Part 16 (2/2)

”Gilly.”

”Whatever,” she muttered, already halfway out the door. But she didn't turn left at the hallway, toward the exit. Instead, she retraced her steps back to the R & D lab. Arthur, the lab technician, was mas.h.i.+ng those furry white carrots-belladonna. ”Miss Duncan,” he said without glancing up. ”What can I do for you?”

”Um, my dad asked me to bring a sample of atropine to his office.”

”What for?”

Gilly blanched. She hadn't gotten this far in her mind. ”I don't know. He just asked me to get it.”

”How much?”

She pointed to a little pool in the base of a test tube. ”He didn't say. I guess that's enough.”

The supervisor capped the tube and handed it to her. ”Wear your gloves out of the lab. You don't want to touch that stuff with your bare hands.”

”Thanks.” She slipped the vial into the pocket of her fleece jacket, keeping her hand fisted around her treasure as she walked straight home, just like her father had wanted.

”This is the bathroom,” Addie said, blus.h.i.+ng faintly.

Jack smiled. ”You don't have to give me the grand tour. Really.” It had been some time since Addie had had to share her s.p.a.ce. Add to that the forced intimacy in a relations.h.i.+p still so new Jack could still see the s.h.i.+ne on it, and he could not help but wonder if he was making a tremendous mistake.

”And this,” Addie said, her hand on a doork.n.o.b, ”is Chloe's room.”

It was the only room in the house Jack had not seen. And as Addie slowly opened the door, he also realized it was the only room in the house that was not neat. Toys littered the floor like landmines, and clothes were draped over the back of a chair. A poster of a boys' band that hadn't made a record in nearly a decade was taped to the wall, peeling from one corner. On a shelf sat a parade of outgrown teddy bears, missing eyes and frayed at the limbs. The bed, a confection of pink ruffles, was unmade, as if Addie slept in it from time to time-a thought that tugged at Jack but seemed less heartbreaking than the alternative: that for eleven years, Addie had simply left this room as a shrine.

Still, it was only a bed, and linens could be changed. Toys could be put away. ”I could stay here,” Jack suggested. ”Give you a little more privacy.”

”No. You can't.” She stood beside the chair, smoothing her hand over the fabric of an impossibly small white s.h.i.+rt.

”Addie-”

”You can't,” she repeated. ”You just can't.”

”All right,” he said softly, understanding that this was a line he could not cross. He followed her out and closed the door quickly, thinking all the while of Pandora's box: of what he had let loose by breaching the seal of this room, and of hope, which might still have been trapped inside.

The scent of smoke was strong at the diner, but it didn't bother Selena. ”It's like a barbecue,” she said, watching Jordan wrinkle his nose as he slid into the booth.

”Yeah. Except it's the facility that's roasting.”

Addie came to the table carrying two mugs and a pot full of coffee. ”Cream and sugar, right?”

Selena smiled at the waitress. ”Can I get a cup of hot water, with lemon?”

Addie nodded and went off toward the counter. ”It's disgusting, you know, the way you drink that,” Jordan said. ”People use the same thing to wash their dishes.”

”Then think how clean my insides are.” She took the steaming mug from Addie.

”I had a customer who used to drink hot water,” Addie mused. ”She lived to be a hundred and six.”

”Get out,” Jordan said.

”Honestly.”

”How did she die?” asked Selena.

”Another waitress here served her coffee instead one day.” Addie winked. ”I'll be back to get your order in a minute.”

Selena watched her go. ”She seems nice enough.”

”She comes from good people, as they'd say around these parts.” Jordan shook out his copy of the paper. ”Certainly doesn't deserve all the flak she's getting now.”

”Such as?”

”Oh, the fire. And the backlash about the fellow who works in the kitchen.”

Jordan raised the paper to read the headlines. With a fork, Selena tugged down the edge. ”h.e.l.lo,” she said. ”Remember me? I'm your breakfast date.”

”Give me a break.”

”Don't tempt me. What's the story with the guy who works here?”

Jordan pushed the newspaper across the table. Folded to the editorial page, there were no less than six letters addressing the ”unsavory influences” that had recently moved into town. Selena scanned the brief missives, all in favor of riding Jack St. Bride out on a rail. ”What did he do? Rob a bank?”

”Rape a girl.”

Selena looked up, whistling softly. ”Well, you can't blame a community for trying to protect itself. You ask me, that's the whole point behind Megan's Law.”

”At the same time, it's prejudicial to the person who has to report in. If an entire community identifies a guy by his past convictions, how will anybody ever get past that to accept his presence?”

Selena peeked under the table. ”What the h.e.l.l are you doing?” Jordan asked.

”Making sure you've gotten off your soapbox. You know d.a.m.n well that perps of s.e.x crimes are repeat offenders. How do you think you'd feel if he targeted, oh, fifteen-year-old boys?”

”Repeat offenders,” Jordan said, snapping the newspaper open again, ”are good for business.”

Selena's jaw dropped. ”That is quite possibly the most inhuman thing I've ever heard fall out of your mouth, McAfee, and believe me, there've been plenty.”

”Ah, but defense attorneys aren't supposed to be human. It makes it easier to sink down to everyone's very low expectations.”

But Selena didn't take the bait. She was thinking that Jordan was was human, far too human, and she should know, because she was the one who had broken his heart. human, far too human, and she should know, because she was the one who had broken his heart.

”Come on,” Gilly urged. ”What's he going to do? Attack us right on the counter?”

Beside her, Meg squinted at the neon sign overhead. The R R had never been quite as bright as the other letters. She could remember giggling about it years ago, because back then the most hilarious thing in the world was the thought of a restaurant called the Doo Diner. ”My dad would kill me,” Meg said. had never been quite as bright as the other letters. She could remember giggling about it years ago, because back then the most hilarious thing in the world was the thought of a restaurant called the Doo Diner. ”My dad would kill me,” Meg said.

”Your dad will never know. Come on, Meggie. Do you want to be the kind of person who hides in the back when everyone else is fighting the dragon, or do you want to be holding the sword?”

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