“Weird dumb luck, I know, it’s embarrassing, and I’m sorry. I’m a collector and, well, I got thinking I should’ve just emailed you or got books signed in a store, rather than follow you to the park like this.”

“So you did follow us?” Ben said.

“I’m truly sorry. I got carried away, Mr. Grant. That’s why I changed my mind and was leaving, hoping you wouldn’t see me.”

Ben looked into the car, noticed four of his hardcovers on the front seat.

“Those the books?”

“They are.”

“How about I sign them for you, Del, and we’ll call it a day.”

“Oh, would you? That would be great. I’m so sorry.”

“Signed to Del, D-E-L?”

“Yes, that would be fantastic,” the man said, reaching into his car for the books and a ballpoint pen for Ben, who handed Tug’s leash to Emma.

Ben took the books and started signing them on the trunk of the car. At one point Ben dropped the pen and when he bent down to retrieve it the man turned to Emma.

“I’m so sorry,” he said. “Being married to him, you must see all kinds of people?”

Emma saw herself reflected in his dark glasses when she smiled and nodded.

“That’s a nice dog you’ve got. What’s his name?”

“Tug.”

Tug barked.

“Good name,” the man said. “I’m really sorry to intrude like this.”

“All done, Del,” Ben said.

“I can’t thank you enough, Mr. Grant.”

Brockway shook Ben’s hand, then collected the books, got into his car and drove away, leaving Ben, Emma and Tug in the lot.

“That was strange,” Emma said.

“It was. I meet all kinds. I don’t always like it but it comes with the turf.”

Ben secretly glanced at his left palm, where he’d written down the man’s plate number. Then he took Tug’s leash from Emma.

“Let’s go.”

But Emma didn’t move.

Ben stared at her.

All the color was gone from her face.

Fifty-Two

Across the USA
One week ago

Lucy Lavenza looked out at the cities and towns floating by her window of the Greyhound bus.

Since boarding at New York’s bus terminal, she’d been riding with ghosts. She’d also been riding with students, weirdos, drifters and assorted misfits, whom life had discarded. Traveling more than a day now, she’d lost count of the states she’d crossed—New Jersey, Maryland, Delaware, Virginia, North Carolina and South Carolina.

Were they in Georgia, coming up on Atlanta?

At times Lucy’s journey felt like Dante’s descent into the eternal home of the damned, dragging her back to her life in Eternity, tormenting her with thoughts of her mother. The woman was a failure cursed with problems and sins she’d passed to Lucy. It’s the reason Lucy had turned to her friends for sanctuary.