Fear the Worst: A Thriller

That was certainly possible.

 

“What’s the big deal about this anyway?” Andy asked. “So I gave Jeff the guy’s number, and I offered it to Patty, and maybe she gave it to Sydney? If they got some work out of it, why are you all over my ass about it?”

 

“Do you know what this guy wanted Jeff to do?” I asked.

 

Andy shook his head. “I don’t know. I never heard any more about it. Didn’t it work out?”

 

“He wanted Jeff to rip off credit card numbers.”

 

“Well, shit, that’s not legal,” Andy said.

 

Maybe, another time, I might have laughed. Instead, I asked Andy, “Did you see that guy I went for a test drive with two days ago? He said his name was Eric, but it was a fake name. Could that have been Gary?”

 

Andy shook his head. “I didn’t see the guy.”

 

“Do you have any idea whether Sydney might ever have gotten in touch with him?”

 

He gave half a nod. “A few weeks ago, before summer started, she dropped by to see you, stopped by my desk, and I asked whether she was going to be working at Riverside Honda again for the summer. She said no, she needed a bit of distance from her dad, that Patty had put her onto something else—maybe she got that number from her—and the bonus was you got paid in cash so you avoided all kinds of tax and shit.”

 

“And it never occurred to you to mention this to me? To the police?”

 

“I didn’t know it meant anything,” he said. “Swear to God.”

 

I backed away from him, exhausted. “Have you seen Patty around lately?”

 

His face seemed to flush. “No,” he said.

 

“When was the last time?”

 

“I don’t know. Probably that day she dropped by to see you.”

 

“Probably?” I asked. Andy seemed to be hedging.

 

“No, really. I’d see her the odd time, but I haven’t seen her in a while. Why?”

 

“No one’s seen her for a couple of days,” I said.

 

Andy’s face flashed with worry. “Shit. She’s gone, too?”

 

“Yeah,” I said. “How well do you know her?”

 

“Not… really well,” he said.

 

“What are you not telling me?” I asked.

 

He shrugged uncomfortably. “We hooked up a couple of times,” he said. “It was nothing.”

 

“Hooked up? You slept with her?”

 

“Listen, it’s not like she’s Mother Teresa, you know? I mean, she’s been with more guys than I’ve been with girls, and she’s like five years younger—”

 

He stopped himself.

 

“Yeah,” I said. “She is like five years younger than you are. What’s the problem, Andy? Can’t get dates your own age?”

 

“I do okay,” he said.

 

I didn’t want to ask, but felt I had to. “What about you and Sydney?”

 

He shook his head adamantly. “No way, man. I never touched her. I mean, with your desk next to mine? I didn’t want to hook up with her in case you found out and, you know, wanted to pound the shit out of me or something.”

 

He was dumb enough to steal my customers, but not that dumb.

 

“You’re going to do something for me,” I said.

 

“Okay,” he said.

 

“You’re going to find this Gary for me.”

 

“do that?”

 

“What’s this bar where you’d see him all the time?”

 

“JD’s,” he said. I’d seen it out on Naugatuck Avenue, although I’d never been inside. It had been a long time since I’d hung out in bars. “I could go after work, see if he’s there, ask around for him.”

 

“Good idea,” I said. “If you see him, or get a lead on him, you’re going to call me right away. Understand?”

 

“Sure. Then what? You going to call the cops?”

 

“We’ll see. We’re not exactly on speaking terms at the moment.”

 

 

 

THIRTY-TWO

 

 

ANDY STILL HAD TO FINISH OUT HIS SHIFT, which went to six. He said he’d head over to JD’s after that, but wasn’t hopeful that Gary, if he showed up at all, would make an appearance before eight. But if he saw any other patrons that he could remember being in Gary’s company in the past, he’d ask where he might be able to find him.

 

In the meantime, there were others I wanted to talk to. Patty Swain’s mother, for one. A visit to see her seemed long overdue.

 

I went back into the dealership, wound my way through the showroom of gleaming, tightly packed cars, and dropped into the chair behind my desk. Laura didn’t appear to have found anyone to use it temporarily, so I made myself at home long enough to look up some phone numbers.

 

I found a Milford address for a Swain. In all the time Syd and Patty had been friends, I’d never actually driven to Patty’s house, never had to drop Sydney off or pick her up there. I made a note of the address and wrote it down.

 

I was getting up from my chair when I found Laura Cantrell standing in my path.

 

“A moment?” she asked. I followed her into her office and she asked me to close the door. “What’s going on with you and Andy?”

 

“That’s between us,” I said.

 

“Where’s my car?”

 

By that, she had to mean the one I’d not returned. “The police have it,” I said. “The back end got shot up.”

 

Linwood Barclay's books