Page 20 of All In Good Time
Marty hummed and slowed the car at a red light. “He picked the right place then.”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean, in a college town like this, in a state where all anyone does is drink—it would be easy to find plenty of bars that won’t ID him.”
“So we just need to look for places like that?” Becca nodded. “How do we do that?”
Marty smirked at her, then started to drive again as the light turned green. “You’re so lucky to have me.”
* * *
Marty knew someone who knew someone who said that the best bars for kids their age was in any college town. Apparently, all the bars that didn’t ID were right by the university area, and the people they wanted the most were the students, who were desperate to live out the American college experience.
This wasn’t an issue in Highburg, because nearly any bar let anyone in.
Becca’s hopes were rising, and she had more energy than before as they pulled into a gas station parking lot. Marty parked and went in, saying he was going to grab a map of the area.
While he was away, Becca went to the pay phone against the building and rummaged through her pockets for some spare change so she could make a call.
Winston wasn’t happy to get a call so late, but when she said her name, his voice softened slightly over the line. She quickly explained the situation, giving him a small update on their progress and asked for an update on Mal. She was fine—asleep and safe with Jane in her bedroom for the time being.
Becca sighed in relief and leaned her forehead against the metal of the booth. There was some good news. Hopefully, she would have some more in a short while and she could really relax.
Out of the corner of her eye, the glass doors of the gas station opened again, and Marty came out, carrying a map. He caught sight of her and waved it in the air for her to see that he’d successfully gotten it.
She quickly excused herself from the call and walked over to him—hopeful. “Any information?”
“More than just any. The clerk in there apparently doubles as an underage bar guide or something. He showed me every single spot without even having to pay him.” He flipped the map down so she could see what he was talking about. It was an ordinary-looking map, nearly identical to the one she’d left in Derek’s car—except for the red circles that marked about twelve different spots on different streets and corners. “Just like I said, they’re all around the university.”
Becca exhaled slowly, and for a moment she thought she might cry in relief. She could feel it. They had to besoclose.
“Let’s go.” She didn’t need to be convinced.
They left the gas station and headed out to the nearest dot. And then the next, then the next.
The first bar was closed. The second one, Becca immediately knew he wouldn’t be at. She walked in and the place was nicer, cleaner—a more upscale place for the privileged out-of-state students. She didn’t try to look too much into a place like that.
But the next few were more in tune with where Derek might choose to hang out. They were cheaper, greasier, easier to spend your last cent in. Just the type of place a runaway would go. But he wasn’t at five of those. Two more were already closed, and their options were running low with each bar they checked and the nearing last call.
What if she had been wrong?
What if Derek wasn’t in Madison at all? It was possible he’d gone somewhere else, maybe Chicago, or even as far as California, though she doubted he would make it with the little cash she knew he had. What if she didn’t know him as well as she thought, and they were looking in all the wrong places?
While Marty followed the street signs and map markings, her eyes remained peeled for the boy she knew so well and the car she’d ridden in a million times. Her hands began to wring together again, and she bit her lip, as her eyes scanned every face on the street, as if one of them would be his. Once, there was someone with hair like his—long, curly, and dirty blond. She nearly jumped out of the car as it was moving, but when they passed by, her shoulders slumped when she saw a stranger’s face. She bit her lip and held back desperate tears.
Marty pulled into a narrow parking lot, right next to another bar, and Becca looked around the area. It was slightly more secluded than the others, with neon lights over the door. It was also darker where they parked, as there were fewer streetlamps than the other places they went.
That’s why she almost missed it, because it was in the far back corner, sitting in nearly black shadows that made the dark metal blend in—a Monte Carlo. The license plate confirmed everything she needed to know.
Marty was saying something, but Becca heard nothing. Her ears were filled with white noise as he put the car into park, a loud ringing making it impossible to hear anything other than her heart.
She jumped out the second the doors unlocked and ran up the dirty sidewalk and through the black doors of the bar, into the smoke-filled room. It took a moment for the haze to clear, but if anyone were to ask in the future about this moment, she knew exactly what she would tell them.
She always told Derek that she could find him in a crowded room without trying. No matter what, she was drawn to him the second they were within proximity of one another.
And just like that, despite the smoke and the bodies and the music and stumbling of last-minute drunks, her eyes landed on him the second her feet were on the stained floor.
She didn’t need some ray of angelic light to guide her way. He was there, clearer than anything she had seen since he left.
