Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10

Disentangling himself from Jillian’s grasp, Danny slipped into a pair of aged blue jeans and set about fixing some coffee. It was well after noon. Danny couldn’t remember the last time he’d slept in so late—not that he’d done much sleeping.

He’d just turned on the drip machine when Paul Shaw called from CJ’s Pizza and Sub.

“You gonna send someone over to get your pickup?” Shaw asked. “It’s not broke down, is it?”

Danny explained that he had no idea, and asked him if he had seen Bean.

“I remember the kid, yeah,” Shaw said, after Danny described him. “It was dead slow. He had a club sandwich and a Coke. No tip.”

Danny rang off and held the phone in his hand absentmindedly for a moment, wondering why Bean would have left the truck in the lot at CJ’s instead of bringing it back to the garage.

He dialed Bean’s cell phone, and listened to it ring until the voicemail picked up. He hung up, and repeated the procedure. Then he dialed Angie at home.

“He’s not here,” she told him. “What makes you think he would be?”

“He didn’t sleep here last night,” Danny explained, hoping she wouldn’t ask why not. “I thought maybe he shacked up with you.”

“You think we—“

“No,” Danny interrupted quickly, “it’s just that you’re the only other person Bean knows ‘round here. There aren’t exactly a lot of hotels.”

Angie pondered this. “Hmm…” she wondered aloud, “maybe he picked someone up?”

“Where?” Danny asked with a laugh. “Bingo night at the grange hall?”

They made plans to retrieve the truck, and hunt around a bit for Bean as soon as Angie could finagle a ride over to Danny’s.

Danny brought Jillian a cup of steaming black coffee and attempted to usher her out of the apartment, succeeding only after he promised to call after he tracked Bean down and schedule a repeat of the previous evening.

Jillian dropped Danny and Angie at CJ’s and wished them luck. Danny used a spare key to open the truck and check inside. It fired right up and nothing appeared to be out of place. Inside the restaurant, they learned that Bean had dined alone, and that no one had noticed how he’d managed to get sidetracked on his way to the truck.

They canvassed the local bars—all four of them—and then called the sheriff’s office to see if Bean had landed himself in some kind of trouble. Danny wasn’t surprised to learn that there hadn’t been any difficulties. Bean was careful not to attract attention from law enforcement, and, at any rate, he would have called Danny if he had needed to post bail.

Reluctantly, Danny called the 24-hour urgent care unit in Battle Ground, only to learn that no one fitting Bean’s description had come through the emergency room during the night.

Danny didn’t know what else to try. He realized with a start that he hadn’t eaten a thing all day, and Angie suggested they pop over to Jack’s Restaurant and Store in Ariel for a meal.

The sun had dropped behind evergreen hills by the time Angie parked Danny’s old truck in front of Jack’s and they got out.

During a dinner of fried cube steaks and scalloped potatoes, Danny used Angie’s cell to try Bean for the hundredth time, achieving nothing. He pushed his food around his plate disinterestedly, and Angie tried unsuccessfully to convince him that Bean was probably just off on a lark. Or that he was just out of cell range and couldn’t get reception.

Danny let Angie take the truck home for the evening, and she promised to stay near her phone in the unlikely event that Bean turned up.

An hour later at the garage, Jillian poured a bracer of cognac for herself and a large slosh of Talisker for Danny, who stirred the logs in the woodstove pensively and said, “I just don’t figure it. Bean’s a punk kid and all, but he’s damned good about staying in touch. It’s what I pay him for, as a matter of fact.”

Jillian handed him the scotch, and pressed him for information.

”We know he had lunch at CJ’s alone,” Danny said, taking a seat beside her, “and that he left around 1pm…”

Danny caught her up to date on the scant details that he and Angie had been able to unearth during the day.

Around 10pm the phone rang. Danny answered it expectantly, hoping it was Bean.

“Is that you, Stark?” a woman inquired in a hushed whisper.

Danny thought he recognized the voice. “It is,” he said. “Who’s calling?”

“Your friend… the kid… he—he’s…” her voice broke off and she seemed to be listening intently for something or someone.

“What about him?” Danny asked urgently. “Where is—“

“Wait,” she pleaded. “If he catches me on the phone, he’ll…” and again she left the sentence incomplete.

“Who?” Danny begged. “If who catches you? Where’s Bean?”

“Oh, God,” she whispered fearfully, “he’s coming.” And the line went dead.

[Editor’s Note: Tune in next Sunday for Chapter 11!]