Maybe I can help you with something?" I made the offerszepted help from kids. Many adults didn‘t notice kids at all. Wewere lost to the background of life, much like pets and old people.
santher once told me there was a sweet spot to life between thesie of fifteen and sixty-five when you were fully visible to thesurid--any older and you fade from sight, dimming to obscu-gradually took form, solidifying till those mid-teen years whenaty. And the young? Well, the young started out invisible andrapplese joined the rest of the world in the visible spectrum. Poof!
One day you were there and people held you accountable, peoplesaw you. I knew that day was coming for me, but it hadn‘t quitearrived yet.
heMr. Stranger was laughing. "You got Mr. Smith good! I toldhim he‘d never get in fast enough like that, but he didn‘t listen,
wanted to do things his way. Isn‘t that like the younger gen-eration? They don‘t heed their elders anymore, not like whenyou and I were young, right, hoss? They don‘t have the kind ofrespect we were taught, the kind instilled in us from the get-go.
the front door.
Your boy might-he seemed to mind his p‘s and q‘s. I bet heagrow up into a pillar of society, if given the chance. Of course,
whether or not that happens is really in your hands at thispoint."
"I‘m gonna kill that fucking bastard!" Mr. Smith shout
A woman lay on the floor beside the couch, bound andNash went straight for the walk-in closet on the far right,
to hide; the shower was encased in glass and clearly empty.
gagged like the housekeeper downstairs.
swatting clothes, making sure it was empty. Clair went on andturned the corner. She found herself standing in a large bathroom of white marble. The elaborate space offered no placeA linen closet stood on the left, lined with thick towels andenough bottles of shampoo, conditioner, and cleaning suppliesto stock a small hotel. Nobody hid in there.
She returned to the bedroom to find Nash checking beneath
on?"
Porter tossed him the keys and rounded his Charger to thepassenger door. "You drive; I need to keep reading this diary.
There might be something helpful in it."
"Lazy bastard, you just like to be chauffeured around.
Driving Ms. Porter..."
"Fuck you.
it, or we‘ll get stuck with someone like Murray." He noddedtoward a detective standing in the hallway, who was staring atthe tip of his ballpoint pen. "I‘m thinking we bring the kid inas a CSI liaison."
Porter thought about this for a moment, then turned backto Watson."Any interest in working this case?"
"I‘m a private contractor with CSI. Can I work as lawenforcement?"
"As long as you don‘t shoot anyone," Nash said.
"I don‘t carry a weapon," he replied. "I never felt the needto take the exam. I‘m more of a bookworm."
"Chicago Metro has an agreement with the crime lab. Offi-nn loan," Porter explained. "Think
Laktcountryclub living combine."
«Talbot‘s real estate company?"
"Or his construction company, possibly both." Nashreached for the brochure. "I‘ve seen commercials for thisplace. They bulldozed dozens of warehouses and industrialfacilities on the lake, buildings just like this one, and they‘veheen replacing them with McMansions. The houses are huge,
|