Page 33 of The Outsider

She disappeared into the van, and it shook as she moved around inside. He decided that he wasn’t going to wait.

He took a step up into the van and looked around.

It was dilapidated. A threadbare mattress on the floor in the back. There was a dresser that looked like it was bolted down to the floor, and on top of it, there were some bins. He looked down inside and was surprised to see... books.

He reached inside and took one out.

Rich Dad Poor Dad.

Then he picked up the one under that one.

The Seven Habits of Highly Effective People.

He kept surfing through the stack.The Four Agreements, The Subtle Art of Not Giving a...

It was full of self-help books.

He just stood there staring at the books, not quite able to make sense of them.

She turned and gave him a furious look. “Why are you digging through my stuff?”

“I’m not trying to be nosy.” Except he was.

“Well, you do a great impression of someone who is. Besides you’re like... a detective. It’s your job to be nosy.”

“I’m not a detective any more than I’m a sheriff.”

“Whatever, Sheriff,” she said, waving her hand. “That’s all splitting hairs to me.”

“Do you want to bring your books back with you?” he asked, ignoring her attitude.

She looked uncomfortable. “I don’t care. I could.”

“Where did you get them?”

She shrugged. “There are little free libraries everywhere these days. I always stop and look. Don’t look free shit in the mouth, I mean, right? So, I just take whatever seems... you know, not terribly boring.”

Mostly nonfiction, he saw. There was also a worn copy ofAnne of Green Gables,Oliver Twist—that made him chuckle—and a romance novel.“The Wolf and the Dove,”he read.

Her cheeks went pink. “I haven’t read that.”

She was lying. “Like I said, I grab whatever crap,” she said. “It’s free. And the nights are long. I don’t have Wi-Fi.”

She didn’t. It struck him then, how odd it must be. To be twenty-three, to not have a cell phone. To not be on the Internet. That hadn’t been his experience of being twenty-three; it had been ten years ago, after all. But even he had marginal connections to technology.

“Let’s bring your books,” he said.

He grabbed the whole crate and carried it back to his truck.

She had an armful of clothes when she came out.

“They need to be washed,” she said.

“As you already know, I have a washer and dryer.”

“Thanks,” she said.

She didn’t ask why he was doing it. She didn’t act overly hostile. It was kind of weird. All things considered.