13

“I don’t want any more beer,” Kim said.

Luther said, “When Jerry comes back, I’ll settle up and go to the hotel.”

“Where is Jerry?” Kim asked. “It’s been a while.”

Luther looked at his watch. “See if you can get our bill, I’ll collect Jerry.”

He went away, and Kim gestured to the waiter that they wanted the check. He nodded and went away inside and soon came out with a rectangular black plastic folder advertising American Express. Kim let it sit there.

But now, where was Luther? This was becoming a long time. Were they having some sort of talk in the men’s room? A fight, maybe? Or had they just left without her?

Twice the waiter passed, giving her a raised-eyebrow look, and twice she merely smiled blankly at him. She was about to dig out her own limited cash when Luther sat down, abruptly, across from her, as though he’d been dropped there. He had a very strange expression on his face, like someone who has heard an inexplicable but frightening noise. He said, “He isn’t there.”

This made no sense. Kim looked toward the restrooms. “What’s he doing?”

“He’s gone, Kim, he isn’t there.”

Kim looked more closely at Luther, saw the sudden anxiety there beneath the disbelief. Instinctively she reached out to put a hand on his forearm as she said, “Luther! He can’t be gone.”

“No one in the men’s room,” Luther said. “None of the staff remembers seeing him go in or come out.”

“But— He went in there, we saw him go in. And he didn’t come out, Luther, we’d have seen him.”

Luther abruptly stood, and stared hard at everything he could see up and down the street and around the tables. She thought he was looking for Jerry, but when he sat down again he said, “That man isn’t here. The one who’s been following us.”

“Luther… What do you think happened?”

“I don’t know.” He had a stunned look. He said, “Did Jerry confront him? Jerry wouldn’t confront him.”

“You think Jerry ran away? Or that man ran away and Jerry followed him? But still, how could he come out here past us?”

“There’s a window,” Luther told her. “In the men’s room, rather small, but you could climb out it.”

“But why would he?”

“Maybe he saw something?” Luther shook his head. “If he suddenly saw something, no time to tell us, had to follow…” Another headshake. “Or did that man attack him? But why would he, after all this time, why change what he’s doing? And Jerry can handle himself, he’s no pushover.”

She squeezed his forearm, saying, “He’s all right, we know that. There’s an explanation.”

The waiter was hovering again, but Luther was too distracted to notice. “If he’d left a message, a note, but there’s nothing.”

Kim said, “Luther,” and nodded at the waiter.

“What?” Luther looked up, understood, and said, “Oh, yes, of course.”

While Luther got his wallet out and fished out a card, Kim said, “Something urgent happened, and he had to hurry away. He’ll expect us to go back to the hotel.”

“Yes, of course.”

“He’ll get a message to us there,” Kim went on, “as soon as he can. It could be there now, for all we know.”

“Yes. You’re right, Kim. I’m sure you’re right.”

* * *

There was no message at the hotel, nor did they see the hulking follower anywhere, either outside or in the lobby. As they rode up together in the elevator, Kim said, “Do you think we should phone the police?”

“Not yet,” Luther said.

She followed him into his room, his and Jerry’s. It was very messy, as always. She sat in the one chair, by the window, while he paced.

He said, “We could still hear from him.”

“Of course we could. How long has he been gone? Half an hour?”

“Closer to an hour,” he told her.

“He’ll call. Or he’ll show up.”

“What we’ll do, Kim, we’ll have dinner, we’ll spend the evening here, and in the morning—”

“In the morning! Luther…”

“If we haven’t heard from Jerry,” Luther went on, “then we’ll call the police.”

“Jerry will be back long before then,” she said, but it sounded stupid even as she was saying it.