Willard beamed again.

Turning, she caught sight of Petey Jeppsen in the opposite cell. Hey, Petey. Petey, lying flat on his back and staring at the ceiling, said, Hey, Kate. What for this time?

Petey was tall and thin, with deep-set dark blue eyes, hollow cheeks, and stiff dishwater-blond hair cut short in no perceptible style. He wore worn jeans and a dark blue fleece over a plaid shirt. His voice was deep and low and would have been pleasant on the ear but for its suggestion of a whine. It was only a suggestion, though, a distinct improvement from the last time she‘d had any serious contact with him, when the whine was threatening to take over his entire world view. He had closed his eyes at her question, willing her away. She stood where she was. He sighed and opened his eyes to stare at the ceiling again. Howie Katelnikof knew a guy who—

Yeah, you can stop right there, Kate said. Come on, Petey, you know better than to hook up with Howie for any reason whatever. What the hell were you thinking? Not to mention that Petey was here and Howie wasn‘t. She was proud of the mercy she showed by not pointing that out.

He took a deep breath and let it out, slowly. He sat up, slowly. He leaned forward, slowly, to rest his elbows on his knees. He raised his head to look at her, slowly. What the hell else am I supposed to do, Kate?

Get a job? Kate said.

He snorted, but there wasn‘t much life in it. Nobody wants to hire a felon. He was gathering steam and in spite of the subject matter she was glad to see there was some life left in the kid. He was only—what? Twenty-two? Twenty-three? Nobody wants to hire a felon, or rent them an apartment, or make a car loan to one, either.

H aveyou ever been convicted of afelony?The question was on every job application, every loan application, every rental agreement. There are programs, she said. Your probation officer—

He laughed. There was no amusement in the sound. My PO. I check in with him once a week just so he can tell me how worthless I am. Yeah, he‘ll get me set up with a program, all right. He probably gave my name to Howie when Howie went looking for someone to help him clean out that garage. And his first call right after that was probably to Chopper Jim.

Your folks—

No, he said, his voice rising. They told me never to come back. I don‘t want to, anyway. I‘ve had about all I can stand of preaching.

The Jeppsens were born-again Christian fundamentalists who had moved to the Park twenty-some years before. Except for a dispute with the Kreugers over a common property line that had escalated into a shoot-out at the Roadhouse four years before, and a Jeppsen sister named Bonnie who had aced a Krueger out of the postmistress‘s job, the Jeppsens generally tended to stay down on the homestead. Kate knew them by sight, and because of Bernie‘s bitter comments about being deprived of a potential starting forward for the Kanuyaq Kings she knew that Petey had been homeschooled, but that was about it. You should have—