Dancing in the Dark (15 page)

A few minutes later, Matthew reached the cafe. There were small
tables set up on the sidewalk, but he opted for the interior’s
air-conditioning. Scanning the room, he saw that all the tables were
filled, but there was one seat open at the end of the counter. He slid
onto the stool, next to a balding, middle-aged man.

“What’ll it be?” asked the waitress.

“Some coffee, for starters, Anna,” Matthew said, reading her name
tag. “Black, no sugar. Then I’d like a couple of eggs, over easy, and
whole wheat toast.”

“Bacon?”

“Why not? Life is short.”

The middle-aged man turned to look at him, leaving Matthew with the
feeling he had said something wrong. Matthew smiled uncertainly.

“How ya doin?” he asked the man.

“Fine.” The man took a drink of orange juice. “You here on vacation?”

“No, but I wish I were. It’s beautiful around here.”

The man nodded as he reached into his pocket, pulled out a white business card, and handed it to Matthew.
“I’m Larry Belcaro, Surfside Realty. If you’re ever looking for a place
in Ocean Grove or Asbury Park, I’m your man.”

“Thanks, Larry,” said Matthew, slipping the card in his pocket and
seizing the opportunity to talk to a local. “So I guess you live around
here?”

“Yep. Been in Ocean Grove for over twenty years.”

“Family?”

Larry looked down at the counter, and Matthew was immediately sorry
that he’d asked. “Not anymore,” the man answered quietly.

Matthew’s bacon and eggs arrived, relieving the awkwardness of the
moment. He took a bite of his toast, folded his newspaper, and
positioned it on a clear section of the counter. “This is some story,
isn’t it?” he asked, motioning with his fork in the direction of the
newsprint.

Larry nodded. “Yeah, it’s hard to believe that all this has been
happening in our little town. It’s usually so nice and quiet around
here. You shouldn’t think we have a high crime rate or anything.”

Matthew shook his head, realizing that the salesman wanted Ocean
Grove to be seen in the best possible light. “No, I wasn’t thinking
that at all.”

The waitress came back, refilled their coffee cups, and left both
checks on the counter. As Larry picked his up, Matthew spoke. “It says
in the article the missing girl works here. Do you know her?”

Larry nodded. “She was a pretty little thing. Always bright and
chipper when she waited on me. But I used to tease her that she should
eat something herself. She was too thin if you ask me, just like Anna
here.” Larry nodded in the direction of their waitress as he laid her
tip on the counter and maneuvered himself off the stool. “Well, gotta
go. But remember, if you’re ever in the market for some real estate,
call me.”

“Will do.” Matthew smiled and watched Larry walk out the front door,
noting that he had referred to Carly Neath entirely in the past tense.

As Diane was going down the stairs, she met Michelle coming up. Her
daughter’s face was bright red, and brown strands had escaped the
covered elastic band that pulled her hair back in a ponytail.

“Have a good run?”

“Yeah, it was fine.”

“Where’d you go?”

“Up and down the boardwalk a couple of times.”

Diane nodded. “I’m going down to the dining room to get something to
eat. Want to come with me?”

“No, thanks. I want to go up and take a shower.”

Diane’s face fell.

“What now, Mom?”

“Listen, honey. I want to be able to spend some time with you. I
have to go to work in about an hour, and I don’t know when I’ll be
back. I just was hoping we could sit down together for a little while.”

Michelle sighed heavily. “All right.” Diane ignored the grudging
tone in her daughter’s voice.

When they entered the dining room, Diane noticed Sammy Gates sitting
at a table by the window. At another time she would have forced herself
to invite him to join them, but this morning she just waved, called a
greeting, and led the way to a table in the corner on the opposite side
of the room. Carlos came over right away, took their drink orders, and
pointed to the buffet.

“Help yourself to as much as you want,” he said. “If you want toast,
just let me know and I’ll make it in the back. But you must try the
sticky buns. Kip bakes them, and they’re absolutely divine.”

“Shall we?” Diane asked her daughter.

The buffet table was laden with silver chafing dishes containing
scrambled eggs, sausage, and home-fried potatoes. A napkin-lined wicker
basket held blueberry muffins and mini bagels. There was a big crystal
bowl full of granola ready to be scooped into flowered bowls and a
pretty pitcher full of milk. The special sticky buns were displayed on
a large round tray. Their aroma was intoxicating.

