Chapter 8
The Haight-Ashbury section of San Francisco looked like a battle-torn fortress to Eddie, and most of the hippies wandering through it looked like ghosts from an extinct flower paradise. Eddie had gotten a roll of quarters from a bank before they started, and in the course of the day handed out ten dollars' worth to panhandlers. It wasn't generosity that prompted him: every panhandler that stopped him was shown Jenny's picture and asked if he'd seen her. The quarters brought them momentarily out of their apathy.
The first thing Eddie had done was to check with the San Francisco cops, just in case Jenny had been busted for hitchhiking or vagrancy. Then he began the strenuous rounds of the Haight-Ashbury, showing her picture to various locals.
By four o'clock Sheila was frantic with worry.
"She might not have come to the Haight-Ashbury," she told Eddie. "Maybe she went to another part of the city."
"It's possible," Eddie agreed. "But it's a big city, easy to get lost in."
He didn't point out that if Jenny went to the other likely sections, the North Beach area, she could already be roped into prostitution or drugs. It was the nightclub section, featuring nude dancers and garish sex acts, but it was also swarming with fast-talking pimps, dealers and hungry lesbians. If a tough, hot-mouthed dyke ever got a naive, luscious little piece like Jenny in bed the girl wouldn't know up from down an hour later-or a pussy from a prick.
But they'd covered Haight-Ashbury thoroughly by four, grocery stores, panhandlers, thrift stores, coffee houses, any place where she might be spotted.
"Okay," Eddie sighed, "we'll stop by the motel for a few minutes and then try North Beach tonight. But don't get your hopes up, baby."
As he drove back to the motel, Sheila was lost in worried silence.
"There's a chance Jenny never even got out of L.A.," Eddie told Sheila. "Maybe she met someone...."
Like a rapist or hippies on acid or a bizarre swinging couple who could twist her like a pretzel in a matter of hours, he added silently. Compared to the weirdos that stalked Los Angeles, San Francisco was practically a Girl-Scout camp.
"Try calling your apartment, just for the hell of it," Eddie told her as he swung the Ford into their motel. "Maybe she's back home by now. It's a scary world out there for a little kid."
Sheila nodded without enthusiasm. In the motel room, she dialed her number in L.A., aware as Eddie lit her cigarette for her that he had another hard-on. In spite of her intense worry over Jenny she felt a hot wet response in her pussy, wondering if Eddie was like this all the time, almost dizzy with excitement over the prospect.
On the fifth ring Jenny's tremulous voice answered and Sheila's heart leaped wildly.
"Jenny! Darling, where have you been?"
"I-I spent the night in a cabin. I'm okay now, Sheila, honest."
"But your voice is shaking! What happened, Jenny?"
"Nothing. I just-oh Sheila, I'm sorry, please forgive me!" Jenny's voice broke. "I didn't mean those awful things I said-where are you?"
"In San Francisco," Sheila said, wiping at the tears of relief in her eyes, smiling up at Eddie. "We thought you came up here so we've been searching for you all day. Damn you, Jenny, you almost drove me crazy with worry. When I get back I'm going to tan your little hide...."
"I won't mind," Jenny said softly, and the strange quality in her voice made Sheila frown. "Who's we?" Jenny asked.
"Oh, a-a friend, named Eddie." Eddie was motioning for the phone and Sheila handed it to him.
"Listen, kid," Eddie told her harshly, "you stay in that apartment until we get back there, understand? You plunk your cute little ass down there and if you move it out of there even for a candy bar or a bottle of soda pop, I'll personally kick it all over town-got it?"
Jenny laughed. "I got it. I won't move, honest, Eddie."
"We'll be there in six hours flat," Eddie said with a glance at his watch. Then his eyes strayed down to the cleavage of Sheila's creamy tits, and he said, "Six and a half hours, exactly. Stay there!"
"I will," Jenny said, and Eddie hung up the phone.
"Oh, Eddie, I'm so relieved," the brunette sighed, lying back on the bed. "You were right-she panicked and ran home again. But she sounded sort of funny on the phone, different somehow. Changed."
Eddie unbuckled his belt. "Still scared, that's all. She got a taste of the big bad world. She'll get over it. Strip, honey."
Sheila's eyes smoldered on his red pulsating prick.
"Make me," she said softly.
His hands were rough on her, and she felt a wild thrill as they ripped her panties off savagely, as his prick rammed with throbbing power into her hotly oozing cunt and she began to rock and moan with each driving thrust.
But even in her panting joy Sheila couldn't get rid of a deep nagging uneasiness about Jenny.
Something was drastically wrong with her little sister.