“If only ignorance was an excuse. The hell are you doing out here anyway?” (And here, with a cold jolt, Joel remembered something else he’d forgotten for a decade.) “Why ain’t you out there with the other boys?”

“I was taking a walk, sir.”

Above them, another car pulled into the park. Grissom heard it too. He flicked off the light.

It was Troy. At last. Joel had spent enough hours in that truck to know the sound of its engine even with panic ringing in his ears. The truck rumbled to a stop above them, idled for a moment—just long enough, Joel later thought, for Troy to recognize what was happening in the gully beneath his headlights—and turned away.

The noise of the truck’s tires seemed to recede for an age.

The deputy clicked on the light again and laughed. “You must be so lonely out here all on your own.”

Joel struggled to breathe. He heard the roar of Troy’s engine when it returned to the highway, its eager rattle as Troy climbed from second gear to third to fourth. Joel thought of Troy’s hand falling from the truck’s stick and coming to rest on his thigh.

The engine fading, endlessly fading.

“I was actually about to leave, Officer.”

Joel took a step forward. Grissom held up a pale, fleshy palm. “You’re in quite a hurry.”

“It’s cold, sir.”

“Hence my confusion as to why you’re down here.” The man’s nose flared. “Are you familiar with the concept of loitering with intent?”

“No, sir.”

“It’s an arrestable offense.”

“But I haven’t hurt anyone.”

“Well, you’ve certainly inconvenienced me.” Grissom sucked spit between his teeth, deliberated. He lowered his voice. “Perhaps we could come to an understanding, you and me. An exchange. Would you like that, son?”

“I—I left my wallet in the car.” Leaving aside the fact he was broke, Joel wasn’t sure if this was how adults negotiated a bribe. Was there some sort of signal, something he should be doing with his eyes?

But Grissom only shook his head. “I don’t want your money, son.”

Time thickened and stopped and started sluggishly again.

The deputy stood there a long time, blocking the stairs, muttering something to himself, a whole little conversation Joel couldn’t catch. Finally Grissom straightened his uniform, nodded to Joel and said very calmly, “If you move one step they’ll find you in five pieces.”

Grissom hustled up the steps. When he reached the top, Joel heard the sound of a car’s trunk opening, a distant rustle of fabric, a zipper unfastening. Joel stared across the gully at the thorns that blocked the path out of there. They whispered in the dark.

Like a tape rewinding, all the sounds from above played back in reverse. The fat deputy returned to where he’d stood a moment before. He held a boxy camera in one hand. His other hand was draped over the gun on his hip.

“I think we might have a solution here for all parties involved.” Grissom adjusted the camera, raised it to his eye, clicked the shutter. Joel was blinded, briefly, by the flash. “Take off your shirt.”