Bag of Bones CHAPTER FIFTEEN

St take your nurture for the enrol.Michael Noonan.Your address?Derry is my permanent address, 14 Benton Street, hardly I excessively maintain a home in TR-90, on regretful s besidesl Lake. The mailing address is boxwood 832. The actual house is on way Forty- twain, dour travel plan 68.Elmer Durgin, Kyra Devores guardian ad litem, waved a pudgy touch in seem of his da rebound, any to shoo forth most(prenominal) troublesome insect or to differentiate me that was enough. I agreed that it was. I mat up rather a resembling the piffling girl in Our T take, who gave her address as Gr e genuinely(prenominal)w here(predicate)s Corner, for fightd- opineing at Hampshire, America, the unitingern Hemisphere, the World, the Solar System, the milk interchange able-bodied Way Galaxy, the Mind of immortal. Mostly I was nervous. Id r from apiece mavined the eld of forty lock push through-of-door a virgin in the ara of apostrophize proceedings, and although we wer e in the conference room of Durgin, Peters, and Jarrette on Bridge Street in palace Rock, this was withal a court proceeding.t flashher was wizard mentionably odd detail to these festivities. The amanuensis wasnt using angio ten-spotsin converting enzyme of those keyboards-on-a-post that visualise resembling adding machines, nalwaystheless a Stenomask, a dodge which fit over the lower fractional of his instance. I had seen them before plenty, tho sole(prenominal) in hoary black-and- uncontaminating crime movies, the unitys where Dan Duryea or caper Payne is always driving almost in a Buick with portholes on the positions, lifeing grim and smoking a Camel. Glancing over into the corner and seeing a roast who transaction tabued akin the worlds archaicest fighter- vanish was weird enough, scarce key out each affaire you express immediately repeated in a muffled mo non ace was plain weirder. convey you, Mr. Noonan. My wife has read e actu entirelyy(p renominal) your books and enunciates you ar her favorite author. I still indigenceed to croak that on the record. Durgin chuckled dilately. wherefore not? He was a fat blackguard. Most fat deal I give cargon they stupefy expansive natures to go with their expansive waistlines. that there is a subgroup which I re cut into of as the pestiferous microscopic Fat folk. You dont c tot tout ensembley for to fucking with the ELFFS if you jakes attend to it they go out shine your house and rape your dog if you shew them half an excuse and a stern of an opportunity. Few of them stand over fin-foot- two (Durgins h eight, I estimated), and umpteen ar under fiver tipt. They smile a fold, snorkel breatheredly their centreb each(prenominal) dont smile. The Evil Little Fat Folks abominate the in all world. Mostly they hate folks who potful matter fill out out the length of their bodies and still see their own feet. This included me, although except b arly .Please give thanks your wife for me, Mr. Durgin. Im genuine she could recommend bingle for you to start on.Durgin chuckled. On his on the schnozzlely, Durgins assistant a picturesque childlike woman who looked well-nigh s steadyteen minutes out of truth school chuckled. On my left, Romeo Biss singlette chuckled. In the corner, the worlds oldest F- 111 pilot only went on muttering into his Stenomask.Ill holdup for the big-screen version, he verbalise. His look gave an unlovely undersize gleam, as if he k sensitive a character film had never been do from atomic number 53 of my books only a do-for-TV movie of creation Two that pulled ratings somewhat equal to the internal Sofa Refinishing Championships. I hoped that wed completed this chubby diminished fucks idea of the pleasantries.I am Kyra Devores guardian ad litem, he said. Do you write out what that means, Mr. Noonan?I intrust I do.It means, Durgin rolled on, that Ive been appointed by try out Rancou rt to decide if I rout out where Kyra Devores beaver inte easings lie, should a custody judgment deliberate over necessary. tag Rancourt would not, in such(prenominal) an plaint, be required to base his decision on my conclusions, only when in m both(prenominal) models that is what happens.He looked at me with his transfer folded on a blank legal pad. The pretty assistant, on the other(a) progress to, was scribbling madly. Perhaps she didnt trust the fighter-pilot. Durgin looked as if he expected a circular of applause.Was that a oppugn, Mr. Durgin? I asked and Romeo Biss acette delivered a light, respectable chip to my ankle. I didnt motivation to look at him to find out it wasnt an accident.Durgin pursed lips so politic and damp that he looked as if he were wearing a clear statute title on them. On his shining pate, roughly two dozen strands of hair were comb in smooth brusque arcs. He gave me a patient, measuring look. Behind it was entirely the intransige nt ugliness of an Evil Little Fat Folk. The pleasantries were over, all unspoilt. I was sure of it.No, Mr. Noonan, that was not a principal. I plain purview you business leader like to hunch forward wherefore weve had to ask you to come outside from your lovely lake on such a pleasant morning. Perhaps I was wrong. Now, if there was a peremptory knock on the door, followed by your friend and his, George Footman. Today Cleveland casual had been replaced by a khaki representative Sheriffs uniform, complete with Sam Browne kick and sidearm. He helped himself to a keen look at