—For a couple of years when I was a kid, Duchess confirmed.
Then he sat up a little in his seat and began looking around with heightened interest.
—Hey, he said to Emmett after a moment. Can we swing by? I’d love to get a look at the place. You know, for old times’ sake.
—Duchess . . .
—Oh, come on. Please? I know you said you wanted to be in Omaha by eight, but it seems like we’ve been making pretty good time.
—We’re twelve minutes ahead of schedule, said Billy after looking at his surplus watch.
—There. See?
—All right, said Emmett. We can swing by. But just for a look.
—That’s all I’m asking.
When they reached the edge of the city, Duchess took over the navigation, nodding at the passing landmarks.
—Yes. Yes. Yes. There! Take that left by the fire station.
Emmett took the left, which led into a residential neighborhood with fine houses on nicely groomed lots. After a few miles, they passed a high-steepled church and a park.
—You take that next right, said Duchess.
The right led them onto a wide, curving road interspersed with trees.
—Pull over up there.
Emmett pulled over.
They were at the bottom of a grassy hill on the top of which was a large stone building. Three stories high with turrets on either end, it looked like a manor.
—Was this your house? asked Billy.
—No, said Duchess with a laugh. It’s a school of sorts.
—A boarding school? asked Woolly.
—More or less.
For a moment they all admired its grandeur, then Duchess turned to Emmett.
—Can I go in?
—For what?
—To say hi.
—Duchess, it’s six thirty in the morning.
—If no one’s up, I’ll leave a note. They’ll get a kick out of it.
—A note for your teachers? asked Billy.
—Exactly. A note for my teachers. What do you say, Emmett. It’ll only take a few minutes. Five minutes tops.
Emmett glanced at the clock in the dash.
—All right, he said. Five minutes.
Grabbing the book bag at his feet, Duchess climbed out of the car and jogged up the hill toward the building.
In the back seat, Billy began explaining to Woolly why he and Emmett needed to be in San Francisco by the Fourth of July.
Turning off the engine, Emmett stared through the windshield, wishing he had a cigarette.
Duchess’s five minutes came and went.
Then another five.
Shaking his head, Emmett chastised himself for letting Duchess go into the building. No one drops in anywhere for five minutes, whatever the time of day. Certainly no one who liked to talk as much as Duchess.
Emmett got out of the car and walked around to the passenger side. Leaning against the door, he looked up at the school, noting that it was made from the same red limestone that they had used to build the courthouse in Morgen. The stone probably came from one of the quarries in Cass County. In the late 1800s, it had been used to build city halls, libraries, and courthouses in every town for two hundred miles. Some of the buildings were so similar in appearance that when you went from one town to the next it felt like you hadn’t gone anywhere at all.
Even so, there was something that didn’t seem quite right about this building. It took Emmett a few minutes to realize that what was odd was that there wasn’t a prominent entrance. Whether it had originally been designed as a manor house or school, a building this grand would have had a fitting approach. There would have been a tree-lined drive leading up to an impressive front door.
It occurred to Emmett that they must be parked at the back of the building. But why hadn’t Duchess directed them to drive up to the front?
And why had he taken the book bag?
—I’ll be right back, he said to Billy and Woolly.
—Okay, they replied, without looking up from Billy’s map.
Climbing the hill, Emmett made his way toward a door that was in the center of the building. As he walked, he was feeling a growing sense of irritation, almost looking forward to the dressing down he would be giving Duchess once he found him. Telling him, in no uncertain terms, that they didn’t have time for this sort of nonsense. That his uninvited appearance was already an imposition and that the trip to Omaha was taking them two and a half hours out of their way. Five hours when you accounted for there and back. But these thoughts went out of Emmett’s head as soon as he saw the broken pane—the one closest to the doorknob. Easing the door open, Emmett stepped inside, shards of glass crunching under the soles of his boots.