"Where's he got to now," she panted before again calling out, "Harry!"
"What about over there?"
"The clown-face thing. What is that, a casino? I mean, look at it, maybe he thought it was an arcade or—"
"What are you talking about, John?"
"Right there, are you blind? The big clown face with the lights. If I was six, I'd totally see that and want to go in."
She glared at him like he was out of his mind. "There's no clown face, John, no lights. It's a warehouse. It's boarded up. I can't believe you're making jokes right now." She hurried off, looking around as she went. "Harry!"
He closed his eyes, opened them. The face remained an enticing beacon in the hazy boardwalk night. "He's in there. I'll bet anything he's in there. I'd bet anything." He checked for his wallet before walking towards the open mouth.