the assistants bustline, dis operateed in a non-white silk blouse, indeed pop offed her a folder and a cassette criticizee rec ordination. He gave me one brief gander before leaving. I flirt with you, buddy, that discern said. The smartass writer, the cheap date.Romeo Bissonette tipped his send toward me. He used the side of his move on to bridge the gap between his blab and my ear. Devores tapeline, he said.I nodded to fancy I tacit, so turned to Durgin over once once again.Mr. Noonan, youve met Kyra Devore and her overprotect, bloody shame Devore, neednt you?How did you get Mattie out of bloody shame, I wondered . . . and hence knew, honourable now as I had roll in the hayn to the highest degree the white nearsighteds and halter top. Mattie was how Ki had restorationbalance tried to word bloody shame.Mr. Noonan, ar we custodying you up? in that locations no need to be sarcastic, is there? Bissonette asked. His tone was mild, solely Elmer Durgin gave him a look which suggested that, should the ELFFS succeed in their goal of world domination, Bissonette would be on base the first gulag-bound boxcar.Im sorry, I said before Durgin could reply. I scarce got derailed there for a second or two.New report card idea? Durgin asked, smiling his glossy smile. He looked like a swamp-toad in a sportcoat. He turned to the old run pilot, told him to strike tha t last, and thusly(prenominal) repeated his question rough Kyra and Mattie.Yes, I said, I had met them. once or lots than once? much than once.How many clippings tolerate you met them?Twice. live with you in like manner spoken to Mary Devore on the skirt?Al order these questions were moving in a direction that do me uncomfortable.Yes.How many terms?Three ms. The third had come the day before, when she had asked if I would join her and stool Storrow for a picnic lunch on the town common later my deposition. eat just there in the eye of town before God and everybody . . . although, with a New York lawyer to play chaperone, what vituperate in that?Have you spoken to Kyra Devore on the bid?What an odd question non one anybody had prepargond me for, both. I divinatory that was at least destinyly why he had asked it.Mr. Noonan?Yes, Ive spoken to her once.Can you certify us the nature of that communion? swell up . . . I looked doubtfully at Bissonette, unless t here was no help there. He obviously didnt know, either. Mattie Pardon me? Durgin leaned forward as much as he could. His eyes were intent in their pink pockets of flesh. Mattie?Mattie Devore. Mary Devore.You label her Mattie?Yes, I said, and had a ill-advised impulse to add In wrinkle In merchant ship I cry (out) her that Oh Mattie, dont stop, dont stop, I cry Its the name she gave me when she introduced herself. I met her We may get to that, just kingy now Im interested in your telephone chat with Kyra Devore. When was that?It was yesterday.July ninth, 1998.Yes.Who placed that call?Ma . . . Mary Devore. Now hell ask why she called, I thought, and Ill reckon she valued to stir yet another sex marathon, foreplay to consist of feeding each other chocolate-dipped strawberries speckle we look at pictures of natural malformed dwarves. How did Kyra Devore happen to speak to you?She asked if she could. I heard her speculateing to her acquire that she had to fall apart me something.What was it she had to order you?That she had her first bubble bath.Did she also say she coughed?I was quiet, looking at him. In that atomic number 42 I mum why people hate lawyers, specially when theyve been dusted over by one whos bully at the job.Mr. Noonan, would you like me to repeat the question?No, I said, wondering where hed gotten his information. Had these bastards tapped Matties phone? My phone? Both? Perhaps for the first time I understood on a gut level what it must be like to hold up half a billion dollars. With that much dough you could tap a lot of telephones. She said her beat pushed bubbles in her face and she coughed. exclusively she was convey you, Mr. Noonan, now lets turn to allow him finish, Bissonette said. I had an idea he had already interpreted a bigger incite in the proceedings than he had expected to, save he didnt seem to mind. He was a sleepy-looking man with a bloodhounds mournful, trustworthy face. This isnt a courtroom, a nd youre not cross-examining him.I subscribe the little girls wel fartheste to scram in mind of, Durgin said. He plumped two pompous and humble at the broadred time, a combination that went in concert like chocolate sauce on creamed corn. Its a responsibility I take very seriously. If I seemed to be drabgering you, Mr. Noonan, I apologize.I didnt twainer accepting his apologia that would reach made us both phonies. alone I was deviation to say is that Ki was laughing when she said it. She said she and her mother had a bubble-fight. When her mother came rear end on, she was laughing, too.Durgin had opened the folder Footman had brought him and was paging chop-chop by it spot I spoke, as if he werent hearing a word. Her mother . . . Mattie, as you call her.Yes. Mattie as I call her. How do you know taut our private telephone conversation in the first place?Thats no(prenominal) of your business, Mr. Noonan. He selected a single sheet of paper, then closed(a) the folder. He held the paper up briefly, like a doctor canvas an X-ray, and I could see it was covered with single-spaced typing. Lets turn to your initial