“Let go of me.”
“That’s how he knew where you were. When I called Jake and told him, he didn’t believe a word of it, but he went looking for you anyway.”
“Let go,” she said, wrenching her arm free. He could see that her fear had compounded. Despite the air conditioner blasting down on them, she was starting to sweat.
“Look,” he said, “I’m not trying to give you a hard time. I heard what I heard.”
“And maybe you’re as confused as he is. I really don’t need to be getting into this right now. I’ve had a pretty fucked-up night.”
“Just answer one question.”
“What?” She was sweating profusely now and seemed on the verge of a panic attack. Something was going on here that went well beyond the possibility of a psychic kid.
“Have you ever heard of someone called Chavi?”
McBride’s face fell. “What?”
“He seemed to be talking to this person. ‘Is it you, Chavi? Is it you?’ ”
If she’d lost a little color before, she lost it all now, saying, “I have to get out of here. I have to go.”
And then she was across the room and out the door, Pope rising, fumbling for his wallet as he watched her. He dropped a few bills on the table and followed.
In just the short time they’d been in the Spoon, the heat outside-heat he’d spent a lifetime in but had never gotten used to-had grown unbearable. McBride was working her way unsteadily across the strip mall’s parking lot, headed back toward the high school.
He caught up to her, touching her shoulder, and she spun on him, wobbling slightly. Her eyes were filled with tears.
“Leave me alone.”
“What’s going on?” Pope said. “What’s wrong?”
“I can’t do this anymore. It has to stop. I can’t…”
And then she fainted. Dead away.
PART TWO
2 0
There were stars on the ceiling.
Anna saw them the moment she opened her eyes. The shades had been drawn and the room, while not quite dark, was dim enough for the stars to shine. They had been carefully painted in Day-Glo yellow against a dark blue sky and were surrounded by multi-colored planets.
Anna turned her head and took in the rest of the room. Posters on the wall: Kobe Bryant executing a perfect three-point toss, Homer Simpson munching on a donut.
The dresser held a TV/DVD combo unit with a stack of Disney movies next it. A gaming console. Glove and baseball. A collection of tiny action figures, lined up for battle.
Obviously a boy’s room. But whose?
As soon as she sat up, Anna knew. On the nightstand next to the bed was a double-hinged picture frame, one side showing a photo of a freckle-faced boy on his dad’s lap-Pope and his son, Benjamin.
The other side was blank.
Was she in Vegas? That didn’t seem likely. The last thing she remembered was Pope getting in her face outside the coffee shop, the sun beating down on her so hard she thought she was going to pass out.
And she’d been crying. The events of the night, the visions, thoughts of her mother, the man in the red cap, the burns on her neck, Pope’s insistence that Evan was psychic, her belief that she herself might be psychic-hell, the last few weeks of her sad, sorry life-had all been too much for her to bear. An enormous pileup of physical and emotional freight that had caused a cave-in.
Overwhelmed was as good a word as any.
But the chances of Pope driving her forty miles to sin city were fairly remote, and this definitely wasn’t a suite at the Oasis.
So, she was still in Ludlow. But where?
Hearing voices from another room, Anna got to her feet and discovered she wasn’t wearing shoes. She found them at the foot of the bed, quickly slipped them on, then moved to the door and opened it a crack, peeking out.
Across a narrow hallway was a kitchen, bright sunlight streaming in through its windows. An attractive woman in her mid-thirties was framed by the kitchen doorway, talking to someone out of sight.
“Look at you,” she said. “When’s the last time you had a full night’s sleep and a decent meal?”
“Don’t start,” a voice told her.
Pope.
“We’ve been worried about you, Danny. Especially Jake. You’re so isolated out there. And living so close to the prison-that’s just creepy.”
“Turns out I’ve been evicted,” Pope said. “I won’t be going back anytime soon.”
“Good. We’ve got plenty of room here.”
“That might not be a good idea.”
“Why?”
“Take my word for it,” he told her.
“Because of your friend? Invite her to stay awhile, too.”
A small laugh. “We aren’t exactly friends. I barely know her.”
“You wouldn’t have gone to all the trouble of bringing her here if she didn’t mean something to you. She could just as easily be lying in the back of an EMT wagon.”
“Somebody collapses in your arms, you tend to feel responsible for them.”
The woman smiled. “Of course it doesn’t hurt she looks like a supermodel.”
“Really? I hadn’t noticed.”
“Oh, please. Just tell me this isn’t another one of your conquests.”
“You don’t think much of me, do you?”
“What’s to think about?” the woman said. “Back in high school, you would’ve come after me if Jake hadn’t put a stop to it.”
“Good old Jake,” Pope said. “Ruined it for everyone.”
They laughed. And while the laughter seemed a bit forced, even melancholy, there was a warm camaraderie between them that Anna envied. She had few friends and less family and spent most of her time on the job. She’d never been close to her father. After her mother died, she’d been cared for by a succession of nannies, some good, some bad, but none of them worth remembering.
She hadn’t known Pope for more than a couple hours, yet she knew he was a man who kept his pain private. But at least he had the option of sharing it with people who cared about him. Like this woman.
Anna didn’t have that option.
She did, however, know where she was now.
Worthington’s house.
Why they had a special room for Benjamin Pope wasn’t quite clear.
As the woman and Pope continued to laugh, the woman’s gaze shifted slightly. “You still hungry, hon? You want another bowl of cereal?”
“No thank you.”
