Dark City

29.

Nathan contracted the muscles in his arms, chest and core as he used the pull-up bar installed on his doorframe. He was getting strong again, and he found it much easier to lift himself these days. He'd lost about twenty pounds since his return, not including how much was in his missing leg accounted for. He didn't need that leg. What was it but dead weight?

After days of cleaning his guns and readjusting to his customized cocktail of antidepressants and hard liquor, he felt that old ache for excitement.

He hopped into his Buick and sped the dinosaur out of the neighborhood, tires howling like banshees. He cranked his window open and the outside air rushed over him. His black hair whipped in front of his eyes and the mirrors shook. He squeezed the steering wheel and accelerated.

He realized he was running on fumes. There was a gas station just outside the neighborhood, so he pulled up and parked at a pump. As he handed the gas attendant his card, he saw something unexpected.

A couple in a red Corvette had parked on the other side of the pump. The man handed his card to the attendant and got out. The young woman sitting in the passenger seat was beautiful, and there was only one redhead in Neptune Township that beautiful this time of year. She had her eyes hidden behind sunglasses, but she was definitely Lacey Hart. Nathan listened in on her music: Jefferson Airplane, an interesting choice.

Her mystery man had a clean-shaven head and a square jaw that didn't budge. He was over six feet tall and heavy with muscle, mid-thirties at the youngest. He wore a white dress shirt that was too small for his musculature and faded business slacks that were rumpled and worn at the bottom. He had a scar running down from his forehead to his cheek, the kind of scar someone would remember, the kind of scar someone did remember. Nathan got out of his vehicle and skirted the back of the corvette, stealing a picture of the license plate with his cell phone. The top was down so he could see the white leather seats, the crisp detailing and of course, the hostage.

Lacey freshened her lipstick in the vanity mirror and then snapped the sun visor back up. She had each of her nails painted different colors, some fresh, some chipped.

"Lacey," Nathan said. She folded her arms, pretending not to hear him and again he said, "Lacey."

She tapped her rainbow fingernails against her arm. "Not a good time."

"What are you doing?"

"Tom and I have an arrangement."

"Yeah. Classy. How long has it been since his plane took off?"

Her eyes were impenetrable behind those shades and she was clearly attempting to appear as if she didn't know him.

"Who is this guy?"

"Get lost, white knight. I can handle myself," she said. Normally, he would have backed off. But he noticed suddenly that she was wearing a green beetle earring on her upper lobe. It matched the one he had seen in Ghost Woods. The name Morgan La Faye slithered through his brain like an eel.

"All right." Nathan returned to his car. He stayed to watch Lacey's friend coming out of the convenience store, joined by one of the employees. Nathan recognized those sunken eyes and hollow cheeks anywhere. Jacob Serrell pulled out a pack of cigarettes and lit up. He offered Lacey's friend a smoke. He accepted, pocketing the pack and then handing a different pack of cigarettes to Jacob as if it were the first. They put out their cigarettes before they were finished smoking them.

The man returned to Lacey and they took off in a hurry. Jacob sauntered away. Nathan started up his car and followed him around the corner to the bus stop.

Everything was coming together in his mind. Jacob was tied to the guy with the suspicious vehicle. Maybe prince charming picked the girls up, but Jacob got them high enough so they would let him enact his perverse fantasies.