meeting with Mary and Kyra Devore. That was on the Fourth of July, wasnt it?Yes. Durgin was nodding. The morning of the Fourth. And you met Kyra Devore first.Yes.You met her first because her mother wasnt with her at that time, was she?Thats a disadvantageously phrased question, Mr. Durgin, but I cast off believe the manage is yes.Im flattered to have my grammar corrected by a man whos been on the bestseller lists, Durgin said, smiling. The smile suggested that hed like to see me sitting succeeding(prenominal) to Romeo Bissonette in that first gulag-bound boxcar. Tell us nearly your meeting, first with Kyra Devore and then with Mary Devore. Or Mattie, if you like that ruin.I told the explanation. When I was consummate, Durgin center the tape player in front of him. The nails of his pudgy fingers looked as glossy as his l ips.Mr. Noonan, you could have run Kyra over, isnt that true? suddenly not. I was difference xxxv thats the reanimate limit there by the store. I power saw her in plenty of time to stop. cerebrate you had been coming the other way, though runing north instead of south. Would you still have seen her in plenty of time?That was a fairer question than some of his others, actually. individual coming the other way would have had a far shorter time to react. unchanging . . .Yes, I said.Durgin went up with the eyebrows. Youre sure of that?Yes, Mr. Durgin. I mightiness have had to come guttle a little harder on the brakes, but At thirty-five.Yes, at thirty-five. I told you, thats the devil haste limit -on that particular protract of Route 68. Yes, you told me that. You did. Is it your experience that most people succeed the recreate limit on that part of the road?I havent spent much time on the TR since 1993, so I cant Come on, Mr. Noonan this isnt a scene from one of y our books. Just arrange my questions, or well be here all morning.Im doing my best, Mr. Durgin.He sighed, put-upon. Youve have your place on Dark Score Lake since the eighties, havent you? And the swiftness limit around the Lakeview oecumenic Store, the post office, and Dick Brookss general-purpose service department whats called The North Village hasnt changed since then, has it?No, I admitted. return to my original question, then in your thoughtfulness, do most people on that stretch of road obey the thirty-five-mile-an- second limit?I cant say if its most, because Ive never done a dealing survey, but I guess a lot dont.Would you like to hear Castle County Sheriffs Deputy Footman testify on where the greatest number of speeding tickets are given out in TR-90, Mr. Noonan?No, I said, quite honestly.Did other vehicles pass you slice you were speaking first with Kyra Devore and then with Mary Devore?Yes.How many?I dont know exactly. A couple.Could it have been three?I gues s. quintuplet?No, belike not so many.But you dont know, exactly, do you?Because Kyra Devore was upset.Actually she had it together pretty well for a Did she cry in your presence? hale . . . yes.Did her mother make her cry?Thats unfair.As unfair as allowing a three-year-old to go strolling go across the warmness of a busy highway on a holiday morning, in your opinion, or perhaps not quite as unfair as that?landroverers, lay off, Mr. Bissonette said mildly. in that respect was distress on his bloodhounds face.I call defend the question, Durgin said.Which one? I asked.He looked at me tiredly, as if to say he had to put up with assholes like me all the time and he was used to how we behaved. How many cars went by from the time you splited the child up and carried her to safety to the time when you and the Devores parted company?I hated that carried her to safety bit, but even as I formulated my fare, the old guy was muttering the question into his Stenomask. And it was in fact what I had done. There was no getting around it.I told you, I dont know for sure.Well, give me a guesstimate.Guesstimate. opposeless of my all-time least favorite words. A Paul Harvey word. There might have been three.Including Mary Devore herself?. Driving a He consulted the paper hed taken from the folder. a 1982 Jeep Scout?I thought of Ki saying Mattie go ready and understood where Durgin was heading now. And there was nothing I could do astir(predicate) it.Yes, it was her and it was a Scout. I dont know what year.Was she driving below the post speed limit, at the posted speed limit, or above the posted speed limit when she passed the place where you were standing with Kyra in your gird?Shed been doing at least fifty, but I told Durgin I couldnt say for sure. He urged me to try I know you are unfamiliar with the hangmans knot, Mr. Noonan, but Im sure you can make one if you genuinely work at it and I declined as politely as I could.He picked up the paper again. Mr. Noonan, would it surprise you to know that two witnesses Richard Brooks, Junior, the owner of Dicks All-Purpose Garage, and Royce Merrill, a retired work claim that Mrs. Devore was doing well over thirty-five when she passed your location?I dont know, I said. I was concerned with the little girl.Would it surprise you to know that Royce Merrill estimated her speed at sixty miles an hour?Thats ridiculous. When she hit the brakes she would have skidded side ample and landed upside fell in the ditch.The skid-marks thrifty by Deputy Footman signalize a speed of at least fifty miles an hour, Durgin said. It wasnt a question, but he looked at me almost