Day Four
July 24, 1952
Thursday Afternoon
The clouds thickened and dropped lower. Ordinarily they had the same effect on Wilde as sunshine did, except in the opposite direction. Right now he could care less about them. Things were good between him and Emmanuelle. They were on solid ground again. They had a future.
London was waiting for him in Blondie.
“You look like you just got laid,” she said.
Wilde lit a cigarette.
“No one can tell that just by looking at another person’s face.”
“I wasn’t looking at your face.”
She cast her eyes down.
He followed them.
His fly was open.
He zipped up, cranked over the engine and squeezed into traffic. They went to the office to see if Alabama had taken a taxi over from her post at River’s.
She hadn’t.
The place was empty.
Nor had she been there, everything was the same.
Wilde scratched his head.
“Okay, here’s the deal. You stay here. Keep the door locked. There’s a gun in the top drawer of the desk. If anyone forces their way in, shoot first and ask questions later.”
He headed for the door.
“Where are you going?”
“To see Alabama first,” he said. “If the guy showed up at River’s, we’ll try to track him. If he hasn’t shown up, I’ll have to decide whether to go to River and give him the message that the map’s a fake.”
“We still don’t have the real one.”
“We’ll get it by tonight.”
“How?”
“I don’t know,” he said. “One thing at a time.”
“Crockett has it.”
“I know.”
“I’ll get it from him while you’re gone,” London said.
“No, just stay here. I already have enough to worry about.”
“I just can’t sit here,” she said. “I won’t.”
Wilde recognized the look in her eyes. He got the gun from the drawer and handed it to her.
“Where do I carry it?”
Good question.
Her purse was gone.
Wilde grabbed a paper bag out of the cupboard.
The gun went inside.
Twenty minutes later he was on the roof of the abandoned warehouse with a white paper bag in his left hand. Inside that bag was a grilled cheese sandwich, a pack of peanut butter crackers and a chocolate bar. In his other hand was a bottle of RC.
Alabama wasn’t there.
“Alabama.”
No answer.
He checked behind the vent just to be sure she hadn’t fallen asleep back there.
She hadn’t.
She wasn’t there.
He headed back into the building to see if she was taking a leak somewhere.
“’Bama!”
No answer.
She must have headed over to the BNSF office.
Wilde headed back to the roof to have a quick peek at River’s place. As he got closer to the parapet, he spotted the binoculars sitting on the ledge.
That was strange.
Then he saw something even stranger.
Alabama’s purse was over by the heating unit.
He opened it up and rummaged through. It was hers all right. She must be around somewhere.
“Alabama!”
Silence.
He leaned over the parapet and checked the ground to see if she’d fallen off.
She wasn’t down there.
He checked everywhere.
She wasn’t there, not on the roof, not inside the building, not even in the area around it.
Wilde went back to the roof and pulled in River’s place with the binoculars.
It was empty.
The doors were shut.
His car was gone.