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“Look,” I said, “I know you’ve got a weird homicide on your hands. I know the victim was buried alive. Obviously, you’ve got a seriously twisted killer. My specialty. You need me.”

“Like hell. I assigned the case to Granger.”

“Right, Granger-hawkshaw extraordinaire. Give me a break, Chief. Granger doesn’t know squat about aberrant psychology. Except maybe what he picks up when he looks in the mirror.”

“We’ll catch the killer, Susan. Without your invaluable assistance.”

I pointed to the photocopy on the table, the one with all the gibberish. “Is that part of the case?”

He shrugged. “We found that inside the girl’s coffin. But we can’t make heads or tails of-” He stopped short. “You are not getting involved, Susan. Give it up. Go home.”

Why was everything so difficult? Everyone kept babbling about how they wanted to help me, but every time I needed help, no one could deliver. “Chief, I need my job back. If I don’t get work, I’m going to lose Rachel.”

“That ship has already sailed.”

I was so frustrated, so furious, my hands tightened into fists.

“Are you going to spank my dad?” the kid-Darcy, I guess-asked.

If I thought it would help… “No. I told you, we talk like this-”

“Because whenever Unca Donald gets mad like that, he gets a switch and chases after his nephews and spanks them.”

There was something so strange about this young man, something so childlike and yet not, something unnerving because it was so ineffable. But I kept my attention focused on his father.

“Is this because of that jerk’s rich family?” I said. “Because if you’re doing this because you’re afraid of a lawsuit-”

“There isn’t going to be a lawsuit.”

This about-face caught me off guard. “Excuse me? This afternoon, you said-”

“No lawsuit.”

“Someone pulled some strings?”

“For you? Hell, no. You just got lucky.”

“What happened?”

“At the hospital today, some helpful RN knocked over a table where the frat boy had laid the pants he was wearing when you worked him over. And guess what fell out of his pocket? A little baggie filled with crystal meth.”

“You’re kidding me.”

“Like I said, you got lucky. Of course, there’s no evidence that he was using on the night in question. But it would certainly explain his aggressive and violent behavior.”

“Did he have aggressive and violent behavior?”

“Sure. That’s how the fight started, right? You had to defend yourself.”

“To tell the truth, I’m a little fuzzy on the details…”

“At any rate, that’s going to be our story, and it persuaded the guy’s family to entertain second thoughts. Even if they managed to overcome this brilliant defense at trial, the whole world would know their son was a drug user. Possible dealer. They didn’t think it was worth it.”

“That’s fabulous.”

“That’s dumb luck, which does not in any way excuse or justify what you did. I can’t use a cop I can’t trust, Susan. I can’t use a cop who might lose it at any moment. I can’t use a cop who might be sneaking drinks on the side.”

“Chief, that’s all behind me.”

“So you’re all cured now, huh?”

“Well… yeah, I’m over it.”

“Fit as a fiddle. One hundred percent. Ready to carry a gun again. Ready to be some other cop’s partner. Ready to have someone count on you, depend on you. Ready to have someone put their life in your hands.”

I didn’t bother answering.

“I care about you, Susan. I do. And that’s why I’m saying this. I will not reinstate you. You need to get help-professional help. This may be your last chance to save yourself before you’ve lost everything.”

“I’ve already lost everything.”

“No, you haven’t. But you will if you start drinking again. Now get out of here.”

I wanted to scream. “Fine! Have it your way. You won’t see me back here begging. Not for a blue moon. Not if-”

“And try not to be so angry all the time. Relax. Read a book. Get healthy.”

I couldn’t leave without giving it one more try. I dropped a scrap of paper on his table. “I’m leaving you my new address and phone, just in case you change your mind.”

“I won’t. Go.”

Darcy walked me to the door. He still talked in that too loud voice with the odd inflections, but he seemed to have lost the stutter. “Will you be coming again in two and a half years?”

“Why-?”

“That’s what you said.”

“I said I’m never coming back here.”

“Uh-huh.” He gave me that sheepish grin again. “What you said was: ‘You won’t see me back here begging. Not for a blue moon.’ ” The amazing thing was, he not only repeated what I had said verbatim, he mimicked my inflection. Then he shifted into a colder, almost singsong tone, as if he were reciting in front of a schoolroom. “ ‘A blue moon is the second full moon in a given calendar month, which in North America occurs approximately once every forty-one months, or approximately every two and a half years.’ ”

I gave him a long look. “I’m not coming back.”

“Oh. Is the reason that you will not come back because of me?”

“Of course not.”

“ ’Cause if it is, it’s okay. I know sometimes people don’t like me. My dad says it’s not my fault, but he still yells at me sometimes. Everyone yells at me sometimes.”

“It wasn’t you. Really.”

“Then-” His hands began to flap up and down. “Do you think that maybe you could come again sometime? My dad gets real lonely. I think he misses having a girl around.”

“I think your father made it clear… Never mind.” I wiggled my fingers, smiled faintly, and left. I probably should’ve said something more, but I couldn’t manage it. I was so depressed, so frustrated, so… empty. I didn’t have anything to spare for anyone else.

At first I thought the tall girl had a dog and I was worried because I don’t like dogs and dogs are scary mean and smelly, but it wasn’t a dog. The tall girl was sweaty and the hospital smells were still there a little and maybe one of those perfumes that she put on way too much of. I liked the girl and I think Dad likes her even though he was mean to her and she said he wasn’t mean to her but he was and I know that look like the coach at the YMCA when I was in the eighth grade. He smelled too and Cleanliness is next to Godliness and get your hands out of your hair and what is that smell and I liked her she was nice to me. I don’t know why she was nice to me but she was she touched me and I don’t like it when people touch me but sometimes I wish they would more. My love for Heathcliff resembles the eternal rocks beneath-a source of little visible delight, but necessary. I was right when I said I hoped she would come back because Dad is lonely but sometimes I’m lonely too and I like the tall girl with the eyes that don’t match and the bump on her nose and the yellow Post-it stuck to the sole of her shoe. The girls at the day care act nervous around me but this girl didn’t I think she liked me at least some maybe a little but when Dad talks to me I can’t talk any more and he gives me that look like he’s so disappointed in me. He spent hours on that simple puzzle and he never asked me never once did he ask me even though I like puzzles and he doesn’t. The girl was keeping secrets and not just that she’s been in the hospital but I like the girl and I hope she comes back.

I wonder if she has babies because my dad said you need a girl to have babies and I like babies. Babies are nice to me. They don’t mind when I’m around.

He rolled her remains into an old carpet, which made it easier to transport her to the pickup. He was learning, wasn’t he? He was an innovator, never content with the status quo, always searching for ways to improve himself.

He drove the short distance to his chosen disposal place. This would be much easier than the last. Almost no chance of being spotted here, not this time of night. It was perfect-thematically appropriate (though the police were unlikely to get the joke), risk-free, and certain to be discovered.