That is the difference between them. Her dad is a cop, not a detective; they are not always the same thing, and this has been a divide between them since she hung up her first hand-drawn poster offering to help her classmates find their missing pets and recover stolen lunch money. A cop wants to keep the peace, above all else, even if that sometimes means ignoring things happening out of their line of sight. A detective, on the other hand, wants answers, even if that means disturbing the peace and digging up graves.

He rubs his eyes, then gets up from his chair.

“Well, I tried,” he says. He takes Pearl’s leash off a hook by the door. “I should get going before it’s too late. Take care of your mom, please.”

“Dad — ”

His voice rises. “Can you at least do that, Carrie?”

“Sure,” she says quietly. “Of course.”

He tries to smile at her. “Thank you.”

He walks Pearl out the front door. He closes it carefully, so that it doesn’t slam.

Carrie sits for a moment longer. She will remember this moment forever. She remembers them all, of course. But this one will always hurt the most.

14

I Never Believed in Prophecies

Eric gets as far as the front desk of the hotel before he remembers he already maxed out his credit card on the rental car. He opens his wallet and counts the bills. He thinks of old cartoons where a character would do that and a moth would fly out. He’s not quite that broke, but he’s down to his last hundred bucks.

Everything he knows about magic, and he still hasn’t mastered the art of turning lead into gold.

“How much for the night?” he asks the teenaged desk clerk.

“Don’t worry about it,” Danny says, only a step or two behind him. “Can we get a room for my friend here? I’ll cover it.”

“Don’t do me any favors,” Eric says, wondering why he can’t just shut up and take the peace offering.

“No, I owe you,” Danny says. “I was almost the biggest asshole there tonight, but you saved me.”

And there it is. With Danny there’s always a kick to the teeth, so you know how much smarter he is.

“You know, maybe I should have let the lynch mob at the bar have you.”

“Then who would have paid for your room?”

The clerk ignores their conversation — she probably gets a lot of practice — and asks Danny for his credit card. Danny slaps down a black AmEx.

Eric’s mouth goes a little dry, thinking of the money behind that flat rectangle of plastic. He’s seen them in the casinos before, but never up close.

Something occurs to Eric. “Why aren’t you staying at your dad’s place?”

“Walking into haunted houses was always your deal, not mine.”

“I thought you didn’t believe in ghosts.”