Page 28 of Nobody's Fool

“My name is Sami Kierce,” I say. I hold up my phone with the photo I took of the gate blocking Maybe Anna’s driveway. “Could you tell me who lives here?”

Sometimes you try subtle. Sometimes you just dive right in.

The girls all share a glance, but the convertible’s driver keeps her eyes on mine.

“Are you a cop, Sami Kierce?” she asks.

“Used to be.”

“Why aren’t you one anymore?”

“Got thrown off the force.”

Again the other girls turn their heads and mutter. They are almost background noise now. It’s just the driver and me.

“Why do you want to know who lives there?” she asks.

“More than twenty years ago, when I was probably around your age, I fell hard for a girl when I was backpacking through southern Spain.”

“Like a summer romance?” one of the girls says.

“Exactly like that,” I reply.

The other two girls say “aww.” The driver keeps her eyes on me.

I continue: “Anyway, like I said, I fell for a girl in Spain. Up until last night, I thought she was dead.”

“What happened last night?” Driver Girl asks.

“She showed up at a class I was teaching in the city. Then she bolted out when I spotted her. I followed her back here, but she disappeared behind that gate. I tried to get in, but her security guys threw me out.”

“Oh, that’s sweet,” another girl—the other three all seem to be one mass to me now—says. They all stare up at me with classic doe-in-the headlights expressions. They are engaged, paying attention, wanting to know more.

That’s the thing about truth—it has its own unmistakable odor. You can smell truth. Authenticity can disarm the opposition.

“Wait,” Driver Girl says, “how do you not know the name of your old girlfriend?”

“She said it was Anna.”

“But you don’t believe that?”

I shrug.

“Are you sure it’s the same girl?”

“I guess I can’t be. It’s been over twenty years. She’s changed a lot.”

“But?”

“I’m pretty sure it’s her. But if I’m wrong, there’s only one way to find out.”

“This is so weird,” one of the girls says.

“Kind of stalkerish too.”

“Maybe she was, I don’t know, ghosting him?”

“Then why come to his class?”

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