Forever

I blinked at the question and crossed my arms. She looked at my crossed arms as though they were part of my answer. I said, “I — hadn’t given it a lot of thought yet.” I didn’t want her to think I was unmotivated, though, so I said, “I’m waiting to see where Grace goes to school.”

I realized, half a moment later, that this statement was wrong, for about three different reasons, primary amongst them being that Grace was officially missing.

Karyn didn’t look pitying or puzzled, however. She just gave me a long, pensive look, her lips set in a small line and one of her thumbs sort of resting on the bottom of her chin. I felt, then, like she knew, somehow, about us, and that this was merely a pretense that Beck and I played with her.

Don’t ask.

She said, “I was just wondering because, if you’re not going to school right away, I was going to ask if you wanted to work full-time here.”

It was not what I’d expected her to say, so I didn’t answer.

Karyn said, “I know what you’re thinking, that it’s not a lot of money. I’ll up your hourly by two dollars.”

“You can’t afford that.”

“You sell a lot of books for us. It would make me feel better to know that you’re always the one behind the counter. Every day you’re sitting on that stool is a day I don’t have to worry about what’s going on in here.”

“I —” Really, I was grateful for the offer. Not because I needed the money, but because I needed the trust. My face felt warm, a smile pending.

Karyn pressed on, “I mean, I feel a little guilty, trying to keep you out of college for another year, but if you’re waiting anyway …”

I heard the front-door bell ring as it opened. One of us was going to have to go up there, and I was glad for it. Not because the conversation was awkward or terrible, but the opposite. I needed a moment to process this, to hold all this at an arm’s length so I could be sure of my face and my words when I spoke again. I felt like I looked too ungrateful, too slow. I asked, “Can I think about it?”

“I would’ve been amazed if you didn’t,” Karyn said. “You’re a little predictable, Sam.”

I grinned at her and turned to head back to the front, which is how I happened to be smiling when the police officer first saw me.

My smile melted away. Actually, it remained for just a moment too long, my lips pulled up to show an emotion that had vanished seconds before. The police officer could have been there for anything. He could’ve been there to talk to Karyn. He could’ve been there with just a quick question.

But I knew he wasn’t.

I saw now that he was Officer William Koenig. Koenig was young, understated, familiar. I wanted to think that our previous exchanges would weight things in my favor, but his face told me everything I needed to know. His expression was the purposefully blank one of someone who was being made to regret his past kindnesses.

“You’re a hard man to find, Sam,” Koenig said as I slowly approached him. My hands felt sort of useless hanging at my sides.

“Am I?” I asked. I felt prickling, defensive, although his tone was light. Being found was not something I cared for. Being looked for wasn’t something I liked, either.

“I told them this was the place to find you,” Koenig said.

I nodded. “That’s a pretty fair guess.” I felt like I should ask him What can I do for you? but I didn’t really want to know. Mostly I wanted to be left alone to process everything that had happened to me in the past seventy-two hours.

“We actually need to ask you a few questions,” Koenig said. Behind him, the door dinged as a woman came in. She had a giant purple bag that I couldn’t stop staring at.

“Where are your self-help books?” she asked me. She seemed utterly oblivious to the fact that there was a police officer in front of me. Maybe people spoke with police officers on a casual basis all the time. It was hard to imagine.

If Koenig hadn’t been there, I would have told her that every book ever written was a self-help book and could she be more specific? And she would’ve left with four books instead of one, because that was what I did. But with Koenig there, I just said, “Over there. Behind you.”

“Back at the department,” Koenig said. “For your privacy.”

For my privacy.

This was bad.

“Sam?” Koenig said.

I realized I was still watching that purple leather bag move slowly through the store. The woman’s cell phone had rung and now she was yammering on it. “Okay,” I said. “I mean, I have to, don’t I?”

Koenig said, “You don’t have to do anything. But things are a lot less ugly without a warrant.”

I nodded my head. Words. I needed to say something. What did I need to say? I thought of Karyn, sitting there in the back, thinking all was fine up front because I was here. “I need to tell my boss that I’m leaving. Is that all right?”

“Of course.”

I felt him drifting after me as I headed to the back of the store. “Karyn,” I said, leaning on the doorframe. I could not make my voice casual, but I tried. It occurred to me that I didn’t normally address her by her name, and it felt wrong in my mouth. “I’m sorry. I have to go for a little bit. Um, Officer Koenig — they would like me to go in for questions.”

For one second, her expression stayed the same, and then everything about it hardened. “They what? Are they here now?”

She pushed out of her chair and I backed up so that she could stand in the doorway and confirm that Koenig was standing in the aisle, staring up at one of the paper cranes that I’d hung from the balcony above.

“What’s going on now?” she asked. It was her brisk, efficient voice that she used when she was speaking to a difficult customer; it stood for no crap and kept emotion out of it. Business Karyn, we both called it. It turned her into a completely different person.

“Ma’am,” Koenig said apologetically — this was a natural response to Business Karyn — “one of our investigators has questions for Sam. He asked if I would bring him back for a chat in some privacy.”

“A chat,” Karyn echoed. “The sort of chat that would be better with a lawyer present?”

“That’s entirely up to Sam. But he’s not being charged with anything right now.”

Right. Now.

Karyn and I both heard it. Right now was another way of saying yet. She looked at me. “Sam, do you want me to call Geoffrey?”