Okay, maybe I could tell her that I’d seen a black SUV cruising up the street, that it looked like a very mean SUV, just like the one used by those guys who—

I was going to sound like a crazy person.

“I guess you can have the car,” I said. “I’ve just got a lot on my mind. It’s this story I’ve been working on, and I guess it’s got my danger radar working overtime.”

“Yeah, like we could tell the difference,” Angie said, sitting down. “But Dad, everything is okay. Honestly. You just need to chill.”

“I took the car into Otto today,” I said. “I think he’s fixed the starting problem. I haven’t had any trouble with it since he worked on it. But if you have any problems, call me.”

“Terrific,” Angie said. “Oh, and I need five dollars for parking.”

“Hold on, pardner,” I said. “There’s no way you’re getting parking money out of me. Not now that I know what I know.”

“Aw, come on, Dad. They may have closed off the walkway. I might actually need to pay to park this time.” Pleading.

“You showed Dad the secret way out?” Paul asked.

“I don’t know what I was thinking,” Angie said.

“What a dope.”

I wasn’t denying her the money on principle alone. By not giving her the five dollars, it was pretty much guaranteed that she’d sneak out of the Mackenzie grounds by using the route she’d showed me the day before. Which meant she’d be pulling out onto Edwards Street.

I could wait for her there.

If her lecture started at 8:30 P.M., as the note on the fridge calendar seemed to indicate, it would let out around 9:30. I could be in position, around 9:15, making sure, just one last time, that Trevor was no longer following her around.

And if he was, even after my chat with him, I’d have to think of something even more drastic. Maybe even a call to Detective Trimble.

“So, you doing anything after your lecture tonight?” I asked.

“Maybe,” said Angie. “Might see some friends.”

“Hey,” I said, like I’d just remembered something, “you ever keep in touch with any of your friends in Oakwood?”

Angie gave me a look that seemed to suggest a bad smell was coming off me. “God, no. I don’t keep in touch with anyone from out there.”

I nodded. “I thought you kept in touch with some of your Oakwood friends. You did do two years of high school there.”

“No, Dad.”

“How about other than students? You keep in touch with anyone from out there?”

“Dad, when would I even get out there?”

“You don’t actually have to go out there. You could talk, in one of your chat huts.”

Paul and Angie looked at each other. “Chat huts?” they said.

“Rooms. Chat rooms. You know what I mean.”