“Wow, this looks delicious,” Diane said. Not knowing when she would
get another chance to eat, she began helping herself to a bit of almost
everything.

“Is that all you’re going to have?” she asked, staring at the dollop
of scrambled eggs and the lone bagel on Michelle’s plate.

“That’s all I want right now, Mom.”

“Oh, come on, honey. You have to eat more than that,” Diane urged.

“No, Mom, this is all I want.”

They went back to their table, and Carlos brought Michelle’s Diet
Coke and Diane’s iced tea.

“It’s not good to drink soda so early in the day, honey.”

Michelle rolled her eyes. “Stop nagging me, will you, Mom?”

Diane salted her eggs. “I’m not nagging you. I’m just a little
worried about you, sweetheart, that’s all.”

Michelle took a sip of soda before answering. “You don’t have to
worry about me. I’m fine.”

“Are you, Michelle? Are you really fine?” Diane searched her
daughter’s face.

“You mean about Daddy?”

“Partly,” Diane said softly.

“What’s the other part?”

Diane took a deep breath and then blurted it out. “I’m worried about
the way you’ve been eating, Michelle. I’ve noticed that you barely pick
at your food, and I think you’ve lost some weight.”

Michelle’s face brightened. “You think I look thinner? Great.”

“Honey, you didn’t need to lose an ounce. You look wonderful.”

“You’re my mother. Of course you’re going to say that.”

Diane put down her fork. “No, I mean it, Michelle. You look just
fine, in fact I think you could stand to gain a few pounds.”

“No way.” Michelle frowned.

“I’m not saying you have to put the weight you’ve lost back on, but
I really think you shouldn’t be trying to lose any more.”

“You don’t get it, Mom.”

“Oh yes, I do. But I know that how thin we are isn’t the thing we
should be focusing on. It’s not the most important thing.”

Michelle sat back in her chair. “What, are you kidding me, Mom? I’ve
seen you studying yourself in the full-length mirror in your bedroom.
I’ve heard you worry about your weight all the time.”

Diane felt slapped. Had she contributed to her daughter’s obsession?
“The reason I do is because the television camera makes you look
heavier than you are. If I didn’t have to be on TV all the time, I can
assure you I wouldn’t pay so much attention to my appearance.”

“Sure, right.” Michelle smiled smugly. “Do you mean to tell me that
if you weren’t on television, you wouldn’t color your hair blond, or
have your nails done, or buy nice clothes?”

“I don’t follow you.”

“You do all those things because you want to be attractive, Mom. It
has nothing to do with being on television. You want to look good.”

Diane thought about what her daughter was saying. “Yes, but I have
to look good to make my living.”

“And I have to be thin to be popular at school, to be in the A
group, to make guys like me. You brought it up, so I’m telling you,
Mom. That’s just the way it is.” Michelle folded her arms across her
chest.

Diane wasn’t going to let those be the last words. She reached
across the table and took hold of her daughter’s arm. “Oh, Michelle,
honey. Don’t you see? It’s not what’s on the outside that counts most.
Sure, it’s nice to be physically attractive. There’s absolutely nothing
wrong with that. But it’s not healthy to be obsessed with your weight
and how you look. There are so many more important things in life. Your
character is what counts, the content of your mind and the goodness of
your heart. Not the external things.”

Michelle’s eyes glazed over. Diane could tell her daughter wasn’t
buying it.

Arthur had no shadow as he stood at the end of the boardwalk. The
sun was directly above his head, beating down mercilessly. He looked
out at all the people baking on the sand, blistering and risking
heatstroke. And they called
him
crazy.

He jumped down onto the sand and trudged toward the water, fully
aware of the stares. People were always looking at him, thinking him
odd, grateful they weren’t him. Arthur had gotten used to it.

Turning north, he left the more crowded beach of Ocean Grove behind
in favor of the neglected sands of Asbury Park. No barrier separated
one beach from the other, but the empty beer bottles, soda cans, and
paper debris littering the Asbury Park beach distinguished it from the
well-tended Ocean Grove sand just yards away.

