Then, he looked across the street.
Abruptly, he dropped back into the car. Slumping low in the seat, he reached for the door and started to wrench it shut, then caught himself and closed it softly to avoid attracting attention.
Peering over the wheel and the dash, Dave was transfixed by the scene across the street. He'd been waiting for Billy Bristol to come out of the youth center; instead, Larry Smith had appeared, accompanied by an unfamiliar kid.
From the lot, Dave couldn't make out the details of the kid's face, but he was skinny and gangly and looked as if he were in his early teens. He had short brown hair and wore a white T-shirt and red sweatpants; he carried a basketball in the crook of his arm. Talking and laughing, he walked easily beside Larry, seemed quite relaxed and
