Page 37 of The Corruption of Hollis Brown

Who is Annie?

Walt didn’t even wait for him to answer.

A girl, the one you like. Not that pretty one we just talked to, which is wild to me. How much of a looker can Annie be to turn your head like that? Annie, Annie, Annie. She makes your blood pressure spike, you horndog. You’re making our face red.

My face. And she lives next door. I’ve known her since I was, like, nine. It wouldn’t matter what she looked like, Hollis said hotly. And don’t tease me about it; this isn’t a game.

Walt laughed softly. Yeah, yeah. She like you back?

No. I don’t want her to either; everything is fine as it is. You don’t have to do anything to Annie, just be nice to her.

Walt made an unusual noise. A purr that warmed the back of Hollis’s throat.

You got it.

Road

On Thursday, the police came. Mrs. Brown got to the door before Hollis could, and they lumbered inside.

Hollis could feel Walt’s hackles rising and it was . . .

Hollis realized that he hadn’t felt Walt feeling anything bad before. Walt’s emotions were muted at the best of times, like being touched through a blanket. It was only now that Hollis realized how careful Walt had been to keep things light and give Hollis a blank tapestry to project his own feelings of terror and anger.

But now he was anxious and irritated. Frightened in a way that felt old.

Calm down.

Don’t tell me what to do, Walt snapped.

Cute. Let me handle this. I can talk to cops.

We don’t have time for lessons about that, just . . . hush up and let me think.

“Hollis?” Mrs. Brown called. “Can you come here, please?”

Walt’s panic was sharp and involuntary. Hollis tried something new.

Go downstairs. I’m not asking, Hollis barked, authoritative.

Despair washed over them like a wave, but Walt obeyed and opened Hollis’s bedroom door.

The police didn’t look impressed at the wait. They were older men, hands around the mugs of coffee Mrs. Brown had poured them, a stack of documents in the center of the table.

“Man of the hour,” one of them said sarcastically. He was short and had a thick mustache.

“What do you want?” Walt snapped.

“Hollis,” Mrs. Brown hissed.

The taller officer raised an eyebrow but didn’t take the bait.

“We need you to sign off on these forms. Tracks were found at the Rose Town pond and the back door to the property was inaccessible due to significant rusting. Nothing came in or out of that basement that didn’t make it in through the front door,” he said. “Not even you.”

Walt snatched up the paper and read it quickly.

“Don’t know what that kid did down there, who he pissed off, but it certainly wasn’t your boy, Sheila,” the man was saying.

Walt leaned over the table and picked up the pen.