The girl curled her fingers softly against the fresh paint and then looked back at me. That was all. And then she was gone.
My phone rang out in angry peeling, and I stumbled around until I found it. I checked the time before I answered the call, and knew immediately that it couldn’t be good news.
“Moses?” his voice echoed like he stood in an empty hallway.
“Tag. It’s three a.m. Where are you?’
“I’m in jail.”
“Ah, Tag.” I groaned and ran a hand down my face. I shouldn’t have let him go. But Tag had been managing himself for a long time, and a beer hadn’t derailed him in ages.
“In Nephi. I messed up, Mo. I was playing pool, nursing a beer, shootin’ the shit with the local boys. Georgia was right, everybody was pretty plastered, but that just made it easier to win. Everything was just fine. Then these guys start talking about the missing girls. That got my attention and I asked him, ‘What missing girls?’ One of ‘em brings me a flyer that’s stuck to the wall. The girl that’s missing is a little blonde girl, maybe seventeen. She was last seen in Fountain Green, just over the hill, on the Fourth of July. It made me think of Molly, Mo. They said rumors were she was kind of wild. People said the same thing about Molly, as if she was to blame for her own death.” Tag’s voice rose, and I could hear the same old pain rearing its ugly head.
“Then an old guy sitting at the bar perks up and mentions that you’re back in the area. They all start speculating that you’re the one that’s been takin’ all these girls all these years. They said there’s been a few. They all remembered the picture on the overpass. One of ‘em even knew that you were the one who told the police where to find Molly. I shouldn’t have said anything, Mo. But that’s not me. Ya know?”
Yeah. I knew. And I groaned, knowing what was coming. My face was hot and my breath short. I knew I was hated, but I didn’t know the full extent of the reason why.
“Next thing I know, one of the old guys is swinging a pool stick at my head.”
I groaned again. Tag loved a fight. I was pretty sure how it all ended.
“So, now I’m here, at the county jail. Sheriff Dawson was so glad to see me, he questioned me personally. In fact, I’ve spent the last two hours answering questions about where I was on the Fourth of July, as if had something to do with the girl’s disappearance. Then they started asking me questions about you. Did I know where you were on the Fourth? Shit,” Tag spat in disgust.
“I had a fight that night, remember? So luckily I was able to provide them with a pretty clear timeline for both of us. I have to pay a fine, and I’m sure the owner at the Hunky Monkey is gonna want me to pay for damages. Which I will. But your truck is still there, parked on Main. So you’re gonna need to come get me in the morning.”
“The Hunky Monkey?” My head was starting to hurt.
“Or whatever it’s called. It might be the Honky Mama, but that seems kind of derogatory,” Tag mused before continuing on with his narrative.
“It’s all bogus. And they’re gonna let me go. But not until tomorrow morning. They’re telling me I’ve had too much to drink and I will have to sleep in a cell tonight. And I’ve been told not to leave the area for the next 48 hours.”
I could tell Tag wasn’t the slightest bit drunk. I’d seen Tag drunk. I’d pulled Tag from a bar before, swinging and cursing, only a few beers in, and this wasn’t even that.
“What do you want me to do?” I asked. “If my truck is sitting on Main in Nephi, then how am I going to come get you?”
“I don’t know, man. Go see if Georgia can help you out. I hope it’s still there. Sheriff Dawson made noises about impounding it, saying something about a search.”
“I didn’t even own that truck in July. I bought it in August, remember? What in the hell do they think they’ll find?”
“That’s right. I forgot about that!” Tag cursed and I heard someone telling him his time was up.
I said a few choice words that Tag heartily repeated and told him I would figure something out and I would be there to pick him up in the morning.
But morning found me with no solutions. I could go to Georgia, but I decided I’d rather steal a bike and peddle home with Tag on my handlebars than ask Georgia to help me bail my friend out of jail.
By the time the cleaning girl arrived in an old white van sporting a nervous smile, I was at my wits end. I took one look at her ride and offered her $500 to let me drive it in to Nephi. Her blue eyes got wide and she readily agreed, nodding her bleached-blonde head so vigorously her big pink bow slid over and fell in her eyes. I promised to have it back to her by the time she was finished in the house, and I headed out the door.
Georgia
I THOUGHT I SAW MOSES drive off in Lisa Kendrick’s white van. He drove past our house with his head averted, as if he really wished I hadn’t seen him. I had just come back from the post office and was stepping out of my little Ford pick-up when the van shot past. I never drove Myrtle again after Eli died. My dad had sold her to a friend in Fountain Green so I didn’t have to see her anymore. Maybe it was melodramatic. But as my Dad had kindly said, there are some battles you have to fight in order to heal, and this isn’t one of them. Just sell the truck, George. So I did.
I watched the van as it slowed at the corner, turned, and headed for the highway. He was headed north toward Nephi. Which could mean anything, but considering Tag had left the night before in Moses’s truck, I had a pretty good idea that’s where Moses was headed too. But in Lisa’s van?