“So why were you afraid to talk on the phone?” Gary asked.
“Your buddy, Sheriff Watt.”
Reyn explained that Brian had discovered that the sheriff’s brother had been stalking his ex-wife, who claimed they were both “outsiders.”
Gary thought about how little interest the sheriff had shown in his kidnapping, and the way he had made no effort to confront the woman at the ranch house. It made sense.
“What I want to know is why he didn’t do anything.” Reyn said. “Why didn’t he turn you back in? Why didn’t you have some sort of accident?”
“Reyn!” Stacy said.
“They’re legitimate questions.”
Gary thought about it. “He wasn’t the only person I talked to. He wasn’t even the first person I talked to. I told my story to the secretary and a deputy before I even got a chance to tell the sheriff. Maybe there were too many people around.”
“He could have arranged something,” Reyn said. “He got his brother off.”
“He still could. He has my name, address, phone number. I had to give him all of my personal information for his report.”
“Anyway, that’s why I didn’t want to say anything on the phone. In case it put you in danger. The sheriff found that motel room for you; maybe he had it bugged.”
Gary was trying to figure out what connection a small-town sheriff could have with an entity powerful and sophisticated enough to delete social networking pages and enrollment records at UCLA.
They had left the bus terminal and were walking through the parking lot toward Reyn’s car.
“The police,” Stacy prodded.
“Oh, yeah,” Reyn said. “Williams wants to see you. I filed a missing persons report. Sort of. I mean, it hadn’t been forty-eight hours yet, so it couldn’t be official. And I had to talk to that asshole Tucker first, who tried to make out like you’d pulled a disappearing act to take the heat off all the crimes you’ve committed.” He smiled. “But Williams took it seriously and promised to look for you. I think he was legit. I told him this morning that you were on your way back, and he wanted you to come in.”
Gary thought for a moment. “I’ll call him, tell him what happened, let him get in touch with old Sheriff Watt if he wants more details.”
“Aren’t you going to tell him about the sheriff?” Stacy asked. “I know it’s probably out of his jurisdiction, but there must be some mechanism where one law enforcement agency can request the investigation of another.”
Gary shook his head. “Williams is all right, but he’s barely on board as it is. I’m not sure he even totally believes us about Joan. Getting him to open an investigation of a small-town sheriff in New Mexico because the sheriff’s brother’s ex-wife mentioned the word ‘outsiders’ in a police report you looked up on the Internet seems a little far-fetched.” He took a deep breath. “Besides, the cops haven’t found Joan, they didn’t find me, and I’m thinking it’s time we went another way.”
Reyn frowned. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“I’m not sure yet.”
“The police are working on it.”
“Let them keep working on it,” Gary said. “But I’m going to work on it, too.”
They reached Reyn’s car, and before getting in, Gary stood there for a moment, looking around. There was a wide, crowded street in front of the terminal, and buildings crammed close together in both directions. Above the buildings loomed the Hollywood Hills and, beyond, outlined in the white haze of smog, the San Gabriel Mountains. The air smelled of ethnic food and exhaust fumes, and he realized with a sharpness he had never experienced before that this was where he wanted to live, that even after he graduated from college, he intended to make Los Angeles his home.
With Joan.
Yes, Joan had to be a part of it, too, and as he got into the car he was filled with a renewed sense of urgency. The more time passed, the less imperative it would be for the police to try to find her. Other cases would come up, and simple human nature dictated that the longer she remained missing, the less likely it was that they’d believe she could be found. Even his friends would probably lose focus. He couldn’t allow that to happen.
“What about Kara?” Gary asked as Reyn started the engine. “Any news?”
“None that they’re sharing.”
Brian called while they were en route, and Stacy took the phone from Reyn’s pocket to answer. She told him that, yes, Gary was safely back; then she handed the phone to Gary so he could describe his ordeal himself.
“Fuck,” Brian said when he was finished.
“Yeah.”
“It’s worse than Reyn said.”
“I’m glad to be back,” Gary admitted.
“Where are you going now?”
“The dorm. My room.”
“I’ll meet you there.”
Brian was sitting on a bench in front of the building when they walked up, and the four of them went into the dorm together. As always, the halls were crowded with talking, laughing, jostling students, and Gary marveled at the fact that those three Outsiders had been able to just walk in, break into his room and kidnap him. Although, amid such chaos, perhaps it shouldn’t have been so surprising.
They reached the third floor.
The door to his room was closed but unlocked, and Gary slowly pushed it open, taking a quick step back, just in case. The room was empty. He quickly checked his belongings, but as far as he could tell, nothing had been stolen, nothing had been moved. His heart was pounding as he stared at the spot where the two men had grabbed and held him while the third punched him in the stomach. They had his keys, he thought. And whether those keys were buried along with their dead bodies somewhere near the ranch in New Mexico, or whether copies had been made and distributed to cells of Outsiders all over the United States, Gary knew that he would never again feel safe in this room. He had to find another place to live and sleep. Starting tonight.
“What are you going to do for money?” Brian asked. “I assume your ATM card was in your wallet, along with all of your cash. And I doubt that you can access your bank account without ID—assuming that they haven’t cleaned out your account already.”
He hadn’t thought of that.
“I can loan you a few bucks until your next paycheck,” Brian said.
Reyn nodded. “Me, too.”
“I’m not sure there’s going to be a next paycheck. It’s a work-study job. If they’ve fucked up my school records, they’ve probably screwed that up for me, too.”
“Could you have your parents wire you some money?” Stacy asked. “I’m not exactly sure how that works, but I think it’s instantaneous.”
“Yeah,” Gary said, nodding. “I’ll talk to them.”
Both of his neighbors, Matt and Greg, suddenly poked their heads inside the room. “Dude!” Greg said. “You’re back! People’ve been lookin’ for you.”
“Yeah,” Matt said. “And one of them was that guy.” He pointed to Reyn.
Reyn rolled his eyes. “Thanks,” he said. “You can leave now.”
“Wait a minute.” Gary walked up to Matt. “Did you say one of them?”
“Yeah. The other guys were these eco-freaks with, like, hemp clothes and shit.”
Gary and Reyn exchanged a glance. “And when,” Gary asked, “did these guys come by?”
“This morning. They were, like, skulking around, trying to be all inconspicuous—”
“Which was pretty hard in those clothes,” Greg interrupted.
“Yeah. But one of them opened your door, and then he saw us looking at him and pretended he was just passing by, and then he was gone.”