Free No Show by Simon Wood Page A

there before you do someone some damage?”
    Terry hopped down from the Dumpster and helped Oscar pick up the spilled trash. Oscar held open a new trash bag he had tucked into a back pocket and Terry filled it. Oscar tied off the bag and tossed it against the side of the overstuffed Dumpster.
    “Okay, let’s get you inside and cool off.”
    Oscar walked Terry inside the Gold Rush and filled two cups from the soda fountain.
    “Air hockey?” Oscar asked.
    “Okay,” Terry said.
    Terry took the drinks over to the nearest air-hockey table and placed them on the edge while Oscar pumped a handful of quarters into the machine. With all the other arcade machines switched off, the hum of the air hissing through the holes in the metal plate was surprisingly loud. The puck popped out and Oscar guided it back toward him.
    “Interesting mood swing you were having out there,” Oscar said and faced off. “Wanna tell me about it?”
    Terry blocked Oscar’s shot. “It was nothing. Just relieving a little of the daily stress.”
    Oscar stopped the puck dead with his hand. “Terry, I know we haven’t known each other long, but I know you weren’t just venting. You were pissed off, and I think I know at whom.”
    “Can’t we just play?”
    “You saw Holman today, didn’t you?”
    Oscar fired the puck across the table. Terry didn’t react fast enough to prevent it from disappearing into the mail slot of a goal in front of him. A new puck dropped onto the table. Neither of them made a grab for the plastic disc.
    “Yeah. I wanted to see how he was getting on. I haven’t heard anything from him.”
    Oscar tapped the puck over to Terry. “What did he say?”
    “Not a lot. He doesn’t seem to be any further forward than he was when I filed the report.”
    Terry hated badgering Holman like some lovesick teenager chasing after a girl. He knew how pathetic it looked. Holman’s progress amounted to a “We’re doing our best” and a pat on the head. Terry had stormed out before he lost his temper.
    Terry was equally frustrated by how little else he’d learned about Sarah’s encounter with Pamela. He’d become persona non grata at work, at least when it came to Kyle. He’d tried talking to him several times since their lunch meeting, and Kyle had practically run in the other direction.
    If Terry were honest, he wasn’t just angry with Holman or Kyle, but with himself. Cracks were appearing in his faith. Maybe Sarah hadn’t been abducted. She’d left the house under her own accord, albeit in a hurry. A belief was forming and even though it didn’t make sense, the belief grew—she’d run out on him. Suddenly, Holman’s words trampled through his mind. “You don’t seem to know squat about your wife.” Terry was starting to think he was right. All he wanted was to be wrong.
    “You know, he could be keeping things from you to protect you,” Oscar suggested.
    “I know, but I wish he wouldn’t.”
    Oscar nodded.
    “And in all honesty, I don’t think he knows where she is,” Terry said.
    “Okay, Holman’s getting nowhere while Sarah is slipping farther and farther into the shadows. So what are you going to do about it?”
    Terry went to answer, but held himself in check. He noticed the effect Oscar was having on him. The frustration he’d taken out on the trash was gone. Oscar had reasoned it out of him. Terry’s focus was on the constructive, not the destructive. He smiled and crouched over his goal with his hockey paddle ready to deflect any oncoming shots.
    “I’ll tell you what we’re going to do,” Terry said, “We’re going to find her.”
    “Are we, now?” Oscar fired the puck across the table. “And how, exactly, are we going to achieve that?”
    They spent the next half an hour knocking the puck back and forth, along with ideas for finding Sarah. They formulated a plan, deciding to pursue certain ideas and ditching others. The element Terry felt was most absent from Holman’s investigation was