The next evening Dally, dressed up in a black tux was driving to his boss' address. The air was sticky and humid, and Dally was sweating, whether it was from the air or his nerves he wasn't sure.
He parked and got out of the car. A guy wearing a pants and jacket of funny brown color approached Dally – "may I have the car keys?" What a fuck Dally thought, was he being mugged on one of the richest streets in the country. Dally turned away ignoring the man, hoping he would just go away, but when Dally looked the man was still there – a polite smile on his face. "Your car keys, sir" Then it dawned on Dally – this was a parking valet. Dally frowned and gave man the keys reluctantly.
Bev met him by the door. She was wearing a black sequent dress. As she was grabbing Dally's hand, he noticed a diamond bracelet on her wrist. It was beautiful - it was shining and sparkling in the light. Dally bit his lower lip - fucking socks, he thought. They proceeded inside. Dally squinted from the bright light of the chandeliers hanging of the ceiling.
The boss greeted everyone in the huge room, with long leather couches along each of the walls, a buffet with all kinds of food, leather armchairs in one corner of the room, and the dance floor. He even had live band playing music. The boss – Mr. Brown gave a speech about how he appreciated those who work for him, and to enjoy themselves on this evening.
But Dally was not enjoying himself, all he was thinking was how he could snoop around, maybe get into the owner's study room, see if he can find anything there. He could easily slip away, while everyone was talking, drinking and enjoying themselves. But it wasn't so easy, because he was with Bev. He had to think of an excuse to leave her. He noticed that she was drinking a lot. That gave him an idea to get her drunk and leave her alone. That was not too difficult - she kept drinking. Dally had a few drinks as well, but he could hold his liquor really well. In about an hour and a half Bev was really tipsy. "Why don't you sit down?" Dally led her to the couch. She nearly dropped into the couch. Then Dally said, "Why don't you rest for a little while, I'll be right back." with that he left.
Dally moved quietly and gracefully like a cat or a cheetah. He went down the poorly lit, almost dark hallway, where there were several white doors. He didn't know which door he should start with. Dally was about to open one of the doors, when a woman wearing a white apron approached him. She must be one of the cooks, Dally realized. "Hi ma'am," he walked up to her, "I'm looking for a rest room." She pointed to where the rest room was.
"Thank you ma'am," Dally called after her, feeling the adrenaline surge through his body. As soon as she was gone Dally went back to open one of the doors.
He quickly got in, and realized it was a bedroom. There were a few pictures of the boss and his wife on the desk. But really nothing else to look at. Dally got out, and opened the next door. He was in luck - it was the study. There was a big wooden desk with chairs and there were shelves of books. He took one of the books, and something fell off the shelf. Dally picked it up, realizing it's a photo album. He opened it and frowned - on each page there was a photo of a child taken against the fence. Dally held his breath. He kept flipping the pages to see if Johnny would be on one of the pictures, but he was not.
Shit, Dally felt blood rush to his temples, this mist be the guy. The photo album was hidden behind the books, this is the bastard. At this moment Dallas heard the steps approaching the room. He quickly threw the photo album back on the shelf and ran into a closet. He heard the door open and some people walk in. In a rush Dally didn't get a chance to put the book back on the shelf. He heard heels clicking and he poked through the crack in the closet door, and saw that it was the boss and his wife. Mr. Brown gave her a kiss. Dally frowned, hoping they weren't going to make love or anything. Then he saw the boss look at the book Dally left on the desk. He looked confused. He took the book and put it back on the shelf. Then the two of them left the room.
Dally exhaled in relief, carefully he got out of the room, making sure that the hallway was empty. He now had a very good reason to believe that the jewelry store owner – Mr. Brown was the one who took Johnny. He went back into the main room to see Bev flirting with some guy. She seemed even drunker and was holding another drink in her hand. Now Dally didn't feel so bad that he was kind of using her, she clearly didn't like him that much if she was flirting with another guy even if it was because she was drunk.
For the rest of the evening Dally was antsy, he couldn't wait to go home and tell the guys what he found out. He couldn't dance with Bev, because she had difficulty standing straight, that's how drunk she was. So Dally ended up just sitting on the couch with her.
Finally people started leaving, and Dallas was relieved that he could leave. He took the trouble of driving Bev home, because she wasn't in any condition to drive, and he felt kind of bad for her. When they got there he regretted that, because she started inviting him inside. Now, Dallas was no innocent, but even he thought it would be wrong to just take advantage of her drunken state. So he had to make up some excuse and say that he had to go.