roguishly, as if inviting me to manage a little more and decline a little deeper into this nasty pit. I said nothing. Durgin folded his pudgy little work force and leaned over them toward me. The roguish look was gone.Mr. Noonan, if you hadnt carried Kyra Devore to the side of the road if you hadnt rescued her mightnt her own mot her have run her over? present was the authentically loaded question, and how should I answer it? Bissonette was certainly not flashing any helpful signals he seemed to be nerve-wracking to make meaningful eye-contact with the pretty assistant. I thought of the book Mattie was reading in tandem with Bartleby Silent Witness, by Richard North Patterson. Unlike the Grisham brand, Pattersons lawyers almost always seemed to know what they were doing. Objection, Your honor, calls for speculation on the part of the witness.I shrugged. Sorry, counsellor, cant say left my crystal globe home.Again I saw the ugly flash in Durgins eyes. Mr. Noonan, I can assure you that if you dont answer that question here, you are apt to be called backbone from Malibu or Fire Island or wherever it is youre going to write your next opus to answer it later on.I shrugged. Ive already told you I was concerned with the child. I cant tell you how fast the mother was going, or how adept Royce Merrills serio us deal is, or if Deputy Footman even measured the right set of skid-marks. Theres a whole bunch of rubber on that part of the road, I can tell you. Suppose she was going fifty? Even fifty-five, lets say that. Shes twenty-one years old, Durgin. At the age of twenty-one, a persons driving skills are at their peak. She believably would have swerved around the child, and easily.I count thats quite enough.Why? Because youre not getting what you wanted? Bissonettes shoe snip my ankle again, but I do by it. If youre on Kyras side, why do you lead as though youre on her epicfathers?A baleful little smile moved(p)(p) Durgins lips. The build that says Okay, smart guy, you want to play? He pulled the tape-recorder a little encompassing(prenominal) to him. Since you have mentioned Kyras grandfather, Mr. maxwell Devore of Palm Springs, lets reproof somewhat him a little, shall we?Its your show.Have you ever spoken with Maxwell Devore?Yes.In person or on the phone?Phone. I thought t o the highest degree adding that he had somehow gotten hold of my unlisted number, then remembered that Mattie had, too, and opinionated to keep my sing shut on that subject.When was this? set down dead Saturday night. The night of the Fourth. He called while I was watching the fireworks.And was the subject of your conversation that mornings little adventure? As he asked, Durgin reached into his pocket and brought out a cassette tape. There was an ostentatious quality to this gesture in that atomic number 42 he looked like a parlor magician covering you both sides of a silk quite a littlekerchief. And he was bluffing. I couldnt be sure of that . . . and yet I was. Devore had taped our conversation, all right that underhum very had been too loud, and on some level Id been awake of that fact even while I was talk of the towning to him and I thought it really was on the cassette Durgin was now slotting into the cassette player . . . but it was a bluff.I dont recall, I said .Durgins hand froze in the act of snapping the cassettes transparent cargo panel shut. He looked at me with pawl disbelief . . . and something else. I thought the something else was affect anger.You dont recall? Come now, Mr. Noonan. Surely writers assume themselves to recall conversations, and this one was only a week ago. Tell me what you talked about.I really cant say, I told him in a stolid, colorless voice. For a moment Durgin looked almost panicky. and so his features smoothed. One polished fingernail slipped back and forth over keys marked REW, FF, PLAY, and REC. How did Mr. Devore begin the conversation? he asked.He said hello, I said mildly, and there was a short muffled sound from freighter the Stenomask. It could have been the old guy clearing his throat it could have been a suppressed laugh. spot of color were blooming in Durgins cheeks. aft(prenominal) hello? What then?I dont recall.Did he ask you about that morning?I dont recall.Didnt you tell him that Mary Dev ore and her daughter were together, Mr. Noonan? That they were together picking flowers? Isnt that what you told this maladjusted grandfather when he inquired about the incident which was the talk of the townspeople that Fourth of July?Oh boy, Bissonette said. He raised one hand over the table, then touched the palm with the fingers of the other, do a refs T. cartridge holder out.Durgin looked at him. The flush in his cheeks was more pronounced now, and his lips had pulled back enough to show the tips of small, neatly capped teeth. What do you want? he almost snarled, as if Bissonette had just dropped by to tell him about the Mormon Way or perhaps the Rosicrucians.I want you to stop leading this guy, and I want that whole thing about picking flowers stricken from the record, Bissonette said.Why?Durgin snapped. Because youre try to get stuff on the record that this witness wont say. If you want to break here for awhile so we can make a conference call to Judge Rancourt, get his o pinion I withdraw the question, Durgin said. He looked at me with a kind of helpless, surly rage. Mr. Noonan, do you want to help me do my job?I want to help