What Strange Creatures (25 page)

“But with Kim?”

“I gave Kim a pass. Her stuff was so hit-or-miss. Seemed I should set her up for a hit. Anyway. She handed this in. I only thought of it because you mentioned Jenny Spicer’s brother. It’s probably nothing, but I thought you might want to see it.”

I took the paper from Zach and read Kim’s essay.

“She was experimenting with capital letters,” Zach offered.

“I can see that,” I replied. I was glad to have something to respond to besides the content.

“What do you think?” Zach asked.

“This is . . . intriguing,” I admitted.

Zach shrugged. “Something else I probably shouldn’t be sharing.”

“But thank you for doing it anyway,” I said.

“Probably not useful to you, but . . .”

“It actually is,” I said.

“I remember writing on it that she should put in more ‘sense-of-place details’ and that I’d appreciate a few more specifics about Snake Eyes so I could picture him better. Now I feel kind of like a creeper for that.”

I was distracted, wondering if I should tell him about Colleen Shipley. Surely there was some drama and confusion surrounding Kyle and Kim kissing in the basement. And surely it had factored significantly in Kim’s mind. But what it had to do with Jenny or Andrew—or Donald Wallace, for that matter—I couldn’t quite make out yet.

“I’m sure she didn’t think you were a creeper,” I said. “I’ll bet she was flattered you were interested enough to ask for more.”

“The piece is clearly spare for a reason. It was a painful memory. She’d said enough, actually. I don’t think a smart reader would need much elaboration.”

“Maybe, maybe not,” I murmured.

I was only half listening to Zach. Whatever this meant, I could think of someone who might be more frightened of it than Donald Wallace. If I had the timing right, Kim had been too young to be doing
anything
in a basement with an older boy around the time of Jenny’s death. And this older boy was the brother of her dead friend. How had that affected her testimony about Andrew Abbott?

Zach seemed to sense my distraction.

“You mentioned that shortly before she died, Kim had talked to Janice Obermeier, who works at the
Chronicle,
” he said. “Would you like me to give her a call? Do you think that would help?”

“Jeff talked to her already,” I said. “She thought Kim was a crazy person, going on about some special footage she had.”

“She might be more forthcoming about the details if she’s talking to . . .” Zach paused. “To a colleague.”

“She might. I don’t know how it works with you journalist types.”

I watched a young mother park her little boy in one of the black Starbucks chairs. She handed him a cookie studded with M&M’s, then settled across from him with her laptop.

“While you’re putting your journalistic brain on it, do you all know how to get a hold of politicians’ home addresses?” I asked.

“What?”
Zach said. “Theresa, if you really want to check out Donald Wallace, he’s doing a lot of campaigning. You could probably catch him at—”

“Never mind.” I didn’t need for Zach to know I was headed for crazy town. “Sure, try Janice Obermeier. If you want. I mean, I don’t want you to be sucked into this if it’s going to get you in trouble.”

I watched the boy take a big bite out of his cookie.

“Theresa.”

“Yeah?” I turned my attention back to Zach.

“I don’t feel ‘sucked in.’ I’ve been thinking a lot about all this since you told me about those tapes. These situations scare me.” He took a long sip of his coffee. “Situations where people can take advantage of their power and think they can get away with it. Corruption from the people who are supposed to be the good ones. Or at least the ones who are supposed to be
lawful.
I saw a great deal of that when I was younger, actually. More than I even put in my book.”

I sensed him hesitating, waiting for a response. “What do you mean?”

“Well, I
didn’t
mean to make this about me. I’m just telling you why I’m taking this seriously. Some people don’t believe that this shit can happen. I’ve seen that it can.”

“But what are you referring to?” I asked.

“Well, when I was in detention . . .” he began.

Then I felt him hesitating again. Most likely he didn’t want to say what he’d seen go down in a juvenile-detention center. I had a brother in a county facility—and who might even go to a real maximum-security prison—both of which were surely much worse. It seemed to me he was trying to think of a way to distract me from my own question—but wasn’t thinking fast enough.

“Say,”
I demanded.

“There were these incidents with prison guards. There were scheduled fights, and guards were betting on them. One kid nearly died. Fell into a coma. Brain damage. I doubt he completely recovered.”

“The guards?”

“Yeah. That’s what I’m saying. People with power doing shit you wouldn’t believe. Some people might hear you speculating about Donald Wallace—or someone connected to him—having something to do with Kim and think, ‘No way.’ But not me. I’m not a skeptic when it comes to abuse of power.”

“Did you put that thing about the guards in your book, Zach?”

“No.”

“Why the hell not?” I couldn’t help but ask.

“Sarah—that’s my ex-girlfriend—she asked me the same thing.”

Did he say “ex-”? Yes, he did. I wondered if Sarah was the young lady I’d seen who’d reminded me of Kate Middleton.

“And?” I said.

“Well, it didn’t happen to
me.
It was just something I heard about, and I never got quite the full story, because stuff was covered up so much. And I was worried how it would look to the facilities and staff I used in the present-day part of the book. Like Sharon Silverstein. Those people were really good to me, really welcoming. If I shared a story like that about my own experience, in the context of a book mostly about kids in
their
comparatively well-run facilities . . . I worried about the implication. Especially when I doubted I could verify it to begin with. And I had a feeling it might be a whole other book, delving into that story.”