When Dally got home it was about midnight, but once again nobody was sleeping "So?" Soda asked. Dally told them about the photo album with kids photos, and how it was hidden behind the books. "We otta see things," two-bit spoke up, "Maybe watch him for a day see what he does."
"Yeah, that's what I was thinking," Dally replied taking a seat on the bed and lighting up a cigarette, "My shift at the store doesn't start until three so I can go watch him in the morning."
"I'll go with you," two-bit said hesitantly, his voice shaking a little as he spoke, "I hate to just sit here all alone while you guys are away. I feel so useless." Dally was hesitant a moment, "alright," he said reluctantly, exhaling the smoke.
The following morning at 8:30 a.m. Dallas and two-bit were driving up to Mr. Brown's house. Dally was chain smoking and two-bit sipping beer from the can. The radio was off. Neither of them spoke, and the air between them was gloomy. At around 9:30 Mr. Brown walked out of the house. He got into his white Mercedes Benz with tinted windows and started driving. As soon as he passed them, Dallas pressed on gas. They drove along 7th Avenue, and Dallas thought in disappointment that he as was just driving to his jewelry store. However, he passed it, and turned into 5th Ave. Soon they were by the Metropolitan Museum of Art.
"Hey man, that's the place," two-bit raised his voice, his eyes wide, "this is the museum Pony and Johnny and I went to." Dallas looked over at him, but kept driving. Soon enough they were in Central Park. "Man, that's the place," two-bit blurted out, "that's the exact place where we were sitting." In the meantime Mr. Brown stopped the car and got out. He was met by a middle aged man with balding head, and they were talking about something. Dallas and two-bit couldn't hear what was said. Then Mr. Brown got back in his car and drove to the store. It was around 2:30 p.m. by then so Dallas got out and went into the store as his shift was about to start, and two-bit went back to the hotel. He hated being alone and useless. Pony was at his new school, and Soda and Steve were out cooking for Evan. Only two-bit had nothing to do.
Pony got home around 4 p.m., and two-bit told him what happened. Pony was quite shocked, but he was glad that they are finding at least some clues of what happened to Johnny, and hoped that they can find him soon.
Soda and Steve got home around 6 p.m., and Dallas around 7 p.m. The plan was to keep watching Dally's boss, hoping it would lead them to Johnny.
The next day, when Dallas was working at the store, a moving truck parked by the entrance, then two men proceeded to carry out, what Dallas realized was a painting; they proceeded into the store, and asked for the boss. He walked out to meet them, and showed where he wanted to hang the painting. They said no problem and got right to work. Another guy got out of the truck, and Dallas recognized the man him and two-bit had seen the day before in Central Park. So that's what that was about, Dallas realized. So the meeting was about buying the painting, not kidnapping, so maybe he was innocent after all. But what about the photo album and kids working in his yard? All this left Dallas puzzled, and disappointed. He had hoped they found their guy when they had seen he was at the very same spot in Central Park, but now Dallas was no longer sure.
Soda and Steve suspected their guy too, while Pony was saying his guy was a great guy and was most certainly innocent.
After work Dally took Bev out for dinner. He decided to find out if she knew anything about kids working in the boss' yard. He had to play the part of being rich so he took her to one of the diners near their store on 7th Ave. They settled down in a booth with red leather seats and marble table. She ordered filet mignon and a bottle of red wine, assuming, of course, that Dally will pay. Dally mentally cringed, but he had no choice but go along with it.
"So," Dally asked casually, "does the boss have any kids?"
"No he doesn't," she shook her head, taking a bite of her filet mignon. "That's why he is so involved with kids." Dallas perked up, "what do you mean?" he put down his fork and knife aside.
"He participates in this program, where kids can work on his yard for their community service requirement at school. He lets them work on his yard for credit and he throws a party for them around Fourth of July." Dally processed what she just said, not sure if he believed it.
"Is there a problem?" She looked up at him from her food.
"No, why? No problem." Dallas hurried to say.
They talked a little more. Bev did most of the talking, while Dallas was lost in his thoughts. He couldn't wait for the evening to be over. Finally it was time to go. He dropped Bev off, and rushed back to the hotel.
Steve and Soda were sitting in the kitchen at Evan's place. The rays of sun made their way through the window, making the kitchen bright. It was a beautiful day outside, but Soda and Steve were not in a good mood. Evan left, said will be back in about two hours. In the meantime they had to prep food for one of his jams again. This was their chance to snoop around to see if they find any clue about Johnny. But they also had to cook a meal in this time, and they knew that the expectations for the food were high.
