Page 121 of Not a Word

“Did Grandpa know Alicia?” Gage asked.

Holden slowly shook his head. “No, I mean, I don’t think so. How could he? And even if they’d met, even if they were friends, why would one of his magazines be here?”

“He lent it to her? Gave it to her?”

Holden stared vacantly. “I mean, let’s say he knew her, which I don’t think he did, why would he give her this? Alicia wasn’t even into cars.”

“He came by? Brought the magazine with him?”

Holden just looked at Gage.

Gage raised his arms. “You got a better explanation?”

“Sorry. No.” His eyes went back to the shreds of duct tape on the floor by the table, wondering if there could be a connection and coming up with nothing. But he said, “She didn’t know my dad, but she knew who he was. I told her all about him, about Mom, about what happened. I told her about everything that went down that night. So . . .”

“So maybe she talked to him?” Gage offered. “Before what happened yesterday? She went to the house?”

Holden wanted to sit down, puzzle this out, but he was still mindful about touching anything. “What about those?” he said, pointing to some other magazines on the coffee table in front of the couch.

Gage moved them around with his knuckles, careful not to let his fingertips touch any surface. “There’s a couple of Peoples and a Vanity Fair and Us. There’s no address on them.”

Holden moved nearer to the table, looked down at the magazines, needing to see for himself. He examined the car magazine again. “This issue is two years old. I mean, if she’d stolen my parents’ mail or something crazy like that, it’d be a new issue, right? But this is one that had been sitting around, in a pile. My parents, they let magazines pile up, they can be months or years old before they toss them into the recycling.”

Gage remained as baffled as his uncle. Finally, he said, “I guess it’s a question for Grandma. Maybe she’ll know.”

“Yeah, maybe.” He grimaced, then nodded decisively. “We’re outta here. Bring that magazine.”

They navigated their way around Alicia and the blood to the door. Holden pulled the sleeve of his jacket forward over his hand to turn the knob, peeked into the hallway to be sure no one was there, and stepped out, Gage following. Before heading for the elevator, Holden used his sleeve to rub the exterior door handle.

They went swiftly down the hall, Gage hitting the elevator button with his knuckle.

“You’re learning,” Holden whispered.

Once the elevator arrived and they boarded, Holden lightly rubbed the button he had pressed to come to this floor originally, but said to Gage, “A lot of people will have pushed these buttons before the cops get here.”

They got into the Honda.

“I’ll take you home,” Holden said as they buckled up.

“No,” Gage said.

Holden glanced over as he keyed the ignition. “You sure?”

Gage nodded. “I gotta know.”

As they drove off, Holden became quiet, thinking. “I’m starting to wonder.”

“Wonder what?”

“If Alicia . . . I really liked her, you know? Like, she was the best thing that had happened to me in a long time. We had a lot in common. But she kind of . . . she kind of leaned on me.”

“Like, you mean . . .”

“Yeah. She could be, you know, manipulative.”

Gage said nothing. He was thinking about something he’d learned when he’d visited Moira.

“There’s shit I never would even have thought of if it wasn’t for her,” Holden said, more thinking out loud than actually talking to Gage.