“It might still be,” I said. “Were you with Sarah when you wrote the book? Did she help you decide what to put in and leave out?”

“No. We got together after the book was out. I met her at a reading.”

I nodded.

“We broke up this summer,” Zach added.

So Sarah
was
Kate Middleton. And it didn’t sound like there was anyone else. “I’m sorry.”

“Thanks.” Zach looked at his cookie, which I hadn’t touched. “I suppose you’re not hungry, looks like?”

“I’m sorry. Not really.”

“Because I was going to ask if you would let me treat you at that falafel place a couple doors down.”

“Maybe after my brother gets out,” I said. “He gets out tomorrow. Maybe I can be lucid company after that.”

“Oh my God. I didn’t even ask you about bail. I meant to. I’m sorry.”

“It’s high, but we’re managing it. We’ll have him out first thing tomorrow morning. Maybe you and I can have falafel sometime after that.”

“Probably you want to be with your family,” Zach said. “I shouldn’t intrude.”

Zach reached up and gripped my shoulder, giving it a quick but reassuring squeeze. I allowed myself to meet his gaze. His eyes were warm and engaging. But the mention of Snake Eyes in Kim’s garbled essay reminded me that I needed to get back to Nathan’s lair. I had to get my hands on that footage.

“Can I keep this?” I said, waving Kim’s essay.

“Sure.”

As I started to walk out of the shop, I thought about Nathan for a moment. I thought about his George Michael earring and his fresh-frozen mice. Then I looked back at Zach as I opened the Starbucks door. It made me a little sad to leave him there, gazing down at his big ginger-molasses comfort cookie.

But I had to get back to Nathan for Jeff’s sake. Besides, there had always been a clear difference between the sort of guy I wanted and the sort I deserved.

Before Nathan, though, I wanted to drop in on Kyle Spicer. If I left right away, I could get to Carpet World before it closed. I fed Boober and the cats, hooked a leash on Wayne, and drove to Ricksville.

It was already getting dark when I got to the Carpet World–Beverage Superstore strip mall. At first I kept my distance from the building, standing by my car with Wayne, watching people entering and exiting the liquor store in the twilight. But I was afraid I might miss Kyle when he left. I crossed onto the storefront sidewalk and cupped my hand to peek into the front window. The lights were on, but I didn’t see any movement. For a few minutes, I watched Wayne sniff around a lilac-brown wad of chewing gum flattened into the sidewalk.

“Let’s see how you do this time, Wayne,” I whispered to him. “Get me some more leads and you’ll get another hamburger. No, don’t
lick
that thing, man.”

“Well, if it isn’t Margery Lipinski,” someone said from behind me.

It was Kyle Spicer, approaching from the parking lot with a large paper coffee cup in his hand. “And is that Wayne?”

“Yes,” I said. Wayne looked up from his gum and gave a sharp yap in Kyle’s direction. “And you can call me Margie.”

Kyle looked different from last time. Not laid-back, exactly. Just less oily. There was less shine in his hair and less snap in his eyes. I prayed he wouldn’t yell at me again. This time I might have to yell back, and I wasn’t sure where that kind of sass was going to come from.

“I don’t work for Donald Wallace,” I offered.

“Yeah,” he said, unlocking the shop door. “I figured that out after you left. How did you end up with old Wayne here?”

“So you know Wayne?”

“Of course I know Wayne. He lived with me for a little while. When Kim and I were together.”

“Did you and Kim get him together?”

“No. She got him when we were broken up for a short time. I’m not an animal person. He and I weren’t buddies, really.”

“That explains why he doesn’t seem to . . . uh . . . recognize you.”

Kyle sipped his coffee and wiped his lips with his thumb. “Are you planning on standing here all evening?”

“No.” I looked down at Wayne, who hung out a noncommittal tip of his tongue. “But I’m sure dogs aren’t allowed in Carpet World.”

“True that, Margie,” Kyle said. “Especially not this clown. I still have his bite marks in my Ekornes recliner.”

“I don’t know what that is.”

“It’s a fancy chair. I watch TV in it. Now, you never said how you got Wayne.”

“Kim gave him to me to take care of for a weekend. And then she never came back.”

“Oh. Why didn’t you tell me that the first time you came?”

“I tried. You kicked me out first.”

“You didn’t try very hard.”

“Maybe not. But I’m here now.”

“And
why
are you here now?” Kyle rubbed the bridge of his nose and squeezed his eyes shut for a moment. “Are you offering Wayne to me?”

“No. I wanted to ask you about a few things you said that day. In light of what’s happened, I thought you might be willing now.”

Kyle extended his coffee cup. “You mind holding this? I’d kind of like to smoke. If it’s not gonna bother you too much.”

“Nope,” I said, taking the cup from him. It wasn’t warm at all.

Kyle produced a lighter and a cigarette from his back pockets.

“Have the cops talked to you yet?” he asked.

“Um . . . no. Did they talk to you?”

“Yeah. Of course. Kim’s my ex-girlfriend.”

“Did you talk to them about Donald Wallace at all?”

Kyle grimaced as he took his first pull on the cigarette. “No. Her boyfriend killed her. That’s mostly what they asked about.”

“But last time I came here, you seemed to think Donald Wallace was after you.”

“I didn’t say that.” Kyle exhaled smoke through his nostrils. “Nothing that dramatic.”