Part 22 (1/2)
”What's the name of the restaurant?”
”Buckeye Bob's.”
”Cute.”
”I'm sure someone thought so.”
”Did the sergeant say if Johnson remembered Channing?”
”I didn't get the impression that they questioned him. I think they just located him and confirmed that he's the same Ronald Johnson.”
”Well, then, I guess he's all ours.”
”Guess he is.” Miranda stared out the window. Autumn had come and gone here, leaving the trees mostly bare.
”It's almost Halloween,” she said. ”Few more days . . .”
”What?”
”I said, it will be Halloween in a few days.”
”I wondered why I keep having this sudden urge to rip the sheet off the bed and cut holes in it.”
”I would have expected something more creative from you. Please don't disillusion me by telling me that the white sheet was your costume of choice.”
”Actually, I didn't have a favorite costume. I mean, I didn't have costumes.”
”They didn't trick-or-treat where you grew up?”
”Well, yeah, they did. At least, everyone else did.”
”Are you saying you never trick-or-treated?” She frowned. ”Every kid trick-or-treats on Halloween, Fletcher.”
”Not quite everyone.”
”So what was the deal? Chocolate allergy? Fear of rubber masks and fake teeth?”
”My parents wouldn't let us go.” He glanced over with an odd smile plastered on his face. ”Halloween is the devil's holiday. Didn't you know that?”
”Huh?”
”Sure. It's all about devil wors.h.i.+p. It's a celebration of the occult.”
”You believe that?”
”No. But my parents did.”
”Wow.” She tried to think of something more intelligent to say, but could not.
”Yeah, wow. That pretty much sums it up.”
”I'm . . . I'm sorry, Will.”
”Thank you, Cahill. That's the nicest thing you've said to me in a long time.” He continued staring straight ahead. ”What was the name of that road again?”
”Essington.”
They drove in silence for another minute, then Miranda said, ”It's kind of sad, don't you think, that we know so little about each other? I mean, we've slept together a dozen or so times, and we don't really know each other very well at all.”
”I think the times we slept together, we weren't concerned about how well we knew each other.”
”That doesn't speak well for either of us.” There was a hint of regret in her voice.
”It's not too late, you know.”
”For what?”
”To get to know each other.”
”Maybe,” she said softly.
”I'll take that as a yes.”
”There's Essington up there at the light.” She pointed.
”Are you trying to change the subject?”
”You betcha. Take a left here.”
”And then what?”
”Then you go about three hundred yards to . . . yes, there it is. Buckeye Bob's. Right where it's supposed to be. Pull in here. . . .”
He made a right into the parking lot and stopped the car.
”What are you doing?”
”Waiting for you to tell me where to park.”
”Very funny. Move it.”
He grinned and made a wide circle in the parking lot before parking the car in a s.p.a.ce near the front door.
”Is this close enough for you?” he asked.
”You are pus.h.i.+ng your luck today, Fletcher.” She got out of the car, slammed the door, and walked up the wide concrete steps, then paused at the top to wait for Will.
”I trust you'd like to do most of the talking,” he said as he came up the steps.
”Well, I am lead on the case, but you can feel free to chime in at any time.”