and stared around. “A missing kid! As if this Jonah?s-luck weather ain?t trouble enough, now this.
He stormed away without a backward glance.
“Well-well-well,” Weezy said. “That sure set him off.”
Jack thought he?d looked anything but guilty. But the fact that another kid had
disappeared along their route was disturbing. Maybe that guy didn?t know anything about it himself, but he couldn?t very well know everything his hirelings did in their spare time.
One of the circus folk could be some sort of perv. Jack shuddered at the thought of Cody in the clutches of a child molester.
Suddenly he wanted to be home.
“Let?s get out of here.”
11
Weezy peeled off at Adams Street and Jack continued on alone to Jefferson and home
where he found a strange car parked in the driveway. He stowed his bike in the garage and went in through the back door.
Inside he found the kitchen table set for dinner but no one there. He heard voices from the front of the house and headed that way. In the living room he found three adults and a child: his folks, plus Mr. Vivino and his daughter Sally.
“Hey, Jack,” Mr. Vivino said, rising and holding out his hand. He was heavyset with a round face and longish brown hair. “Long time no see.”
Jack gave his hand a firm shake, just as he?d been taught to do. His father had told him wimpy men gave wimpy handshakes.
“Hi, Mister Vivino.” He turned to the five-year-old girl. “Hey, Sally. How?s it going?”
“Okay,” she said, barely making eye contact.
And no smile. Sally used to have one of the biggest, brightest, sweetest smiles. Where had it gone?
Jack thought he knew: It left with her brother.
Weezy was pretty much Jack?s best friend now, and Kate had been his best friend growing up.
But from age eight or nine until twelve, Jack and Tony Vivino had been near inseparable.
Then Tony died.
It started with a broken leg from just hopping over a tree trunk. No way that little jump should have broken his leg. Something was wrong.
Very wrong. He had some sort of bone cancer that had already spread through his system. They cut off his leg, filled him with drugs that made his hair fall out, and then he died anyway. Jack had cried like a baby. He went to the funeral and hadn?t been back to the Vivinos? since. Hadn?t seen any of them until last month when Mrs. Vivino and Sally, who?d started kindergarten this year, began showing up at the school bus stop.
He remembered the old days when he?d tickle her just to see that smile. Jack had recovered from Tony?s death. It didn?t look like Sally had.
“Mister Vivino?s running for freeholder,” Mom said with a smile of her own.
People told Jack he had the same hair and eyes as his mother. She used to be thin but had added pounds the past few years. Dad didn?t seem to mind but she was always complaining about it.
Her smile looked forced and Jack could guess why: no word on Cody Bockman.
“That?s great,” Jack said to Mr. Vivino. “Can I ask a dumb question?”
He grinned. “The only dumb question is the one that doesn?t get asked.”
“Okay. What?s a freeholder do?”
Mr. Vivino laughed. “They run the county. Mister Haskins?s unfortunate death left a gap I?m ready to fill.”
The mention of Mr. Haskins changed the mood in the room and triggered uneasy memories.
He?d been one of the Lodge members who?d died so mysteriously last month. No one could say for sure whether he?d been murdered, but it was suspected. Stuff like that just didn?t happen around here.
Mr. Vivino cleared his throat. “His term was about to expire this year so I?m running to take his place. I?m here to ask your folks for their support.”
“And you?ve got it, Al,” Jack?s father said, rising from his chair and extending his hand.
No surprise there. His father and Mr. Vivino—his first name was Aldo but everyone called him A1—were both members of the local Veterans of Foreign Wars post. Dad?s war had been in Korea. Tony?s father was a Vietnam vet like Walt. They?d both come back in one piece—at least physically—but Mr. Vivino worked for an engineering firm in Cherry Hill while Walt … well, Walt spent his time being Weird Walt.
Jack?s dad was trim, with blue eyes and thinning hair. He held his steel-rimmed reading glasses in his free hand. Jack realized the rising, the handshake, and the promise of support were a subtle heave-ho. Dad was probably hungry.
“Mine too,” Mom said.
Jack could tell she wanted to get dinner on the table.
Thankfully Mr. Vivino picked up on it.
“Tom and Jane, I appreciate that.” He shook Mom?s hand. “I?d be honored if you?d allow me to put a sign up on your lawn.”
“Sure,” Dad said. “Be our guest.”
Jack could almost hear him thinking,
Mr. Vivino shook Jack?s hand again, then led Sally out by the hand. “Bye, Sally.”
Sally looked up and gave him a little wave as she followed her father out. Still no smile.
Jack wished he knew a way to change that. He wished something else …
“I wish I could vote,” he said as he followed his folks to the kitchen.
“So you could vote for Al?”
“Yeah.”
“Why?”
“?Cause he?s Tony?s father.”
Or should that be
He guessed he?d always be Tony?s father.
“I guess that?s as good a reason as any to vote for a freeholder. There?s five of them, so any bad apple that happens to land in that barrel can?t do much damage.”
That brought Jack up short.
“You think he?s a bad apple?”
Dad laughed. “Not at all. No, I?m just saying the freeholder system tends to keep things running smoothly. I think Al will be a good addition.”
“Why?”
“Well, partly because of Tony. He was a good kid, and I think that says something about his father.”
Jack felt his throat constrict. He hadn?t thought about Tony in a long time.
He remembered the long summer days they?d spent in the Vivinos? backyard pool, the two of them cannon balling while an ever-smiling Sally paddled around in her floater vest.
Good times.
Then he remembered the wake and seeing Tony in his coffin looking like a shrunken wax doll.
“You miss him, don?t you,” Dad said.
Jack nodded, unable to speak around the sudden lump in his throat.
Yeah, he missed Tony. Until this moment he hadn?t realized how much.
12
