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Listening to trees creaking and the howl of the wind building up high in the mountains, I said, “Yeah. I told you I’ll drive you to work.”
“Oh, right, but I meant after work. Dinner?”
“We’ll see,” I said. I was planning another stakeout, but maybe it would be better if I did it on my own.
“Frank? What’s going on? I feel like something changed between us tonight.”
“Just tired,” I said, and I lifted her hand to my lips, brushing them over her knuckles. “Get some rest. I’ll be here at 8:45.”
When she leaned across the seat to kiss me, I kissed her back, watching the way her eyes fell closed, trying again to see through this thing between us. Trying to navigate our divide. Whatever she was holding to her chest about her past was blocking my view, and the things I was keeping in were creeping up everywhere, making mountains out of molehills.
“Night, Samantha.”
“Okay. Good night. See you in the morning.”
* * *
“How’s it goin’ with your girl?” the other Little Miss Nosy in my life asked when I got to the station to write down some thoughts I’d had about where to look for Murphy. I didn’t want to forget. “I’m gettin’ all kindsa reports about you.”
“What’re you doin’ here, Shelley? You don’t usually work the night shift.”
“No, but I could use the extra cash, and my mom don’t mind. Since Liam and I moved in with her, it’s kinda like a vacation when I can get outta the house for a while.” She nodded toward the TV in the corner with a paused image of a young man and woman lip-locked in some kind of embrace. What was it with the women around here? Sappy love bullshit everywhere. “I get to watch my shows uninterrupted all night, and I could even read a book if I wanted to.”
I flashed her a doubtful look, and she laughed.
“Okay, fine, so I don’t read, but the point is that I could.” She cocked her head a little. “So? You gonna tell me, or do I gotta coax the info outta Carey and Abey?”
I didn’t answer as I looked over the nightshift call list. There wasn’t anything on it that could be related to the kid.
“Really? You’re not gonna tell me about the librarian?”
“Shelley,” I warned.
She laughed. “Frank. Hey, you’re not supposed to be on duty. Why you out and about this late anyway?”
“Just lookin’ into somethin’. I’m headin’ home now.”
“Alright. Have a good sleep.”
“Yeah, I will, but call me if you get any odd reports tonight.”
“Carey’s on duty—”
“I know, but call me anyway.”
“Okay,” she said, lifting the TV remote to restart her show. “Will do.”
* * *
The next few days were a goddamn bust.
I searched and searched for the kid and found nothing. He was nowhere. There were no more break-ins, nothing suspicious at all.
Murphy and Samantha had all kinds of memories bashing around in my head. I didn’t usually think about my time on the streets, but I was now. Couldn’t get it out of my mind. Every alley I searched looking for Murphy was an alley in Dallas, or any of the handful of smaller towns I passed through as I made my way east on my own, a thirteen-year-old kid with no money, no parent, no food, and nowhere to stay at night.
When my father passed away, my mama never recovered, and I was still paying for it, even though she’d been gone from my life for years.
I had been so pissed at her for dragging me around the night before she died, ’cause I had a math test the next day and was afraid I’d fail since it had been hard to do my practice problems with the loud music thumping and vagrants wandering in and out while she gave into her demons in the back room with her dealer.
