“I get tired of that, all the time being told I’m too innocent, or too nice, or too retarded, or whatever it is, to know what’s going on,” Billy flashed. “Like believing in Jesus, and wanting to do good in the world, automatically makes you an idiot. So—just to show you I’m not all that nice, I decided to find out what Bron was up to with Pat. There’s a closet in Pat’s room that connects to the next room—it used to be a big office suite or something, with a john or something in between the two rooms, but, anyway, I went in there, in the closet, and I heard the whole thing, Bron saying he needed a hundred grand for April, Pat laughing in this nasty way, ‘You been hanging around the Kid too much if you think his family will part with one red cent for your brat.’

“Then I guess Bron showed him the frog picture, and Pat said, that proved jack shit—” Billy turned crimson as he repeated the phrase; he looked at me fleetingly to see whether I was shocked. “And Bron said, oh, he had a recording of it all, on account of Marcena Love had been with him when Pat asked him to do the dirty work, and she had everything on tape, she recorded everybody’s conversations so she’d have an accurate record. So then Pat told him to wait outside for a minute. And he made a phone call and repeated the conversation, and then he called Bron back in and said, okay, he thought he could help him out after all. He said Bron should bring the truck over to Fly the Flag after he made his Crown Point drop-off—that he wanted to inspect that first load of sheets Zamar had made to see if they could be salvaged, and someone from the family would be there with a check, that it couldn’t be, like, out in public, because the family didn’t want to be involved. So I decided to go to Fly the Flag and see who showed up from the family.”

“Where was Josie while all this was going on?” I asked.

“Oh, I was waiting in the Miata.” It was the first time Josie had spoken—it was almost as though she hadn’t been there.

“In the Miata? It’s a tiny two-seater!”

“We had the top down.” Josie’s eyes were shining with pleasure at the memory. “I crouched behind the seats. It was so fun, I loved it.”

On a cold November afternoon, yes, fifteen, close to death and to love at the same moment—that was fun.

“How did Marcena get into the car, then?” I asked, trying to figure out how all these people had ended up together.