The peeker didn’t answer and the curtains didn’t move.
An air conditioner jutting from the bungalow’s side thumped as the compressor kicked off. Maybe the AC had drowned my voice, and the peeker hadn’t heard me. I knocked harder and spoke louder.
“We haven’t been able to reach him, and we’re concerned. Have you seen him recently?”
Something creaked on the far side of the door.
I said, “It’s important.”
Silence.
I stepped back and glimpsed the curtains ripple.
People.
I stepped into a bed of ivy and followed the ivy around the side of the bungalow past the air conditioner and gas meter to the electric meter and the breaker panel. The breaker box was old, corroded, and cocooned with cobwebs. I opened the panel and cut the power. The air conditioner stopped with a heavy thump.
I hurried back to the door, and stood to the side. Forty seconds later the door cracked open and a thin man in his sixties shouted from the crack.
“I know you’re hiding, you prick! The cops are coming. I called’m!”
I stepped out fast and wedged my toe into the crack before he could close the door.
“Thanks for your help, sir. This won’t take long.”
He put his shoulder into the door and made unh-unh-unh sounds as he pushed.
“You prick! I’m warning ya! I got a gun!”
Unh-unh-unh.
I said, “Josh Schumacher, the guy who lives in the yellow house? Have you seen him recently?”
“This is breaking and entering. This is assault.”
Unh.
I said, “Josh disappeared. His mother believes he was kidnapped.”
The man stopped pushing and peered through the crack.
“You’re lying. Kidnapped?”
“Tall guy, redhead, heavy—”
“I know who you mean. The lardass. You police?”
“Private.”
I slipped a card into the crack. He squinted at the card, then peered at me.
“No shit. A private eye?”
“Awesome, isn’t it?”
He read the card again.
“Elvis. People give you grief?”
“Not more than once.”
He stared for a moment, then burst out laughing.
“Good one.”
Good one.
I said, “Getting back to Josh, have you seen him?”
Leon Karsey stepped out and introduced himself. His hair was long, slicked back, and mostly gray. A stained white T-shirt hung from his shriveled shoulders, and legs as skinny as chopsticks stuck out of plaid shorts. He was barefoot.
Karsey sneered, and waved toward Josh’s bungalow.
“How could I miss the bloated blimp? He lives right in front of me. I can hock a loogie on his doorknob from here.”
He hocked a loogie, let fly at Josh’s bungalow, and admired his work.
“The thicker they are, the farther they go. It’s a gift.”
You met amazing people in my line of work.
I said, “Did Josh say where he was going?”
“Didn’t say we’d spoken. We haven’t traded six words since blubberboy moved in.”
Amazing and sensitive.
Mr. Charm waved at the surrounding bungalows.
“I keep an eye on these people, but I don’t socialize. You socialize, they end up taking advantage.”
Karsey hocked another loogie, looked for a target, and let fly at the hummingbirds. Missed.
I said, “Socializing aside, have you seen him in the past week or so?”
He thought about it.
“Nope. The other kid’s been around, his friend, but not the hog.”
“Ryan.”
“Whatever. I knew something was up. The cops been here a lot.”
He probably meant Wendy and Kurt.
“A big woman with a short ponytail and a bigger man? Nice suits.”
He nodded before I finished.
“Yeah, yeah, the cow and her cuck. Them, and the other two.”
I said, “The other two?”
“A scarecrow and a meatball. Sniffing around fatso’s place.”
“A man and a woman?”
“Yeah, yeah. A skinny chick and a round guy, looked like a meatball with legs.”
“How were they sniffing around?”
Karsey seemed annoyed.
“You know, sniffing. Banging on his door. Peeking in his windows. Cramping my ass. Like you.”
The woman might be Largo, but a second possibility occurred.
I pulled out my phone, opened the In Your Face link, and showed him the picture of Josh and Skylar Lawless at her opening.
Karsey leaned close and grabbed his crotch.