white cloud. Then he stopped and looked up. “And, um, snowing.”
I stopped beside him and lifted my hands out of the 49ers hoodie. In the darkness I hadn’t noticed it, but once David pointed it out, I could feel little ice kisses raining down here and there on my face. It almost tickled.
“Wow,” I said quietly, momentarily setting aside my mission.
“Yeah,” David echoed. “Can I hold your hand?”
“What?”
“Your hand,” David said. “May I hold it.”
“Oh,” I said, and, absurdly, held up my right hand as if to make sure it was still there. There were no streetlights except for one right at the entrance to the street. “Um. Yeah. Sure.”
David wrapped his long fingers around my palm. My hand was practically buried in his. And for some reason that simple contact, even through the knit cotton gloves, made me want to cry.
“Hey,” David said gently. “You okay?”
“Y-yes,” I said. My voice shook, drawing the single syllable out to several.
“We can stop,” David said. He held up our joined hands.
“No,” I said, running the sleeve of my left arm under my nose. “I’d really rather not.”
We hiked together up the hill and took a left. While the light from the quaint houses looked warm and inviting
, I don’t think any of them could possibly have been as warm as I felt right then with David.
My warmth cooled when we reached the alley. I didn’t feel panicky, but it was in the mail. David and I both glanced around. All the houses seemed sealed up against the chill. Without a word, we nodded to each other and walked briskly down the dirt alley.
I realized quickly it was less an alley and more of a stretch of dead earth that maybe had served as a driveway long ago for a house that had since been torn down. Following it, we ended up at a brown cinderblock wall I recognized as the same style and color as that which surrounded Rebane’s house on two sides. This was it.
David stood on tiptoe, but tall evergreen bushes ran the entire length of the wall on the yard side of Rebane’s property, like natural camouflage. David dropped back down and shook his head.
“Can’t see through the bushes,” he whispered.
“Boost me up,” I said.
David looked uncertain but then cupped his hands. I put my right foot in his hands and he shoved me upward. I was able to hold myself up with my arms while I peered through the greens.
It was Rebane’s place, all right. The car was parked on a concrete slab facing out, like he’d backed into place. I’d been right about there being another building; a garage or workshop sat on my right in the corner, backed against the wall. I could make out a rectangle of light coming from a back door, but couldn’t see well enough to tell what kind of room it led to. Concrete steps led down from the door, ending a few feet from the rear bumper of the car. There were no lights on upstairs. The same tall bushes lined the other two walls surrounding the house.
Between the detached garage and the house, by the light of the back window, I saw he had a remarkably nice garden filled with pretty little flowers. I have to admit, that part caught me off guard. How did he keep them alive in the cold? It wasn’t the kind of thing I expected from a kidnapper.
Unless, of course, he isn’t one, someone in my head told me.
I shook my head to clear it.
“Okay,” I whispered.
David loosened his grip and then slid his hands along the outside of my legs and waist as I dropped to the ground, making sure I didn’t fall on my rear. Or maybe taking the opportunity to get a little friendly with his hands. Either way was fine with me. Why was this happening now?
