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He shook my hand limply.  Oh shit, he said again.  I m really sorry. I had
no idea . . .
 I know. And you were just looking out for Angie, and that makes you okay in
my book, so why don t you come in.
I led him down the hall, and when Angie saw him she put down her cake and
walked briskly across the room, throwing her arms around his neck and giving
him a kiss. And not on the cheek, either. He glanced back nervously at me and,
pointing my way, whispered something to Angie. She looked at me, opened her
mouth as if in shock, then slowly a smile developed as she put it together.
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She shook her head at me, as if to say  What next? and then turned back to
Cameron to gave him another kiss.
Trevor was at the far end of the living room, watching Angie and Cameron
locked in their embrace, and even through his sunglasses, you could almost see
the hurt in his eyes.
He stood and watched them for a moment, then turned and walked out of the
room. I went after him, figuring a couple of words were in order, but he d
slipped through the kitchen and, apparently, out of the house.
An hour or so later, after everyone had cleared out, and Sarah and Paul were
out front making some farewell chitchat with our friends, the phone rang. I
grabbed it in the kitchen and looked at the sliver of cake still sitting on
the table. I was stuffed, but that didn t mean I wouldn t have more.
 Hello? I said.
 Hey. Even though the voice was tired and a bit weak, I recognized it
immediately.
 Lawrence! I said.  Is it ever nice to hear your voice. How are you?
 Well enough to make a phone call, anyway. Cops were by, filled me in a bit
on all your news.
 I tried to call yesterday, but the nurse said you were still pretty out of
it.
 Painkillers, man. Gotta love  em.
I told him my own version of the events of the last few days, filling in a
few gaps that had been overlooked by the cops.
Angie appeared in the kitchen doorway for a moment, and she d been cornered
by Trevor. Cameron, I gathered, had already left, along with most of our
guests. I was trying to hear what they were saying at the same time as I was
listening to Lawrence. Trevor was, I think, asking her again for a moment
alone to speak to her.
 Fine, okay, Angie said.
 Hang on, I said to Lawrence, and then to Trevor,  You off, man?
 Yeah, he said.  Thanks.
 We re just gonna walk down the street a bit, Angie told me.  I ll be back
soon to help you and Mom clean up. And, she said, looking scornful,  to
discuss what happened the other night at McDonald s.
 Sure, hon, I said.
Back to Lawrence. He said,  I guess this is the last time you take advice
from me on where to get a good deal on a car. Next time, try a dealer.
 Barbie Bullock said the same thing. Might be the only advice he ever gave
that was worth paying attention to.
 Yeah, well, shit, sorry. I feel terrible about all this, like it was my
fault.
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 It s okay. I ve still got the car. Got the door panels back, just need a
little body work on the back to patch some bullet holes. I paused.  There any
satisfaction in knowing that the guy who did this to you is no longer with
us?
 I ll tell you this much, Lawrence said.  If Bullock had lived, I don t know
that they d ever have convicted him for what he did to me.
 What do you mean?
 I d have made a pretty bad witness. I never really got a look at him. He got
me as I was coming down the hall, going into my study, the lights were off,
all of a sudden there s this searing pain in my gut as he drives in the knife,
and then he s gone. I managed to drag myself into the bedroom, and the next
thing I know I m waking up in a hospital.
 Yeah, well, maybe things have a way of working out, you know.
 I wanted to call you to say thanks, for being there, calling 911 and getting
me to a hospital, but also, I never had a chance to get back to you about that
Trevor Wylie kid.
 Oh yeah, I said, only now remembering that Lawrence had promised to give me
some information about the teenager when we met that night on our Brentwood s
stakeout. Only problem was, Lawrence and I never had that meeting.
 It hardly matters now, I said.
 Why?
 Well, he s a bit strange, no question, but I might not be talking to you now
if it weren t for him being in the right place at the right time. He s kind of
latching himself onto Angie, and she s going to have to hurt his feelings, I
suspect, but I imagine she ll be as nice about it as she can.
 Well, Lawrence said,  you know, just  cause a kid does something right
doesn t mean he s still not screwed up. Stalking someone, that s not normal
behavior.
Lawrence couldn t see my shrug at the other end of the phone. I mean, he was
right, but it all seemed a bit moot now.
 The thing is, Lawrence said,  I d done some checking on him that day, after
our run-in with him at your place, when we found him back of the garage, and I
got in touch with a few people I know who ll tell me things that they re not
supposed to, mental health types, and they faxed me some stuff, told me some
other things, and I d made some notes.
 Yeah? I said, slightly curious, my eyes still drifting back to the cake.
 This Wylie kid s got a long psychiatric history. Violent outbursts,
obsessive-compulsive behavior. Slightly delusional behavior. And there s
something about a sister.
 Yeah?
 The reason he s here, living without his parents, is, he attacked this
sister, maybe even tried to kill her. No charges were ever laid, the family
had enough money to make sure that didn t happen, they kept the authorities
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out of it, but they ended up kicking the kid out, he was scaring the shit out
of them.
I felt very cold.  You re not making this up, are you, Lawrence?
 There s more, Zack. I was checking out his car, that Chevy of his. This was
shortly after I left your place. It was unlocked, and down there between the
seats, I find all these snapshots of Angie. He d been taking pictures of her,
making a collection. And I grabbed those, nearly lost my hand to the fucking
dog when I did it, too. He was dozing in the backseat, woke up quick.
 Jesus, I said. That cold feeling had turned into a shiver. And I thought
back to a few nights earlier, when I d been riding behind Trevor s Chevy, on
the way out to Oakwood, and he d become distracted by something between the
seats. That must have been when he d discovered the pictures were missing.
 But here s the really creepy thing. I put those photos in a folder, with the [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]