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The Outsider: A Novel (Holly Gibney #1)(90)

Author:Stephen King

“What did you do while he was visiting?”

Marcy smiled. “You speak as though Terry spent huge wallops of time with his father, and that wasn’t the case. His visits were short, no more than an hour or two. Mostly the four of us were together. When Terry was at the Heisman, we hung out at the hotel, and the girls swam in the indoor pool. One day the three of us went to the Art Institute, and one afternoon I took the girls to a Disney matinee. There was a cinema complex close to the hotel. We hit two or maybe three other movies, but that was the whole family. We went to the air force museum as a family, and to the Boonshoft, which is a science museum. The girls loved that. It was your basic family vacation, Detective Anderson, with Terry taking a few hours away to do his filial duty.”

And maybe to steal a van, Ralph thought.

It was possible, Merlin Cassidy and the Maitland family certainly could have been in Dayton at the same time, but it seemed farfetched. Even if that had happened, there was the question of how Terry had gotten the van back to Flint City. Or why he would have bothered. There were plenty of vehicles to be stolen in the FC metro area; Barbara Nearing’s Subaru was a case in point.

“Probably ate out a few times, didn’t you?” Ralph asked.

Howie sat forward at that, but said nothing for the moment.

“We had a fair amount of room service, Sarah and Grace loved it, but sure, we ate out. Assuming the hotel restaurant counts as out.”

“Did you happen to eat at a place called Tommy and Tuppence?”

“No. I’d remember a restaurant with a name like that. We ate at IHOP one night, and I think twice at Cracker Barrel. Why?”

“No reason,” Ralph said.

Howie gave him a smile that said he knew better, but settled back. Alec sat with his arms crossed over his chest, his face expressionless.

“Is that everything?” Marcy asked. “Because I’m tired of this. And I’m tired of you.”

“Did anything out of the ordinary happen while you were in Dayton? Anything at all? One of your daughters getting lost for a little while, Terry saying he’d met an old friend, you meeting an old friend, maybe a package delivery—”

“A flying saucer?” Howie asked. “How about a man in a trenchcoat with a message in code? Or the Rockettes dancing in the parking lot?”

“Not helpful, counselor. Believe it or not, I’m trying to be part of the solution here.”

“There was nothing.” Marcy got up and began collecting coffee cups. “Terry visited his father, we had a nice vacation, we flew home. We didn’t eat at Tommy and whatever it was, and we didn’t steal a van. Now I’d like you to—”

“Daddy got a cut.”

They all turned to the door. Sarah Maitland was standing there, looking pale and wan and much too thin in her jeans and Rangers tee-shirt.

“Sarah, what are you doing down here?” Marcy put the cups on the counter and went to the girl. “I told you and your sister to stay upstairs until we were done talking.”

“Grace is already asleep,” Sarah said. “She was awake last night with more stupid nightmares about the man with straws for eyes. I hope she doesn’t have any tonight. If she wakes up, you should give her a shot of Benadryl.”

“I’m sure she’ll sleep through. Go on, now.”

But Sarah stood her ground. She was looking at Ralph, not with her mother’s dislike and distrust, but with a kind of concentrated curiosity that made Ralph uncomfortable. He held her gaze, but it was difficult.

“My mother says you got my dad killed,” Sarah said. “Is that true?”

“No.” Then the apology came at last, and to his surprise, it was almost effortless. “But I played a part, and for that I’m deeply sorry. I made a mistake I’ll carry with me for the rest of my life.”

“Probably that’s good,” Sarah said. “Probably you deserve to.” And to her mother: “I’ll go upstairs now, but if Grace starts yelling in the middle of the night, I’m going to sleep in her room.”

“Before you go, Sarah, can you tell me about the cut?” Ralph asked.

“It happened when he visited his father,” Sarah said. “A nurse fixed it up right after it happened. She put on that Betadine stuff and a Band-Aid. It was okay. He said it didn’t hurt.”

“Upstairs, you,” Marcy said.

“Okay.” They watched her pad to the stairs in her bare feet. When she got there, she turned back. “That Tommy and Tuppence restaurant was right up the street from our hotel. When we went to the art museum in the rent-a-dent, I saw the sign.”

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