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Two
Underthatitsaid:
ANSWERSTOTHENAMEOFDOREEN.BITESANDKICKS.RUNAWAY.TELLUSIFYOUSAWHER.WANTHERBACK.REWARDPAYED.
Andbelowthat,atelephonenumber.Richardlookedbackatthephotograph.Itwasdefinitelythegirlinhisbathroom."No,"hesaid."Ihaven’tseenher,I’mafraid.I’msorry."
Mr.Vandemar,however,wasnotlistening.Hehadraisedhisheadandwassniffingtheair,likeamansmellingsomethingoddorunpleasant.Richardreachedouttogivehimbackhispieceofpaper,butthebigmansimplypushedpasthimandwalkedintotheapartment,awolfontheprowl.Richardranafterhim."Whatdoyouthinkyouaredoing?Willyoustopthat?Getout.Look,youcan’tgointhere—"Mr.Vandemarwasheadedstraightforthebathroom.Richardhopedthatthegirl—Doreen?—hadhadthepresenceofmindtolockthebathroomdoor.Butno;itswungopenatMr.Vandemar’spush.Hewalkedin,andRichard,feelinglikeasmallandineffectualdogyappingattheheelsofapostman,followedhimin.
Itwasnotalargebathroom.Itcontainedabathtub,atoilet,asink,severalbottlesofshampoo,abarofsoap,andatowel.WhenRichardhadleftit,acoupleofminutesbefore,ithadalsocontainedadirty,bloodygirl,averybloodysink,andanopenfirstaidkit.Now,itwasgleaminglyclean.
Therewasnowherethegirlcouldhavebeenhiding.Mr.VandemarsteppedoutofthebathroomandpushedopenRichard’sbedroomdoor,walkedin,lookedaround."Idon’tknowwhatyouthinkyou’redoing,"saidRichard."Butifyoutwodon’tgetoutofmyapartmentthisminute,I’mphoningthepolice."