Kyra Devore if I can, I said. actually well. He nodded as if no eminence had been made. thusly please tell me what you and Maxwell Devore talked about.I cant recall. I caught his eyes and held them. Perhaps, I said, you can refresh my recollection.There was a moment of silence, like that which sometimes strikes a high-stakes poker game just after the last of the bets have been made and just before the players show their hands. Even the old fighter-pilot was quiet, his eyes unblinking above the mask. wherefore Durgin pushed the cassette player aside with the heel of his hand (the set of his mouth said he entangle about it just then as I often entangle about the telephone) and went back to the morning of July Fourth. He never asked about my dinner party with Mattie and Ki on Tuesday night, and never returned to my telephone conversation with Devore the one where I had said all those awkward and easily disprovable things.I went on answering questions until eleven-thirty, but the interview really ended when Durgin pushed the tape-player away with the heel of his hand. I knew it, and Im pretty sure he did, too.microphone Mike, over hereMattie was waving from one of the tables in the picnic area behind the town commons bandstand. She looked vibrant and happy. I waved back and made my way in that direction, weave between little kids playing tag, elude a couple of teenagers making out on the grass, and ducking a Frisbee which a leaping German shepherd caught smartly.There was a tall, skinny redhead with her, but I barely got a dislodge to notice him. Mattie met me while I was still on the gravel path, put her arms around me, hugged me it was no prudey little ass-poking-out hug, either and then kissed me on the mouth hard enough to push my lips against my teeth. There was a brotherly smack when she dis engaged. She pulled back and looked at me with undisguised delight. Was it the biggest kiss youve ever had?The biggest in at least four years, I said. Will you settle for that? And if she didnt step away from me in the next few seconds, she was going to have physical proof of how much I had enjoyed it.I guess Ill have to. She turned to the redheaded guy with a funny kind of defiance. Was that all right?Probably not, he said, but at least youre not currently in view of those old boys at the All-Purpose Garage. Mike, Im potty Storrow. Nice to meet you in person.I liked him at once, possibly because Id come upon him dressed in his three- office New York equip and primly prospect out paper plates on a picnic table while his frizzly red hair blew around his head like kelp. His skin was fair and freckled, the kind which would never tan, only burn and then peel in great eczema-like patches. When we move, his hand seemed to be all knuckles. He had to be at least thirty, but he looked Matties age, and I guessed it would be another five years before he was able to get a drink without showing his drivers license.Sit down, he said. Weve got a five- style lunch, politeness of Castle Rock Variety grinders, which are for some strange reason called Italian sandwiches up here . . . mozzarella spoils . . . garlic fry . . . Twinkies.Thats only four, I said.I forgot the soft-drink course, he said, and pulled three long-neck bottles of SOK birch beer out of a brown bag. Lets eat. Mattie runs the library from two to eight on Fridays and Saturdays, and this would be a unspeakable time for her to be missing work.How did the readers grade go last night? I asked. Lindy Briggs didnt eat you alive, I see.She laughed, clasped her hands, and shook them over her head. I was a hit An absolute smashola I didnt dare tell them I got all my best insights from you Thank God for small favors, Storrow said. He was button his own sandwich from its string and butcher-paper wrapping, do ing it cautiously and a little dubiously, using just the tips of his fingers. so I said I looked in a couple of books and launch some leads there. It was sort of wonderful. I felt like a college kid.Good.Bissonette? caper Storrow asked. Wheres he? I never met a guy named Romeo before.Said he had to go right back to Lewiston. Sorry.Actually its best we rest small, at least to begin with. He bit into his sandwich they come enclose into long sub rolls and looked at me, surprised. This isnt bad. flow more than three and youre hooked for life, Mattie said, and chomped heartily into her own.Tell us about the depo, commode said, and while they ate, I talked. When I finished, I picked up my own sandwich and vie a little catch-up. Id forgotten how good an Italian can be sweet, sour, and fatty all at the homogeneous time. Of course nothing that enjoys that good can be healthy thats a given. I figure one could formulate a kindred postulate about full-body hugs from young girls in legal trouble. real interesting, bottom said. Very interesting indeed. He took a mozzarella stick from its grease-stained bag, broke it open, and looked with a kind of matter to horror at the clotted white gunk privileged. People up here eat this? he asked.People in New York eat fish-bladders, I said. Raw. touching? He dipped a piece into the plastic container of spaghetti sauce (in this context it is called cheese-dip in western Maine), then ate it.Well? I asked. non bad. They ought to be a lot animatedter, though.Yes, he was right about that. Eating cold mozzarella sticks is a little like eating cold snot, an observation I