Finally, he found Mel and Carol seated together on a blanket at the very edge of the crowd with a handful of family and friends. Mel’s sister was among them, but not her son. Old Bob said hello to everyone, then drew Mel aside where they could talk privately.
“Did Deny come to the fireworks with you?” he asked quietly, trying to keep his voice calm, to keep his fear hidden.
“Sure, you just missed him,” his friend answered. “Been here with us all evening. Something wrong?”
“No, no, I just wanted to talk with him a moment. Where is he?”
“He took some drinks down to the guys shooting off the fireworks. Guess he knows one of them.” Mel glanced over his shoulder. “I told him I didn’t know if they’d let him go down there, but he seemed to think they would.”
Old Bob nodded patiently. “He took them some drinks?”
“Yeah, beer and pop, like that. He had this cooler he brought with him. Hey, what’s this about, Robert?”
Old Bob felt the calm drain away in a sudden rush, and the fears that had been teasing and whispering at him from the shadows suddenly emerged like predators. “Nothing,” he said. He looked toward the river and the movement of flashlights. “He’s still down there?”
“Yeah, he just left.” Mel cocked his head and his eyes blinked rapidly. “What’s the matter?”
Old Bob shook his head and began to move away. “I’ll tell you when I get back.”
He moved more quickly now, following the line that cordoned off the staging area as it looped down toward the river’s edge. He passed several of the Jaycees responsible for patrolling it, younger men he did not know well or at all, and he asked each of them in turn if he had seen Deny Howe. The third man he passed told him Deny had just gone inside the line, that he had been permitted inside only after identifying a member of the staging crew who he claimed was a friend. Old Bob nodded, told him that this was a violation of the agreement the Jaycees had signed with the park district in order to be allowed to sponsor this event, but that he would forget about reporting it if he could go down there right now and bring Deny back before anything happened. He gave the impression without saying so that he was with the park service, and the younger man was intimidated sufficiently by his words and the look on his face to stand aside and let him pass.
Seconds later, Old Bob was inside the line and working his way down the slope toward the moving flashlights of the men preparing to set off the fireworks. He had to hurry now. The fireworks were scheduled to begin at ten o’clock sharp, and it was almost nine-fifty. He turned off his own flashlight, letting his eyes adjust to the darkness. As he neared, he could make out the figures of the staging crew moving through the firing platforms to make their last-minute preparations.
He saw Deny Howe then, his tall, lank figure unmistakable, even in the darkness, standing with one of the crew, talking. As Old Bob swerved toward them, the crewman started to move away. Old Bob waited a few heartbeats, then flicked on the flashlight.
“Deny!” he called out boldly. Deny Howe turned into the light, squinting. Old Bob slowed. “Been looking all over for you.”
Derry’s eyes flicked right and left. He was holding a small cooler in his left hand. His grin was weak and forced. “What are you doing down here, Robert? You’re not supposed to be here.”
“Neither are you.” Old Bob gave him an indulgent smile. He was less than fifteen feet away now and closing. “You done here? Give everyone a drink yet? Got one left for me?”
Deny held up his hand quickly. “Stop right there. Right there, Bob Freemark.”
Old Bob stopped, and gave him a calm, steady look. “What’s in the cooler, Deny?”
Deny Howe’s face flushed and tightened with sudden anger. “Get out of here!” he spat angrily. “Get away from me!”
Old Bob shook his head. “I can’t do that. Not unless you come with me.”