She turned to the left and followed the walkway to the laundromat. Through its glass front, she saw eight or nine people. Some were busy at the machines, but most were just waiting for their loads to finish. Some leafed through magazines, one read a paperback, another talked on a cell phone, and a few were chatting.
Duane had no reason to be in the laundromat.
But he was a friendly, talkative guy. Someone from the laundromat might’ve asked him for change, for a helping hand, and maybe they’d started talking…
And he let an hour slip by?
Duane had done that sort of thing before.
But he wouldn’t do it tonight, Sherry told herself. Not with me waiting like that.
He didn’t seem to be in the laundromat.
Maybe somebody saw him.
She started toward the open door. As she stepped past the front of a parked car, its horn tooted.
She flinched.
Jerking her head to the right, she saw a kid in the driver’s seat. He smiled and waved at her through the windshield.
Do I know him?
He opened the door and climbed out. “Hi, teacher!”
“Hi.”
He was a tubby, cheerful-looking guy, maybe seventeen or eighteen years old. His brown hair was shaggy and windblown. Like so many guys his age, he wore a T-shirt underneath an open, long-sleeved shirt. The open shirt blew behind him as he came toward Sherry.
“Didn’t you sub for Mr. Chambers last week?” he asked.
Sherry nodded. “You must’ve been in one of his classes.”
“Third period. Hope I didn’t scare you with the horn.”
“Just a little.”
“Sorry. I was just so surprised to see you. It’s so weird when you run into a teacher in real life.”
“We’re just people, too.”
“But it’s weird, though. Do you live around here or something?”
“Not too far away.”
“I can’t think of your name,” he said.
Smiling, she held out her hand. “Sherry Gates.”
“Ah! Right! Miss Gates! Now I remember!” He shook her hand and said, “I’m Toby Bones.”
“You’re Toby Bones. I remember your name from the roll book. It’s a very unusual one.”
“Thanks. Everybody…uh…sure has a lot of fun with it.”
“Envy.”
He shrugged his heavy shoulders.
“Have you been here long, Toby?”
“Where?”
Sherry spread her hands. “Here.”
“Oh, I don’t know. I came over to do my wash.”
“Have you done it yet?” she asked.
“Just finished. I was all set to leave, but then I saw you come out of the store.”
“So you’ve been here for an hour, maybe?”
“Something like that.”
“The reason I’m asking, I’m looking for someone. A friend of mine. He came over about an hour ago to pick up something at the Speed-D-Mart, and now I can’t find him.”
Toby’s brow furrowed. “What do you mean, you can’t find him?”
“He was only supposed to be gone for ten or fifteen minutes, so I finally got worried and came over to look for him. His van’s still here. He apparently showed up a long time ago and bought his cigarettes and left the store. But he never drove away. His van is still here, but he isn’t.”
Frowning, Toby studied the parking lot. “I don’t see no van.”
Any van, she thought. But she didn’t correct him.
“It’s around the side,” she explained.
“Ah.” He nodded.
“You might’ve been here at the same time he was. I’m just wondering if maybe you saw him.”
“I don’t know. What’s he look like?”
“He’s about twenty-eight, six feet tall, slender, good-looking. Brown hair.”
“Long or short?”
“His hair? It’s longer than mine…a little shorter than yours. He was wearing a blue shirt and tan shorts.”
“Oh, yeah, I saw that guy.”
“You did?”
“I don’t know about any van, though. When I saw him, he was walking off down the street.” He nodded toward the corner of Robertson and Airdrome. “He crossed over to the other side and went on down the road there.”
“Down Robertson?”
“Yeah.”
“He walked south?”
“Is that south? Yeah, I guess so. Anyhow, that’s which way he went.”
“But he lives the other way.”
Toby shrugged. “I’m just saying what I saw.”
“He went that way on foot?”
“Yeah.”
Sherry scowled toward the street corner.
Why on earth would Duane walk in the wrong direction?
“Maybe it wasn’t him,” she said.
“Maybe. I don’t know. You know what he looked like? Sort of like Han Solo. You know? Like Harrison Ford back then.”
Sherry felt her stomach sink.
“That’s him, all right,” she said. “But I don’t get it. He leaves his van here and walks in the wrong direction?”
It broke down so he set off to find a service station?
That made no sense at all. If it broke down, he would’ve walked back to his apartment. Besides, what service station could he possibly go