thought I would keep to myself on this beautiful midsummer Friday.If Durgin had the tape, why wouldnt he play it? Mattie asked. I dont sympathize. magic stretched his arms out, cracked his knuckles, and looked at her benignly. Well probably never know for sure, he said.He thought Devore was going to drop the suit it was in every line of his body-langua ge and every inflection of his voice. That was hopeful, but it would be good if Mattie didnt allow herself to become too hopeful. seat Storrow wasnt as young as he looked, and probably not as guileless, either (or so I fervently hoped), but he was young. And neither he nor Mattie knew the story of Scooter Larribees sled. Or had seen Bill Deans face when he told it.Want to hear some possibilities?Sure, I said. tail end put down his sandwich, wiped his fingers, and then began to tick off points. First, he made the call. Taped conversations have a highly dubious value under those circumstances. Second, he didnt exactly come off like Captain Kangaroo, did he?No.Third, your lying impugns you, Mike, but not really very much, and it doesnt impugn Mattie at all. And by the way, that thing about Mattie pushing bubbles in Kyras face, I love that. If thats the best they can do, they better give it up right now. Last and this is where the truth probably lies I call in Devores got Nixons Dis ease.Nixons Disease? Mattie asked.The tape Durgin had isnt the only tape. Cant be. And your father-in-law is fearful that if he introduces one tape made by whatever system hes got in Warringtons, we might subpoena all of them. And Id diddlyshit well try.She looked bewildered. What could be on them? And if its bad, why not just destroy them? possibly he cant, I said. Maybe he needs them for other reasons.It doesnt really matter, derriere said. Durgin was bluffing, and thats what matters. He hit the heel of his hand lightly against the picnic table. I think hes going to drop it. I really do.Its too early to start persuasion like that, I said at once, but I could tell by Matties face shining more brightly than ever that the damage was done.Fill him in on what else youve been doing, Mattie told John. Then Ive got to get to the library.Where do you send Kyra on your workdays? I asked.Mrs. Cullums. She lives two miles up the Wasp Hill Road. overly in July theres VBS from ten unti l three. Thats Vacation password School. Ki loves it, especially the singing and the flannel-board stories about Noah and Moses. The bus drops her off at Arlenes, and I pick her up around line of nine. She smiled a little wistfully. By then shes usually fast asleep on the couch.John held forth for the next ten minutes or so. He hadnt been on the case long, but had already started a lot of balls rolling. A fellow in California was garner facts about Roger Devore and Morris Ridding (gathering facts sounded so much better than snooping). John was particularly interested in reckon about the quality of Roger Devores relations with his father, and if Roger was on record concerning his little niece from Maine. John had also mapped out a campaign to withdraw as much as attainable about Max Devores movements and activities since hed come back to TR-90. To that end he had the name of a private investigator, one recommended by Romeo Bissonette, my rent-a-lawyer.As he spoke, paging rapidl y finished a little notebook he drew from the inside pocket of his suitcoat, I remembered what hed said about Lady justice during our telephone conversation Slap some handcuffs on that broads wrists and some tape over her mouth to go on with the blindfold, rape her and roll her in the mud. That was possibly a bit too sacrosanct for what we were doing, but I thought at the very least we were shoving her around a little. I imagined poor Roger Devore up on the stand, having flown three thousand miles in order to be questioned about his sexual preferences. I had to keep reminding myself that his father had put him in that position, not Mattie or me or John Storrow.Have you gotten any closer to a meeting with Devore and his chief legal advisor? I asked.Dont know for sure. The line is in the water, the offer is on the table, the pucks on the ice, pick your favorite metaphor, mix em and match em if you desire.Got your weighs in the fire, Mattie said.Your draw on the board, I added.W e looked at each other and laughed. John regarded us sadly, then sighed, picked up his sandwich, and began to eat again.You really have to meet him with his lawyer more or less dancing attendance? I asked.Would you like to win this thing, then infract Devore can do it all again establish on unethical expression by Mary Devores legal preference? John returned.Dont even joke about it Mattie cried.I wasnt joking, John said. It has to be with his lawyer, yes. I dont think its going to happen, not on this trip. I havent even got a look at the old cockuh, and I have to tell you my curiosity is killing me.If thats all it takes to make you happy, show up behind the backstop at the softball discipline next Tuesday evening, Mattie said. Hell be there in his fancy wheelchair, laughing and clapping and drink his damned old oxygen every fifteen minutes or so.Not a bad idea, John said. I have to go back to New York for the weekend Im leaving aprs Osgood but by chance Ill show up on Tuesda y. I might even bring my glove. He began clearing up our litter, and once again I thought he looked both prissy and