As Tom drove along High Street, he was relieved to see that there were some lights on in the businesses lining Columbus’s main artery. This was little solace, though, because he still felt as desperate and alone as he had in his dream. He actually considered calling Peg just to hear her voice, but immediately dismissed the idea. That would only compound his problems.
Since Ohio State University was nearest Tracy’s apartment, he had decided to begin his search there. Cruising south along the snow-covered thoroughfare, he kept his eyes peeled for any businesses beginning with “bee” on either side of the road. The snow had tapered off to flurries and traffic was understandably light.
He went as far south as Fifth Avenue and turned east, opting to make a sweep up Fourth Street until he was at Lane again. There were only a few businesses along the way-much of this area was comprised of off-campus apartment rentals.
He reached Lane, took a left and headed south on Summit Street. There were a few more businesses among the rental properties but nothing that started with “bee.” He checked the dashboard clock and realized that he had been cruising the streets for nearly fifteen minutes. He wondered what might have happened to Tracy in all of this time-if she were even alive now. The feelings of frustration and remorse were palpable as he determined to wrap up his search on OSU’s west campus before heading downtown to Capital State.
He checked his fuel gauge and realized he would have to refuel soon if he was going to keep this up any longer. He spotted a BP station, pulled up beside a pump and fished through his wallet for a credit card.
As he watched the pump’s numbers flicker by at a staggering speed, he questioned whether he had made the right decision leaving Tracy’s apartment instead of waiting for the police. There probably would have been a much better chance of finding her with the cops on his side, he conceded with regret. His sudden impulse to go on this fishing expedition by himself had been a foolish move.
Screw this, he thought. He needed to get back to Tracy’s apartment pronto and let the cops do their job.
He jammed the fuel nozzle back into the pump, screwed on the gas cap and tore off his receipt. Then something on the pump caught his attention.