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oor and cracked mirrors on the walls so dusty that he could not see his face in them。 And Steve would never say what he had seen； except that it had legs like a bug。
They had all felt that the place was sucking at them； that they could get lost in here and never e back。 What Terry hadn't admitted to the others…but suspected they'd felt as well…was that for a moment the idea of getting lost had tempted him。 Here were sweet poisons and twisted dreams。 Here were things he could never touch with hands of mere flesh and bone 。。。
They had run out yelling； slapping high…fives but not fooling each other for a second。 They had tumbled off the porch and across the weed…choked yard； toward the small stubborn figure of Ghost far away on the other side of the road。 None of them had ever gone back。 But Terry had dreamed of it； that strange seductive slum。 And he would be willing to bet Steve and R。J。 had had dreams of their own。
Terry realized he had been woolgathering。 Two kids were standing by the imports section eyeing him speculatively。 One was a lean black guy wearing a Yellowman shirt and voluminous multipocketed fatigue pants； long color…threaded dreadlocks pulled back in a thick ponytail from his amiable； slightly horsey face。 The other was an absolute knockout； a stunning Asian girl with short hair that accented her large tilted eyes and exquisite bones。 She wore a lot of earrings； but no makeup。 Terry hadn't seen either of them around town before。
〃Help you with something？〃 he inquired。 Probably they were looking for Steve and Ghost。 Kids from the fringe had started drifting into town over the past year； since Lost Souls？ had managed to get their tape distributed to record stores up and down the East Coast。 Most just wanted to see a show； a few wanted to camp out in the band's yard； or thought Ghost was their true soulmate due to secret personal messages they heard in his lyrics。 It was a little unnerving； but it had brought in tons of business when Steve worked at the store。 Even now that Lost Souls？ was touring； when Terry pointed out that he had played drums on their tape； these kids would always buy a Whirling Disc T…shirt。
The girl stepped forward and； to Terry's surprise； pushed a photograph of Zach across the counter。 The photo had been taken at night； and Terry recognized the locale as New Orleans； probably during Mardi Gras。 Zach was hanging on to a lamppost with one hand； clutching a Dixie beer with the other； wearing a purple jacket and a shirt made of black fishnet and a huge shit…eating grin； obviously drunk within an inch of his life。
〃We're looking for this boy；〃 she said。 〃His name is Zachary。 He's a good friend of ours； and he's in a lot of trouble。〃
〃He looks like he might be。〃 Terry picked up the photograph； pretended to consider it。 〃Nice young kid； though。 I'd hate to see the cops get hold of him。〃
〃We're not cops！ We're trying to warn him about…〃 The girl shut her mouth as if she thought she'd already said too much。 Her panion approached the counter。
〃We e in peace；〃 he said； holding out a large slender hand。 〃We are his brudda an' sista。 My name is Dougal。 The lady is Edwina。 Eddy。〃
Terry took the hand and shook it。 Dougal spoke with a thick Jamaican accent； and his eyes were sharp； kind； stoned。 The girl's burned like embers。 Terry believed they were Zach's friends； though probably not his actual brudda an' sista。 They smelled faintly sweaty； as if they had been driving all night。 And the photo was worn； rubbed around the edges。 Someone had spent a lot of time looking at it； and Terry was willing to bet that someone was Edwina。 Eddy。
Still； it was one thing to trust people based on a gut reaction； it was quite another when the feds might be involved。 He was glad they hadn't happened upon Kinsey first。 〃How e you to ask in here？〃
〃Because Zach's a freak；〃 Eddy said simply； 〃and freaks tend to frequent record stores。〃
Terry couldn't argue with that。 〃Well…look…you understand I want to be sure you're cool。 Give me something I can trust。〃
〃How 'bout we all relax a little firs'；〃 said Dougal； and pulled out a straw pouch and a package of rolling papers。 As soon as he opened the pouch； the sweet sticky reek of absolute primo weed filled the store。 Terry saw a double handful of tightly packed bright green bud bristling with tiny red hairs。 Dougal pinched off a generous amount and started rolling a huge spliff right there on the counter。
〃Okay！ Okay！〃 Terry jumped up。 〃Hang on！ Let's go in the back room and talk this over。〃 He locked the door； flipped the sign to the side that read BACK IN 5 。。。 OR 15 。。。 OR WHENEVER。