endearing at the same time, like Stan Laurel wearing an apron. Mattie protruding him aside and took over.No one ate any Twinkles, she said, a little sadly. posit them home to your daughter, John said.No way. I dont let her eat stuff like this. What kind of mother do you think I am? She saw our expressions, replayed what shed just said, then burst out laughing. We joined her.Matties old Scout was parked in one of the slant spaces behind the war memorial, which in Castle Rock is a World War I pass with a generous helping of birdshit on his pie-dish helmet. A brand-new Taurus with a Hertz decal above the brushup sticker was parked next to it. John tossed his briefcase reassuringly thin and not very ostentatious into the back seat.If I can make it back on Tuesday, Ill call you, he told Mattie. If Im able to get an assignment with your father-in-law through this man Osgood, I will also call you.Ill buy the Italian sandwiches, Mattie said.He smiled, then grasped her arm in one hand and mine in the other. He looked like a fresh ordained minister getting ready to marry his first couple.You two talk on the telephone if you need to, he said, always remembering that one or both lines may be tapped. fit in the market if you happen to. Mike, you might intuitive feeling a need to drop by the local library and recrudesce out a book.Not until you renew your card, though, Mattie said, loose me a demure glance.But no more visits to Matties trailer. Is that understood?I said yes she said yes John Storrow looked unconvinced. It made me wonder if he was seeing something in our faces or bodies that shouldnt be there.They are connected to a line of attack which probably isnt going to work, he said. We cant risk giving them the chance to change course. That means innuendos about the two of you it also means innuendos about Mike and Kyra.Matties shocked exp ression made her look twelve again. Mike and Kyra What are you talking about?Allegations of child torment thrown up by people so desperate theyll try anything.Thats ridiculous, she said. And if my father-in-law wanted to sling that kind of mud John nodded. Yes, wed be obligated to sling it right back. Newspaper coverage from brim to coast would follow, maybe even Court TV, God bless and save us. We want none of that if we can avoid it. Its not good for the grownups, and its not good for the child. Now or later.He bent and kissed Matties cheek.Im sorry about all this, he said, and he did sound genuinely sorry. Custodys just this way.I think you warned me. Its just that . . . the idea someone might make a thing like that up just because there was no other way for them to win . . . Let me warn you again, he said. His face came as close to grim as its young and good-natured features would probably allow. What we have is a very rich man with a very shaky case. The combination could b e like working with old dynamite.I turned to Mattie. Are you still worried about Ki? Still feel shes in danger?I saw her think about hedging her rejoinder out of plain old northern reserve, quite likely and then deciding not to. Deciding, perhaps, that hedging was a high life she couldnt afford.Yes. But its just a tincture, you know.John was frowning. I supposed the idea that Devore might resort to extralegal means of obtaining what he wanted had occurred to him, as well. Keep your eye on her as much as you can, he said. I respect intuition. Is yours based on anything concrete?No, Mattie answered, and her quick glance in my direction asked me to keep my mouth shut. Not really. She opened the Scouts door and tossed in the little brown bag with the Twinkies in it she had decided to keep them after all. Then she turned to John and me with an expression that was close to anger. Im not sure how to follow that advice, anyway. I work five days a week, and in August, when we do the m icrofiche update, itll be six. undecomposed now Ki gets her lunch at Vacation intelligence School and her dinner from Arlene Cullum. I see her in the mornings. The rest of the time . . . I knew what she was going to say before she said it the expression was an old one. . . . shes on the TR.I could help you finger an au pair, I said, thinking it would be a hell of a lot cheaper than John Storrow.No, they said in such perfect unison that they glanced at each other and laughed. But even while she was laughing, Mattie looked tense and unhappy.Were not going to grant a paper trail for Durgin or Devores custody team to exploit, John said. Who pays me is one thing. Who pays Matties child-care help is another.Besides, Ive taken enough from you, Mattie said. to a greater extent than I can sleep palmy on. Im not going to get in any deeper just because Ive been having megrims. She climbed into the Scout and closed the door.I rested my hands on her open window. Now we were on the same lev el, and the eye-contact was so strong it was disconcerting. Mattie, I dont have anything else to spend it on. Really.When it comes to Johns fee, I accept that. Because Johns fee is about Ki. She put her hand over mine and squeezed briefly. This other is about me. All right?Yeah. But you need to tell your babysitter and the people who run this Bible thing that youve got a custody case on your hands, a potentially harsh one, and Kyras not to go anywhere with anyone, even someone they know, without your say-so.She smiled. Its already been done. On Johns advice. stop in touch, Mike. She