“She has a lecture tonight,” I said.
“Yeah, but I think she’s going out after.”
I leaned in, as though we were conspirators. “She seeing someone?”
“Hey, don’t ask me. You want to know what she’s up to, ask her. I know how this works. I squeal on her, then you’ll be pumping her for information on what I’m doing.” He twirled some more linguine onto his fork. “I’m going to eat this. I don’t care that she’s not here.”
“How about you?” I asked. “You seeing someone?” Paul put the fork into his mouth, his cheek poking out on one side. I went on, “What about, what was her name, Wendy?”
Paul shook his head. He chewed a few times, washed the linguine down with some water. “I never went out with her. Besides, she has a butter face.”
“A butter face?”
“Yeah. Everything’s great, but her face.”
Angie came in. She’d changed her clothes, refreshed her makeup, brushed her hair. She looked-and as her father, this gave me the usual sinking feeling-terrific.
“Oh sure,” she said, looking at her brother eat. “Start without me, why don’t you.”
“Hey, you owe me. Dad’s asking me questions about your personal life, and I’m refusing to testify.”
She glared at me. “Is that true?”
“No,” I said.
“I need a car tonight,” Angie said, deciding that my attempt to pry information from her brother was too routine an occurrence to get worked up about. “I’ve got an evening lecture. And I really want to take the Virtue. I want to drive down with the sunroof open.”
“I don’t know, honey,” I said. “Why don’t I just give you a lift down? I could pick you up after.”
“I don’t believe this. We have this huge discussion, about how we need a second car, about how you don’t want me taking public transportation home late at night from school, and we get a second car, and you want to drive me down? When Mom isn’t even here, and there’s no one else who even needs the second car but me?”
Paul stopped chewing, looked at me, smiled. “Yeah, Dad.”
How could I make my case, that it would be better if I drove her, if I couldn’t bring forward my evidence? Was I going to tell her that I’d spoken to Trevor a short while ago, had tried as best I could to intimidate him, suggested that he back off and leave her alone?
She’d kill me.
And what of this cryptic warning from Lawrence, that someone might be after me? Did that mean anything, really? And if it did, did it have anything to do with Angie? That seemed unlikely.
Okay, maybe I could tell her that I’d seen a black SUV cruising up the street, that it looked like a very mean SUV, just like the one used by those guys who-
I was going to sound like a crazy person.
“I guess you can have the car,” I said. “I’ve just got a lot on my mind. It’s this story I’ve been working on, and I guess it’s got my danger radar working overtime.”
“Yeah, like we could tell the difference,” Angie said, sitting down. “But Dad, everything is okay. Honestly. You just need to chill.”
“I took the car into Otto today,” I said. “I think he’s fixed the starting problem. I haven’t had any trouble with it since he worked on it. But if you have any problems,
“Terrific,” Angie said. “Oh, and I need five dollars for parking.”
“Hold on, pardner,” I said. “There’s no way you’re getting parking money out of me. Not now that I know what I know.”
“Aw, come on, Dad. They may have closed off the walkway. I might actually need to pay to park this time.” Pleading.
“You showed Dad the secret way out?” Paul asked.
“I don’t know what I was thinking,” Angie said.
“What a dope.”
I wasn’t denying her the money on principle alone. By not giving her the five dollars, it was pretty much guaranteed that she’d sneak out of the Mackenzie grounds by using the route she’d showed me the day before. Which meant she’d be pulling out onto Edwards Street.
I could wait for her there.
If her lecture started at 8:30 P.M., as the note on the fridge calendar seemed to indicate, it would let out around 9:30. I could be in position, around 9:15, making sure, just one last time, that Trevor was no longer following her around.
And if he was, even after my chat with him, I’d have to think of something even more drastic. Maybe even a call to Detective Trimble.
“So, you doing anything after your lecture tonight?” I asked.
“Maybe,” said Angie. “Might see some friends.”
“Hey,” I said, like I’d just remembered something, “you ever keep in touch with any of your friends in Oakwood?”
Angie gave me a look that seemed to suggest a bad smell was coming off me. “God, no. I don’t keep in touch with anyone from out there.”
I nodded. “I thought you kept in touch with some of your Oakwood friends. You did do two years of high school there.”
“No, Dad.”
“How about other than students? You keep in touch with anyone from out there?”
“Dad, when would I even get out there?”
“You don’t actually have to go out there. You could talk, in one of your chat huts.”
Paul and Angie looked at each other. “Chat huts?” they said.
“Rooms. Chat rooms. You know what I mean.”
This set them both off. Paul knocked on the table, said to Angie, “Hello, may I come into your chat hut?”
Angie was laughing so hard she had tears in her eyes. “Sorry, no, this is a chat
“Oh, excuse me!” He wanted to get off another line, but he was laughing too hard to do it.
“Okay, enough already,” I said.
Angie, pulling herself together, said, “No, Dad, there’s no one from Oakwood I keep in touch with through my chat huts.” Paul slid out of his chair and onto the floor, clutching his side.
Should I ask her flat out? Ask her why she’d been to visit Trixie? But if I asked her now, I’d have to come clean on the whole surveillance thing, and if I did
So I let it go.
“I’ve got stuff to do,” Angie said, taking her plate to the counter. Paul managed to get up and followed her out of the kitchen.
“I have to lie down,” he said, still laughing. “I think I’m gonna die.”
Shortly before eight, Angie went downstairs, shouted, “See ya!”
I scrambled out of my study, where I still tried writing books but more often built models of spaceships and other science fiction kitsch, like my recently completed models of the Green Hornet’s Black Beauty, and Gort, the iconic robot from
“Hey,” I yelled down to her. “You be careful tonight, okay?”
“Oh!” Angie said. “I just realized. I don’t even have a key for the new car.”
“Two came with it,” I said. “Hang on.” I’d left the second one in a dish where I keep spare change on top of my dresser. “Come to the bottom of the stairs.” She did and I tossed it down to her.
“You look good, by the way,” Angie said, doing up the buttons on her blue coat.
“Huh?”
“Your clothes. I meant to say something at dinner, but got kind of distracted. They look good on you. Are you