In the back room； among piles of records； tapes； and CDs； stray equipment stored here by various bands； and posters rolled into unwieldy； unstackable paper tubes； Dougal fired up the joint and Eddy gave Terry a quick rundown of their situation。 She didn't offer many details； only that Zach had managed to get himself into an awful lot of trouble with his puter and they wanted to help him get out of the country。 Terry had read about puter hackers and been intrigued by them； but he didn't know they ever ripped shit off on the scale Eddy implied Zach had。
He hit the joint； which tasted even better than it smelled； and held the smoke in for a long time。 He didn't think so much of theft； but it was hard to feel sorry for vast bloated corporate entities like Citibank and Southern Bell。 They loved to talk about how the cost of such theft was passed on to the consumer； Terry reflected； but when was any cost of big business not passed on to the little guy at the bottom of the ladder？
Whatever Zach's morals （or lack thereof）； Terry genuinely liked him。 If there was even a slim chance that feds were heading for Missing Mile to nab him； Terry knew he had to help Zach get away。
〃Okay；〃 he said。 〃Truth。 Zach's in town。〃
Eddy's face lit up with a beautiful； delighted smile。 She was obviously crazy for Zach…along with half the world； it was beginning to seem。 Terry refused to be responsible for breaking the news of Trevor to her。 It wasn't his damn business anyway。 But he had a hunch that the plane out of the country was going to be carrying an extra passenger； and not the one Eddy probably hoped it would be； either。
〃He's staying with a friend；〃 Terry said。 〃In an abandoned； haunted house。 Now I'm not going out there； and I don't guess you better go by yourselves either。 But I'll take you over to my friend Kinsey's。 He doesn't mind ghosts。 He'll go tell Zach you're here。〃
Someone pounded on the front door。 All three heads jerked up； all three faces snapped toward the sound。
〃Wait here；〃 said Terry。 〃Don't e out unless I call you。 If you hear any other voices； go out the back door over there。〃 He picked up a can of Glade air freshener and tossed it to Eddy。 〃Here； spray some of this crap around。〃
Terry ducked under the curtain and went to the front of the store。 Two broad…shouldered guys in suits and mirrorshades were at the door； already pounding again。 〃Hold your fuckin' water；〃 Terry muttered。 He unlocked the door and opened it a crack。 〃C'n I help you？〃
〃Absalom Cover； U。S。 Secret Service。〃 The taller dude flashed a badge at Terry。 He was lean and hard…jawed； with dark hair slicked back from his narrow face。 Terry thought he could make out the bulge of a pistol beneath that well…cut jacket。 〃This is my partner； Stan Schulman。 May we step in and ask you a few questions？〃
〃Uh 。 。 。 actually； no。〃 Terry slipped out through the door； pushed it shut behind him。 The sidewalk was bright and dazzling； and he realized he was about as stoned as he could be。 But he knew his rights。 If they didn't have a warrant； he didn't have to let them in the store。
〃I'm doing inventory；〃 he explained； 〃and there's stuff piled up everywhere。 I can't have a bunch of people walking around knocking my stacks over。 You wanna ask me something out here？〃
〃Your name？〃
〃Terry Buckett。 I own this place。〃
The other agent； Schulman； reached into his jacket。 He looked dumpy and unkempt next to the sleek Cover。 Terry could see oily beads of sweat standing out on the man's scalp； clearly visible through the thinning hair。 There were even a few in his mustache。 Terry tried to imagine what it would be like to have a job that made you wear a jacket and tie in the heat of a Carolina summer。
Schulman pulled out a small photograph。 〃Have you ever seen this person before？〃
Terry studied the photo； managed not to laugh at Zach's fuck…you scowl。 〃No 。。。 I don't think so。〃
〃You must see a lot of kids in your line of work；〃 Schulman urged。 〃Try to be sure。 His name is Zachary Bosch。 He's nineteen years old。〃
〃And he's a dangerous criminal and a menace to society； right？ Nope； sorry； I haven't seen him。〃 Terry folded his arms across his chest and stared at the agents。 He saw himself reflected in their sunglasses； four little images of his ratty hair and faded blue bandanna cheering him on。 Bosch。 It figured。
〃We know he's in town；〃 said Schulman。 〃They gave us a positive ID up the street at the diner。 We've got this whole place blanketed。 If you know where he is and don't tell us； all sorts of bad things