Thomas Blackhorse's Arc

Chapter 4 of 17

Thomas sat in his Jeep two blocks from Martin Talltree's house and watched the windows. The house looked exactly like the man who lived in it: neat porch, straight shutters, a red door lit soft from inside. A pickup Thomas didn't know sat at the curb. Two shapes moved behind the front curtains. Thomas counted them again. Not one silhouette. Two. He thought about Maria's report, buried eight years. He thought about the gray Buick from last week. Talltree had said alone. If someone else was in that house, Talltree would freeze the second Thomas walked in. One glimpse of a stranger's face and the old man would swallow the name for good. His phone buzzed. A text from the school janitor's number. He had left his card on her cart that morning, on a hunch. Come back to the school. Found something in the old locker. C. Thomas looked at the red door. He looked at the phone. He drove. Carmen Ruiz met him at the side entrance with her key ring already out. The mopping woman from that morning, the one who had watched him too long by the battered green locker at the end of the hall. She was the janitor who had learned every inch of this building after the last one left for Yuma. "I wasn't snooping," she said. "The hinge sticks. I was fixing it." She walked him down the dark hall. The locker stood alone, scratched, its dial hanging loose. She swung the door open. Inside, stuck to the roof with a hard pink wad of gum, was a folded square of paper, yellowed at the creases. Thomas worked it free. He opened it under her flashlight. I'm still here. Two words, in a child's careful hand. No name. No date. "Whose locker was this?" Thomas asked. "Nobody's, officially. Not for years." Carmen kept her voice low. "But I checked the old assignment book in the office. Eight years back, it belonged to the Delgado girl." Thomas felt the floor tilt one degree. The girl had left a message. Somebody had found it and left it. Somebody had known. His phone buzzed again. Martin Talltree. Where are you. He is here now. Come or don't. Thomas stared at the screen. He. Talltree had brought the witness to the house himself. The second silhouette. Not a trap. A gift Thomas had almost walked away from. He was too late. He knew it before he typed the reply. By the time he crossed town, the pickup would be gone, and Talltree would have his answer about whether Thomas could be trusted to show. He folded the note into his shirt pocket. He looked at Carmen. "Lock this back up," he said. "Tell no one. I'll be back tomorrow." He walked out with the girl's two words against his chest and a name he had not earned.