Harper grimaced and turned his gaze back to the road before admitting, "So did I. It was in my back pocket." It was probably a melted mess by the end, he supposed.
"Neither of us has a phone?" Drina asked with amazement, and then smiled slightly, and said, "Then they couldn't call us. She could have been at Teddy's for hours."
Harper glanced at her, worried about her getting her hopes up only to have them dashed, but said quietly, "We can call from the gas station. I know Teddy's house number."
Drina hung up with a little sigh, and stood for a minute, waiting for her disappointment to ease. Harper had given her Teddy's number and suggested she call while he pumped gas. But Stephanie wasn't back at the house, and no one had even reported a sighting of her, "Not the gals at Timmy H's, or Val at the twenty-four-hour Quicky mart, nobody." Teddy had sounded as frustrated as Drina felt.
"No joy, huh?"
Drina glanced to the skinny, sandy-haired gas-station attendant behind the counter. His nametag read Jason. "No joy?"
"No luck," Jason explained, his Adam's apple bobbing with the words. "No one's seen her?"
"Oh, no," she said on a sigh, pushing the phone back toward him. "Thank you for letting me use the phone."
"No problem," he said easily, turning away to set it back where it belonged on the counter behind the till he manned. "Least I could do since we didn't have a pay phone. It's hard to find those anymore. They become more scarce as cells get popular."
"Yes," Drina murmured, her gaze dropping to the chocolate bars lining the front of the counter. As upset as she was, her body was getting hungry. Harper must be too.
"It's hard to figure why no one's seen her though. A new car seems to pull in here every ten minutes with people out scouting for her. Teddy must have half the town searching," Jason said, turning back. "If she's on foot, someone should have seen her by now. Maybe she thumbed it."
"Thumbed?" Drina asked blankly.
"You know." He held out his hand, fingers curled into a fist and thumb up. When she still looked blank, he added, "Hitchhiking. She must have hitched a ride or something." Jason smiled faintly when her expression cleared. "Your accent . . . you're not from around here, huh?"
Drina shook her head, and murmured, "Spain."
"Cool." He nodded. "Always wanted to go. Someday I will."
"Were there any other cars here when Anders was getting gas?" she asked suddenly.
"Anders," Jason said blankly, and then his expression cleared, and he said, "Oh, you mean the cool black dude who lost the girl?"
Drina nodded.
"Well, yeah, some old dude was in here paying for his gas and getting junk food. A real asswipe," he added with a sneer. "He saw your Anders guy get out and start pumping, and says to me, "You better lock up the till and door, boy. That nigger's probably here to rob you." Jason snorted. "Racist old prick. I checked the security tape after he'd left and, sure enough, he was the thief. Pocketed at least three chocolate bars when I turned my back to get the lottery tickets he wanted."
Drina stilled. "Security tape?"
"Yeah." He waved toward a corner of the store. "My boss put them in last year. Said it would keep the insurance down."
Drina peered at what looked like a rounded mirror in the corner and considered the direction it was pointing.
"That Anders guy asked about them too, but there aren't any outside, and it doesn't show the pumps. There's only the one inside, so he didn't bother with it. But you can check out the security tape if you want."
Drina hesitated, but then decided she might as well. They hadn't been able to find Stephanie by driving around. Perhaps there was something on the tape that might be useful. "Yes. Please."
"Come around," he invited, waving toward the end of the counter.
Drina walked around the long counter and came up behind it as Jason knelt to start typing on a keyboard under the counter next to where he stood. There was a very small computer screen next to it.
"What are you doing?" she asked, as he typed, tapped at a mouse, and typed again.
"I'm pulling up the program and punching in the time I want so it will start replay there," he explained, and muttered, "A late-night Two and a Half Men rerun was on so it was between eleven and eleven thirty."
"A late-night Two and a Half Men rerun?" she echoed with confusion.
"A comedy show on television. I watch it instead of the news," he explained, gesturing to a small television on his other side. "It passes time while I'm sitting here twiddling my thumbs."