“The thing is,” Thackrey said, “in the beginning, I was staring at the picture, not her, but I ended up looking at her. When she caught me, I asked what she was going to call the picture, and she gave me this look. She said, ‘What makes you think everything has a title?’”

“And that sort of crap was attractive to you?” Russell asked.

“For the first time that night, I saw the way her face changed. Ever notice how the same person can look different? With Elise, if you looked at her once, her face had that dumbbell prettiness, like a cheerleader at a big midwestern college on a Saturday afternoon, where you knew it was the best she would ever look. But if you looked again, her face had this other thing going on. Leaner, grown up, in a way you would never be smart enough to understand. Something French maybe. A little Jeanne Moreau. Isabelle Huppert.”

“Exactly how many whites had you taken that night?” Russell asked.

“That’s just it,” Thackrey said. “I wasn’t high.”

Victor typed for a moment and watched the screen. “Password required,” he said out loud.

“Why don’t you try listening to your boy Coyle’s music instead of your own?” Russell winked. “Go on Facebook. Get his tunes.”

Victor stared at him. Opening Facebook, he found Coyle’s page. “Top band is Kings of Leon.”

“Try ‘Taper Jean Girl,’” Russell said. “Maybe the password’s there.”

Victor typed a line on his keyboard. Then a second and a third. “Okay, genius, let’s try ‘Sex on Fire.’” He tapped his phone and typed again. He stared at the screen and waited.

“After she worked on the painting some more,” Thackrey said, “she put down the tablet and looked at me. She said, ‘You don’t have to talk about the art, you know. It actually makes you seem ordinary.’ She said I reminded her of her father, who she said was a poet. She asked if I had any Ecstasy or Oxy. I offered her a few base, but she said she wanted something that would cause more trouble. It was like whatever play I had wasn’t enough. She didn’t need me or anyone else.”

“We’re getting closer, you and I, aren’t we?” Victor said to his screen.

Russell came to the kitchen counter and stood behind him. He picked up Victor’s phone. “Here, try ‘Use Somebody.’”

Victor listened to the music. He typed in a word. Then a second, a third, a fourth.