fishermen had already come in with their day’s catches and dispersed. Dawn didn’t find Randy among the few people still lingering in the two areas.
Old Town proved to be too congested with foot and wheel traffic. The sidewalk restaurants were crowded with customers combining the outdoor dining experience with people-watching. There were too many directions to look at the same time and still keep her attention on the road.
Giving up, Dawn parked the car and continued her search on foot. The more she looked, the more irritated she became. Always the thought was at the back of her mind that Randy might already be home while she was out here walking the streets looking for him. It didn’t improve her temper.
Intent on some boys Randy’s age engaged in horseplay across the street, Dawn didn’t see the tropically dressed pair of tourists until she hadbumped into the man. At the last second, she tried to avoid the collision by stepping sideways, but she careened off the bikestand right into the man.
The impact staggered her. She stepped all over the man’s toes as she attempted to regain her balance. Finally his steadying hands managed to right her and get her sandaled feet off his toes.
“I’m sorry,” Dawn apologized profusely to the middle-aged man. “I’m afraid I wasn’t watching where I was going.”
“No harm done,” he insisted with only a trace of a wince from the injury to his exposed toes in the leather beach thongs. The lovely sight before him seemed ample compensation for any harm she had done to him. His onlooking wife was forgotten as the male tourist got an eyeful of Dawn in her white shorts and clinging knit tanktop.
“Come on, Herb,” his wife snapped in irritation at the way he was ogling Dawn.
With a shrugging smile of regret, he stepped to the side to let Dawn pass by, stealing a glance at her rear view before his wife tugged him forward.
Her shin throbbed from its collision with the bikestand. Dawn paused to rub it and glance at the guilty object that had bruised it. Her gaze fastened on the old bike parked in the rack. It looked just like the one Randy had been using. Surely no two bikes would have matching dents and that funny rust pattern on the front fender. Acloser look at the lock securing it to the stand confirmed that it was Randy’s. Her father’s initials were engraved into the base.
She straightened, looking intently up and down the street. Randy was around here somewhere, and not on his way home. But where? She’d looked in nearly every shop and walked all the streets.
Dawn had barely asked herself the question when she came up with the answer. “Mallory Pier, of course,” she murmured.
It had become the evening gathering place and center of activity until the sun went down. She struck out for the pier, certain now that she would find Randy there.
When she reached it, the pier was already crowded with people. There was an almost festival atmosphere about the place. Everyone came to watch the sun make its daily spectacular descent into the Gulf of Mexico. It was an ideal setting with a backdrop of all water and sky.
The mood of the revelers didn’t touch Dawn, too intent on finding her errant son to care about the party atmosphere. All sorts of amateur entertainers were displaying their talents to the assembled crowd. Passing a juggler, Dawn continued looking into faces. There were so many young people around that their features seemed to blur together, making her wonder if she’d be able to recognize Randy in this sea of teenagers and pre-teens.
Her patience had nearly worn thin when she finally saw him. He was standing at the end of agroup, munching on a conch fritter and laughing at the antics of a mime. Randy said something to the man beside him, drawing the sparkling impatience of her gaze to him.
The anger drained from her with a rush as she recognized Slater. For an instant, he was all she could see. As if sensing he was being watched, his gaze suddenly
Old Town proved to be too congested with foot and wheel traffic. The sidewalk restaurants were crowded with customers combining the outdoor dining experience with people-watching. There were too many directions to look at the same time and still keep her attention on the road.
Giving up, Dawn parked the car and continued her search on foot. The more she looked, the more irritated she became. Always the thought was at the back of her mind that Randy might already be home while she was out here walking the streets looking for him. It didn’t improve her temper.
Intent on some boys Randy’s age engaged in horseplay across the street, Dawn didn’t see the tropically dressed pair of tourists until she hadbumped into the man. At the last second, she tried to avoid the collision by stepping sideways, but she careened off the bikestand right into the man.
The impact staggered her. She stepped all over the man’s toes as she attempted to regain her balance. Finally his steadying hands managed to right her and get her sandaled feet off his toes.
“I’m sorry,” Dawn apologized profusely to the middle-aged man. “I’m afraid I wasn’t watching where I was going.”
“No harm done,” he insisted with only a trace of a wince from the injury to his exposed toes in the leather beach thongs. The lovely sight before him seemed ample compensation for any harm she had done to him. His onlooking wife was forgotten as the male tourist got an eyeful of Dawn in her white shorts and clinging knit tanktop.
“Come on, Herb,” his wife snapped in irritation at the way he was ogling Dawn.
With a shrugging smile of regret, he stepped to the side to let Dawn pass by, stealing a glance at her rear view before his wife tugged him forward.
Her shin throbbed from its collision with the bikestand. Dawn paused to rub it and glance at the guilty object that had bruised it. Her gaze fastened on the old bike parked in the rack. It looked just like the one Randy had been using. Surely no two bikes would have matching dents and that funny rust pattern on the front fender. Acloser look at the lock securing it to the stand confirmed that it was Randy’s. Her father’s initials were engraved into the base.
She straightened, looking intently up and down the street. Randy was around here somewhere, and not on his way home. But where? She’d looked in nearly every shop and walked all the streets.
Dawn had barely asked herself the question when she came up with the answer. “Mallory Pier, of course,” she murmured.
It had become the evening gathering place and center of activity until the sun went down. She struck out for the pier, certain now that she would find Randy there.
When she reached it, the pier was already crowded with people. There was an almost festival atmosphere about the place. Everyone came to watch the sun make its daily spectacular descent into the Gulf of Mexico. It was an ideal setting with a backdrop of all water and sky.
The mood of the revelers didn’t touch Dawn, too intent on finding her errant son to care about the party atmosphere. All sorts of amateur entertainers were displaying their talents to the assembled crowd. Passing a juggler, Dawn continued looking into faces. There were so many young people around that their features seemed to blur together, making her wonder if she’d be able to recognize Randy in this sea of teenagers and pre-teens.
Her patience had nearly worn thin when she finally saw him. He was standing at the end of agroup, munching on a conch fritter and laughing at the antics of a mime. Randy said something to the man beside him, drawing the sparkling impatience of her gaze to him.
The anger drained from her with a rush as she recognized Slater. For an instant, he was all she could see. As if sensing he was being watched, his gaze suddenly
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