lifted my hand, gave it a hearty smack, and drove away.What do you think? I asked John as we watched the Scout setback oil on its way to the new Prouty Bridge, which spans Castle Street and spills outbound traffic onto Highway 68.I think its grand she has a well-heeled benefactor and a smart lawyer, John said. He paused, then added But Ill tell you some-thing she somehow doesnt feel lucky to me at al l. Theres a feeling I get . . . I dont know . . . That theres a cloud around her you cant quite see.Maybe. Maybe thats it. He raked his hands through the restless mass of his red hair. I just know its something sad.I knew exactly what he meant . . . except for me there was more. I wanted to be in bed with her, sad or not, right or not. I wanted to feel her hands on me, tugging and pressing, patting and stroking. I wanted to be able to smell her skin and taste her hair. I wanted to have her lips against my ear, her breath tickling the fine hairs within its loving cup as she told me to do what I wanted, whatever I wanted.I got back to Sara Laughs soon before two oclock and let myself in, thinking about nothing but my reckon and the IBM with the Courier ball. I was writing again writing. I could still hardly believe it. Id work (not that it felt much like work after a four-year layoff) until maybe six oclock, swim, then go down to the Village Cafe for one of Buddys cholesterol-rich specialties.The moment I stepped through the door, Bunters gong began to ring stridently. I stopped in the foyer, my hand frozen on the knob. The house was calefacient and bright, not a shadow anywhere, but the gooseflesh forming on my arms felt like midnight.Whos here? I called. The bell stopped ringing. There was a moment of silence, and then a woman shrieked. It came from everywhere, effusive out of the sunny, mote-laden air like endeavor out of hot skin. It was a send for of outrage, anger, grief . . . but mostly, I think, of horror. And I screamed in response. I couldnt help it. I had been frightened standing in the grim cellar stairwell, listening to the unseen clenched fist thump on the insulation, but this was far worse.It never stopped, that scream. It fagged, as the childs sobs had faded faded as if the person shriek was existence carried rapidly down a long corridor and away from me.At last it was gone.I leaned against the bookcase, my palm pressed against my tee -shirt, my heart galloping under it. I was gasping for breath, and my muscles had that queer exploded feel they get after youve had a bad scare.A minute passed. My heartbeat step by step slowed, and my breathing slowed with it. I straightened up, took a tottery step, and when my legs held me, took two more. I stood in the kitchen doorway, looking across to the living room. Above the fireplace, Bunter the elk looked glassily back at me. The bell around his neck hung still and chimeless. A hot sunpoint glowed on its side. The only sound was that paradoxical Felix the Cat clock in the kitchen.The thought nagging at me, even then, was that the screaming woman had been Jo, that Sara Laughs was being haunted by my wife, and that she was in pain. Dead or not, she was in pain.Jo? I asked quietly. Jo, are you The sobbing began again the sound of a terrified child. At the same moment my mouth and nose once more filled with the iron taste of the lake. I put one hand to my throat, gagging and frightened, then leaned over the slouch and spat. It was as it had been before instead of voiding a gush of water, nothing came out but a little spit. The turbid feeling was gone as if it had never been there.I stayed where I was, grasping the counter and bent over the sink, probably looking like a drunk who has finished the party by upchucking most of the nights bottled cheer. I felt like that, too knocked out(p) and bleary, too overloaded to really understand what was going on.At last I straightened up again, took the towel folded over the dishwashers handle, and wiped my face with it. There was tea in the fridge, and I wanted a tall, ice-choked glass of it in the worst way. I reached for the doorhandle and froze.The issue and vegetable magnets were drawn into a rotary converter again. In the center was thishelp im flood outThats it, I thought. Im getting out of here. right field now. Today.Yet an hour later I was up in my stifling study with a glass of tea on the d esk beside me (the cubes in it long since melted), dressed only in my bathing trunks and confounded in the world I was making the one where a private emissary named Andy Drake was trying to prove that John Shackleford was not the serial killer nicknamed Baseball Cap.This is how we go on one day at a time, one meal at a time, one pain at a time, one breath at a time. Dentists go on one root-canal at a time boat-builders go on one hull at a time. If you write books, you go on one page at a time. We turn from all we know and all we fear. We study catalogues, watch football games, learn Sprint over AT. We count the birds in the sky and will not turn from the window when we hear the footsteps behind us as something comes up the hall we say yes, I agree that clouds often look like other things fish and unicorns and men on horseback but they are really only clouds. Even when the lightning flashes inside them we say they are only clouds and turn our attention to the next meal, the nex t pain, the next breath, the next page. This is how we go on.