بخش 04 - فصل 28

28

Jerome parks his Wrangler with the nose almost touching the closed gate at 729 Lilac Drive, gets out, and pushes the call button. He has a reason to be here if someone from the Sugar Heights security patrol should stop and query him, but it will only work if the woman inside confirms him, and he’s not sure he can count on that. His earlier

conversation with the lady has suggested that she’s got one wheel on the road at most. In any case, he’s not challenged, and after a moment or two of standing there and trying to look as if he belongs–this is one of those occasions when he feels especially black–Holly answers. “Yes? Who is it?”

“Jerome, Ms. Gibney. Bill Hodges’s friend?” A pause so long he’s about to push the button again when she says, “You have the gate code?” “Yes.” “All right. And if you’re a friend of Mr. Hodges, I guess you can call me Holly.” He pushes the code and the gate opens. He drives through

and watches it close behind him. So far, so good. Holly is at the front door, peering at him through one of the side windows like a prisoner in a high-security visitation area. She’s wearing a housecoat over pajamas, and her hair is a mess. A brief nightmare scenario crosses Jerome’s mind: she pushes the panic button on the burglar

alarm panel (almost certainly right next to where she’s standing), and when the security guys arrive, she accuses him of being a burglar. Or a would-be rapist with a flannel-pajama fetish. The door is locked. He points to it. For a moment Holly just stands there like a robot with a dead battery. Then she turns the deadbolt. A

shrill peeping sound commences when Jerome opens the door and she takes several steps backward, covering her mouth with both hands. “Don’t let me get in trouble! I don’t want to get in trouble!” She’s twice as nervous as he is, and this eases Jerome’s mind. He punches the code into the burglar alarm and hits

ALL SECURE. The peeping stops. Holly collapses into an ornately carved chair that looks like it might have cost enough to pay for a year at a good college (although maybe not Harvard), her hair hanging around her face in dank wings. “Oh, this has been the worst day of my life,” she says. “Poor Janey. Poor poor Janey.”

“I’m sorry.” “But at least it’s not my fault.” She looks up at him with thin and pitiable defiance. “No one can say it was. I didn’t do anything.” “Of course you didn’t,” Jerome says. It comes out sounding stilted, but she smiles a little, so maybe it’s okay. “Is Mr. Hodges all right? He’s a very,

very, very nice man. Even though my mother doesn’t like him.” She shrugs. “But who does she like?” “He’s fine,” Jerome says, although he doubts if that’s true. “You’re black,” she says, looking at him, wide-eyed. Jerome looks down at his hands. “I am, aren’t I?”

She bursts into peals of shrill laughter. “I’m sorry. That was rude. It’s fine that you’re black.” “Black is whack,” Jerome says. “Of course it is. Totally whack.” She stands up, gnaws at her lower lip, then pistons out her hand with an obvious effort of will. “Put it there, Jerome.”

He shakes. Her hand is clammy. It’s like shaking the paw of a small and timid animal. “We have to hurry. If my mother and Uncle Henry come back and catch you in here, I’m in trouble.” You? Jerome thinks. What about the black kid? “The woman who used to live here was also your cousin,

right?” “Yes. Olivia Trelawney. I haven’t seen her since I was in college. She and my mother never got along.” She looks at him solemnly. “I had to drop out of college. I had issues.” Jerome bets she did. And does. Still, there’s something about her he likes. God knows what. It’s surely not that

fingernails-on-a-blackboard laugh. “Do you know where her computer is?” “Yes. I’ll show you. Can you be quick?” I better be, Jerome thinks.