If you spurn my gift of food, I said, I will give you the finger. He raised an eyebrow, and I handed him Deb’s package. Can I have half an hour of your time before lunch?

He looked at the small box. I don’t think I want to open this on an empty stomach, do I? he said.

Well then, how about a doughnut?

It took more than half an hour, but by the time Vince left for lunch we had learned that there was nothing to learn from Kyle’s finger. The cut was extremely clean and professional, done with a very sharp instrument that left no trace behind in the wound. There was nothing under the fingernail except a little dirt that could have come from anywhere. I removed the ring, but we found no threads or hairs or telltale fabric swatches, and Kyle had somehow failed to etch an address or phone number onto the inside of the ring. Kyle’s blood type was AB positive.

I put the finger into cold storage, and slipped the ring into my pocket. That wasn’t exactly standard procedure, but I was fairly sure that Deborah would want it if we didn’t get Kyle back. As it was, it looked like if we did get him back it would be by messenger, one piece at a time. Of course, I’m not a sentimental person, but that didn’t seem like something that would warm her heart.

By now I was very tired indeed, and since Debs hadn’t called yet I decided that I was well within my rights to head for home and take a nap. The afternoon rain started as I climbed into my car. I shot straight down LeJeune in the relatively light traffic and got home after being screamed at only one time, which was a new record. I dashed in through the rain and found Deborah gone. She had scribbled a note on a Post-it saying she would call later. I was relieved, since I had not been looking forward to sleeping on my half-size couch. I crawled right into my own bed and slept without interruption until a little after six o’clock in the evening.

Naturally, even the mighty machine that is my body needs a certain amount of maintenance, and when I sat up in bed I felt very much in need of an oil change. The long night with so little sleep, the missed breakfast, the tension and suspense of trying to think of something besides There there to say to Deborah—all these things had taken their toll. I felt as though someone had snuck in and packed my head with beach sand, even including the bottle caps and cigarette butts.