I wanted her out of the house as quickly as possible. I didn’t know where Rick had gone, or whether he planned to come back. Given that he’d left empty-handed, and with a nasty bump on the head, it seemed logical to assume that he might return to get what he’d come for, and exact a bit of revenge. When I glanced outside I saw that the police car was still sitting there, Officer Greslow making some notes with the inside dome light on. As long as she was there, I figured we were safe from another visit.

I made sure the patio door was locked, as well as the side and garage doors. And while I waited for Angie to pack her things and Paul’s, I slid the bolt on the front door.

Nothing was making any sense. When I’d handed Rick those two envelopes of what I now knew to be counterfeit money, he was dumbstruck. The cash, it was obvious now, was not what he had come for.

There had to be something else in the purse.

“Okay,” said Angie. “I’m ready.” She had her own backpack slung over her shoulder packed with her things, and jammed under her arms were Paul’s pillows and comforter, and a plastic bag filled with his toiletry items.

“Where’s his backpack?” I asked, wondering why she hadn’t used that instead of a plastic bag.

“It’s already jammed with his crap. I wasn’t reaching into it and taking anything out. He’ll probably come by in the morning before he goes to school anyway to get his school stuff. It’s on the way.”

Before I unlocked the front door, I looked out the window to make sure no one was lurking there. “What are you doing, Dad?” Angie asked. The police car’s brake lights came on as the car was shifted into drive, and then it pulled away slowly from the curb.

I opened the door. “Come on, quickly,” I said, locking the door after Angie and hustling her to my old Civic. We tossed everything into the back seat, not wanting to soil Paul’s linens with any potentially oily messes in the trunk.

Once the car doors were closed, I locked mine and ordered Angie to do the same. “What’s with you tonight?” she asked. “You’re more paranoid than usual.”

I decided to tell her something that, while not addressing the issue directly, was still true. “I guess I’m on edge. Your mom phoned from work tonight, said there was a murder not too far from here.”

“Really? Another murder? That’s like, what, two in a week? In the suburbs, Dad? You told us these things never happened in the suburbs.”

I ignored that. “Some woman was found dead in a garage. Beaten to death.”