The bum eagerly grasped the bottle and sucked down half its contents in one long gulp. “That’s good stuff!” he exclaimed enthusiastically, handing the flask back to Leroy.
“Why don’t you hold onto that,” Hunt suggested, not relishing the idea of taking a swig after the derelict. “How long has this alley been your stompin’ grounds, old timer?”
The bum scratched his head. “Long as I can remember. Years. I see everything that goes on in this neighborhood.”
“That’s good to know.” Leroy nodded approvingly. “Maybe you can help me out. Do you recollect seein’ a moving truck parked here a couple months back?”
“Oh, that!” The old man shifted around, trying to find a comfortable position on the cold concrete. “Yeah, I seen ‘em. Heard ‘em too. The movers made so much racket I couldn’t get any sleep.”
“You got a notion where they was bound for?”
“No, I don’t. Why don’t you ask ‘em yourself?” the bum said cryptically taking another draught from the flask.
“Now how can I do that? They been gone a couple months.” Leroy wondered if the derelict was suffering from the DTs.
“They’re still around,” the old man said.
Hunt stared at him suspiciously. “You seein’ ‘em now?”
“The moving truck.” The wino snorted irritably. “I recognized the name. “Continental Movers. They got an office a couple blocks from here. On Franklin Street. I know everything that goes on this neighborhood.” He thumped his chest for emphasis. “It’s my turf. I oughta know.”
“Franklin Street, you say?” Hunt stood up and tipped his hat to the bum. “Thank you kindly.”
“My neighborhood,” the old man muttered. He tucked back into the corner and pulled his jacket more tightly around him. “I know everything that goes on around here.” Pocketing Leroy’s flask, he shut his eyes to resume his nap.
***
It took Hunt a few passes up and down Franklin Street to find the place—a dingy storefront under the elevated tracks with nothing but a small placard in the window announcing its name. Leroy concluded that their low profile meant they weren’t interested in attracting new customers. Once the cowboy entered the place, he also concluded that they must be having trouble hanging onto whatever down-at-the-heels customers they already had. The business consisted of a few rickety chairs and a reception desk staffed by a middle-aged woman with aggressively-teased red hair. She sat typing at a computer keyboard. Glancing up briefly from her work, she asked, “May I help you?”
The cowboy removed his hat as he advanced to her desk. “I surely hope so, ma’am. I’m tryin’ to locate a party that moved out of the neighborhood a couple months back. Lady by the name of Rhonda? She owned an antique shop a few blocks down from here.”
“Oh yes, I remember her,” the receptionist said readily. “She and her daughter were moving out of state.”
“Her daughter?” Leroy repeated blankly.
The woman treated him to a doubtful stare. “Well, if you’re a friend of Rhonda’s you must have met her daughter Hannah.”
Hunt swallowed hard. He couldn’t believe it was going to be this easy. The two birds he was after had flown the coop together. One well-aimed rock could take care of them both. “Oh, yes ma’am. I met her a couple times. Pretty blond gal, around fifteen or so?”
The woman’s suspicious expression evaporated. “Yes, that’s her. Rhonda told me they were moving out west to be closer to her family.”
“Pinin’ for the kinfolks, eh? Well, there’s no place like home,” Leroy agreed sententiously. “You wouldn’t happen to have their new address, would you? It so happens I’ll be travelin’ out that way. Might as well look ‘em up while I’m there.”
The receptionist paused to take in his cowboy hat, string tie, and snakeskin boots. “You must be from out west yourself. The way you’re dressed.”
Leroy didn’t feel inclined to correct her. “Yes, ma’am,” he agreed simply.
She refocused her attention on her computer. “I should have their new address on file. Just a minute.” The woman typed a few keystrokes and scowled at her monitor until it displayed the information. “Here we are,” she said at last. Taking a slip of notepaper, she scribbled out the location and handed it to Hunt.
He stole a look at the address. So, they’d holed up somewhere in Phoenix, Arizona. It might be halfway across the country, but that wasn’t going to be far enough to keep them out of his sights. “Much obliged, ma’am.” Hunt turned to go.
“Give my regards to Rhonda and her daughter when you see them,” the receptionist called after him as he reached the door.
Hunt paused on the threshold to put on his hat, a grim smile forming on his lips. “I’ll be sure to do that.”
Chapter 12—Club Rules
Faye stood in her backyard looking upward. Shading her eyes, she contemplated an apple tree with a ripe crop of fruit hanging low on the branches.
“Hey, Gamma, how’s it going?” Zachary loped up beside her without warning.
“Gracious, where did you come from?” She turned to regard her descendent in surprise.
“You must really be out of it if you didn’t hear my bad muffler when I drove up.”
“Sound doesn’t carry all the way to the backyard so, fortunately, I didn’t hear it. I’m sure the neighbors did though. They’ve started to complain to me. Zachary, you really must get that thing fixed.”
“As soon as I can scrape together a few bucks, I will.” He turned to scan the back of the house. “Is Hannah around?” he asked hopefully.
“I remember when you used to visit because you enjoyed the pleasure of my company,” Faye observed wryly.
The boy stammered with embarrassment. “I... uh... uh... I still do, Gamma. It’s just that...” he trailed off.
“Don’t worry about sparing my feelings. I can still recall what it was like being your age—back when dinosaurs roamed the earth.” She chuckled. “I’m afraid you just missed my young protégé. She was invited to the mall with some of her classmates.”
A look of alarm