The screeches and laughter of the children playing in the rolling
surf grew fainter as Arthur distanced himself from the sun worshipers.
He turned around to look back at them. They weren’t paying attention to
him anymore.

He tried to appear aimless as he plodded across the sand toward the
old Casino, knowing that when he did it, he had to do it like
lightning, in a flash. Just where the Casino jutted out farthest toward
the ocean, there was about two feet of space between the sand and the
giant concrete slab upon which the building stood. He cut gradually
across the scorching sand, and then he dropped down on all fours and
slithered forward on his belly into the darkness beneath the giant
concrete slab.

It took all of three seconds. Arthur was confident that no one had
seen him. No one ever did. It was dim and cool inside, a relief from
the blinding brightness and heat of the beach. As he’d been taught for
combat in Desert Storm, Arthur scurried, like a sand crab, deeper into
the darkness.

The camera crew waited on the sidewalk in front of Lavender &
Lace while Diane and Matthew went into the shop to ask for permission
to shoot the activity at the makeshift search headquarters. Once the
consent was given, Sammy and Gary carried their
gear inside, careful not to knock into the merchandise that crowded the
store.

The storeroom was abuzz with activity. People were clustered around
a giant map of the area, sipping coffee as they got their instructions
on where to search. The copy machine whirred as it printed out flyers
with Carly Neath’s smiling face. At a long trestle table, a middle-aged
man held a telephone receiver to his ear.

“That was the police,” the man said as he hung up. “They say they’re
bringing in search dogs. That’s more than they did for Leslie.”

Audrey Patterson held her finger to her lip and shook her head.
“Don’t, Lou. This isn’t the time.”

Diane overheard the exchange and realized the man must be Leslie’s
father. She was about to introduce herself when the man rose from his
chair and strode over to the doorway, coming face-to-face with a
younger man who’d just arrived.

“Hello, Mr. Patterson,” the younger man said in a low voice.

“What are you doing here?” Leslie’s father demanded.

“I came to see what I could do to help.”

“Oh, I see. You never showed up to search for Leslie, but you want
to look for Carly. That’s nice, Shawn. Haven’t you done enough already?”

“Please, Mr. Patterson. Please understand. I’m sorry about Leslie. I
just couldn’t come.”

“Couldn’t come or wouldn’t come?” Lou Patterson didn’t wait for the answer. “You have a hell of a
nerve showing your face around here, kid. First you dump my daughter,
and when she disappears you’re nowhere to be found. Now all of a sudden
you want to help find another girl who had the misfortune to get
involved with you. I know the cops are looking at you, Shawn. And
you’re here as the concerned boyfriend? What a joke.”

“That’s not true, Mr. Patterson.”

“Don’t tell me it’s not true.” Leslie’s father’s face reddened. “I
can see right through you, and so can the police. I only wish Leslie
could have seen through you too. Now get the hell out of here.”

The smell invaded the air, wafting up through Arthur’s nostrils. It
was a recognizable, distinctive smell. The odor that resulted from
sickness, revulsion, or fear. He had known all of these.

Arthur wasn’t sure if he wanted to investigate further. He had just come in to escape for a while, to get
away to somewhere dark and cool and peaceful. He sat on the old
bleacher, looked up at the hole in the auditorium ceiling, and tried to
decide what to do. He could ignore it and leave, or he could follow the
smell and see where it led.

He got up, thinking that it would be best to leave. Glass and
pebbles crunched beneath his high-top sneakers as he walked across the
bleachers, heading for the passageway back out to the beach. But as the
smell grew stronger, Arthur found himself compelled to follow it. He
stepped down to the auditorium floor and went toward the old
refreshment stand. The odor pulled him closer.

Arthur poked his head behind the counter. In the dim illumination
from the hole in the ceiling, he could see a human form lying there. He
stopped and waited to see if it moved. It didn’t.

Nervously clearing his throat three times, Arthur inched forward.
Spying the long, light hair, he forgot his reticence. He bent over the
figure and rolled it over. Pulling off the blindfold that covered the
eyes, he gasped. It was that pretty Carly Neath, Shawn’s friend. As
Arthur began to untie the gag around her mouth, he realized the smell
was coming from the vomit soaking the cloth and covering Carly’s cheeks.