Page 121 of The Instruments of Darkness

She lifted her right hand and moved her thumb and forefinger, lending the illusion of movement to the tattoo.

“Tweet-tweet,” she said. “I’ll get you that coffee to go.”

THE TOPSHAM FAIR MALL had a Renys, so I set Angel and Louis loose in it while I headed to Panera. Angel and Louis found Renys fascinating because it resembled a store from the middle of the last century, somewhere that would clothe you, feed you, and even equip you for the wilderness before sending you on your way with a smile and a lobster fridge magnet that you didn’t need but cost only ninety-nine cents, so what the hell.

Beth Witham entered Panera at about 2:15 p.m. She’d changed her T-shirt and dropped a fleece jacket over it, but the cap remained in place. I’d taken a seat by the window where we wouldn’t be overheard, and substituted the cup of Kopper Kettle coffee with an iced tea that I didn’t want. I offered to get Beth something, but she said she was good. She removed her jacket and placed it on the chair beside her.

“Do you run?” I asked.

“I have an old treadmill and some gym equipment in the garage at home, but I’m so tired lately that I don’t have the energy to do more than a couple hours a week.”

“That’s more than a lot of others do.”

“But less than I used to. I got the virus right at the start of that whole mess and haven’t felt the same since. I’m weary, and my stomach hurts. My doctor looked at me blankly when I told him, so I don’t waste my money on him anymore. I’m not sure he even graduated med school, not unless he paid a bribe. But you’re not a doctor, so what can you do about it, right?”

“I can sympathize.”

“That’ll have to do, won’t it? We may as well get started, for what it’s worth. Ask your questions.”

“I’m interested in your ex-boyfriend, Stephen Clark.”

“Who told you that he and I used to be together?”

“A friend of a friend. Six degrees of separation falls to three in this state.”

“Can’t deny what’s true,” she said, “much as I’d like to when it comes to Stephen. What did you hear? Unless you’re interviewing all his ex-girlfriends, in which case I might feel less special.”

“Does he have a lot of exes?”

“A few. He was a good-looking guy. Still is, judging by what I’ve seen of him lately on TV. He also wanted to better himself, which made him stand out from the rest of the boys I went to school with. Their ambitions didn’t amount to more than a new truck every third year and manual labor that paid double on weekends.”

She took in the mall parking lot. She, too, had been ambitious, certainly for more than she currently had. Now, like so many people, she was holding down two jobs and worrying about getting sick.

“On the other hand—” she resumed.

“There’s always another hand.”

“Yeah,” she said, “sometimes one that packs a punch.”

“Was he violent toward you?”

“Is that what you were told?”

“Isn’t that what you were implying?”

“How many questions do you think you’ve asked in your life?”

“More than I’ve heard answered, but that’s true for all of us.”

“A philosopher too,” she said. “My, my.”

I waited. It bore repeating: I was good at waiting.

“Have you met Stephen?” she asked finally.

“I have.”

“Did he put up a good front?”

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