"We'll cook shepherd's pie," Soda announced, running his fingers through his hair.
"Yeah, sounds good," Steve nodded, "not too time consuming. I'll start on the potatoes, you look around," Steve offered, taking out potatoes from the sac and placing them on the counter.
"Yeah ok, I don't even know where to start." Soda propped his head on his hand.
"His room of course," Steve said without missing a beat.
"Ok, ok," Soda gave a nervous giggle.
"Ok now, don't be nervous this is for Johnny." Steve turned around looking Soda right in the eyes.
"Yeah for Johnny," Soda repeated, getting up from his seat, and walking towards the stairs.
Soda opened the door to Evan's room. He made sure not to slam the door, and mentally scolded himself - Evan wasn't home so it didn't matter if he slammed the door or not. Inside there was leather couch, two leather armchairs, and endless shelves with records. There was also a multi color wig on one of the armchairs, some drawings on the walls. Three different guitars on the wall, microphones, music sheets, pictures of Evan's band.
By the window there was a desk with several drawers. There was a keyhole on each of the drawers. "Shit," Soda mumbled, he pulled the first drawer, and to his surprise it opened - it was not locked. Inside there were pictures, some wrapping papers, two address books and some stickers. There was also a round metal box with an image of New York City logo. Soda opened it - it seemed to be a personal memories type of thing, Soda realized. There were corks from wine bottles, matches from different places Evan visited. It was a tradition to take matches whenever you visit another town. There were also concert tickets. Soda closed the box, disappointed. He flipped through the address books, but didn't find anything suspicious that would tell him Evan was the kidnapper.
Soda pulled the second drawer out. There was a stack of papers. Soda picked up a few, and realized they were bills. They were really high. There was a bill for $1,500 from Four Seasons hotel in L.A. Finally, Soda opened the third drawer. There was a single manila folder in it. Soda opened it. There was a paper in it, that was some sort of bank statement. Soda looked closer. It said "trust fund $100,000" in Evan's name. Set up by someone with the same last name. Probably his dad, Soda thought. So that's where he gets the money from, Soda realized. He put the paper back, and closed the drawer. Then he went back to the kitchen, where Steve was sautéing the onions for the pie.
Steve didn't say anything as Soda entered, just raised his eyebrows, looking expectantly at him, and putting the spatula aside.
"He is legit," There was disappointment in Soda's voice. "I found a statement from the bank he's got a one hundred thousand trust fund in his name from his dad or something." Steve looked baffled – "One hundred grand, bastard. I'll die, and I'll never see that kinda money."
"Yeah," Soda sighed, "but I guess this means he isn't our guy."
"Well, we can't rule it out completely," Steve pointed out, "but at least the money part got explained."
On Wednesday after school everyone gathered at Mr. Wilson's apartment on 5th Ave. Pony had never seen a place like this before. Not even on TV. The ceilings were really high, there were expensive paintings on the walls, leather furniture, and shelves with glass doors, behind which there were some porcelain figurines. There was also a mini stage and chairs arranged in rows for them to sit.
Everyone was already familiar with the procedure, and Pony just followed along. He really enjoyed Mr. Wilson's class, and was curious to see how the poetry readings - these slams play out. There were some refreshments on the table, covered with table cloth, looking like it was at a restaurant. Pony took one - a cracker with cheese. It was delicious.
People started to walk upfront and recite their poetry. A guy had a very long poem about the ocean, and Pony thought it was nice except he never seen an ocean, and now being here, in New York, he had a chance to see it, but he couldn't now that Johnny was missing. Then a girl recited a poem about breaking up with her boyfriend. Pony didn't enjoy that one as much. Then two white guys went upfront and started rapping. The rap was about living on 5th Ave, and how everyone is jealous of them. Pony thought it was tasteless - they are so filthy rich, and all they wish is for everyone to envy them and be jealous.
Pony had a lot of Pepsi so he needed to use the rest room. He rushed, not wishing to miss much, but he was still lost in his thoughts. He washed his hands, and started walking back, still thinking about how filthy rich these people were. He kept walking, and opened the door, only to realize that in his haze he walked into a closet instead of the room. He mentally cursed himself for not using his head. He was about to close the closet door, when something fell out onto the floor. Pony picked it up and froze - it was a jean jacket. Not just any jean jacket. It was Johnny's jean jacket.