“No hurry,” Liam said. “Nothingimportant.” He felt the old fascination, the almost hypnotic curiosity to see just how far he could push things before someone finally shut him down. “I was just being an asshole. Reckless. Someone could have gotten hurt. I should get a ticket, absolutely. I’ll just pay it—won’t contest it or anything.”
“Well… I don’t think I’d call it ‘reckless,’ really, but—”
“Have you got kids?” Of coursethe guy would have kids. He was Liam’s age, give or take a couple years, and lived in North Falls. He’d have kids. Probably two, maybe three. “What if they’d been in one of those other cars? What if I’d lost control, swerved into them, driven them off the road?”
And finally, the cop was writing. “You sound like you understand how serious it was,” he said, his pen working as he spoke, “so I’mgoing to bump it down a little. But you do need to slow down, Liam. I’m sure you’re a good driver, and it’s a really nice car, but this ain’t the Autobahn.”
“Right,” Liam agreed. “I’ll slow down.” And then, almost absently, he said, “Whose funeral did you think I was going to?”
“Oh, sorry. I guess you might not know him, really. Terry Franks, the guy who owned the antique store? Passed awayon Saturday—heart attack. Died at work, with all that stuff he loved so much, so—that’s good, right? If he had to go, that’s where he’d have wanted to do it.”
Terry Franks. Dead. No, he and Liam hadn’t been close, but—damn it.
“Liam?” the cop prompted, and he waved the ticket in the air between them. “Sorry about this. But, you know, it’s my job….”
“It’s fine.” Liam took the slip of paper andset it on the passenger seat. “No problem. But—the funeral, for Terry. Do you know what time it was at? Could I still make it?”
The cop checked his watch. “Funeral at two thirty and you’ve still got an hour of driving. So, no, you’d be too late. But I think they’re burying him right after, so you could make it to the graveside, probably.”
It made no sense. Terry hadn’t really been a friend,and the graveside part of the funeral was generally much more intimate than the church service. Liam had no business even thinking about attending.
But—he’d been heading for North Falls anyway, or at least in that general direction. So he waited for the cop to pull away, then rejoined traffic himself and kept driving.
Terry Franks. He’d had such a small life, as far as Liam knew. No grand adventures,no remarkable achievements. The local paper would carry his obituary, but that would be all. No larger notice would be taken of his passing, just as no larger notice had been taken of his life.
But Liam kept driving, and when he finally made it to the North Falls town sign, instead of turning right and looping back to New York City like he usually did, he continued straight on and then turnedleft toward the cemetery.
Tall trees just beginning to leaf out. Row upon row of gravestones, all shapes and sizes. And over in the corner, too far away for faces to be distinguishable, a small group in dark clothes, standing next to a hearse.
Liam had the sense, the decency, to keep his ass in the car where it belonged. He wasn’t going to push into other people’s grief, not when the most hefelt was a vague sense of regret, of dismay at wasted potential. Terry could have done so much more with his life, but he hadn’t. He’d hidden himself away in North Falls, curated relics from a bygone age rather than creating anything himself, and left any talents he might have to molder, unknown and unappreciated.
No, Liam wasn’t really there for Terry. And the one hewasthere for? More thanfifteen years ago, he’d told Liam to fuck off and leave him alone. He’d said he never wanted to see Liam again, and Liam had done his best to oblige. It was maybe the one decent thing he’d ever managed to do for Ben, and he wasn’t going screw it up now by making a cameo at an acquaintance’s funeral.
So he stayed in the car, and he watched as the group stood, clustered, and eventually broke apart.He could recognize Ben even without seeing his face, just in the easy movements, the slight stoop to his shoulders as he spoke to the other mourners, all of whom were at least half a head shorter.
Liam stayed and watched as the crowd wandered back to their cars. Some visited other graves, and a couple glanced over toward the Mercedes. But Liam wasn’t interested in any of them, and Ben was walkingaway, beside an older man—his uncle Calvin, probably, who’d always been close to Terry.
Liam waited until Ben and Calvin were folded into the limo and driving away, taking the back way into town, the way thatdidn’tsend them past Liam’s parked car.
He’d gotten away with his little excursion, and that was his indulgence for the day. For the week or even the month, really. He needed to get backto the city, back to his life—he needed to stop running away and figure out what the hell he was going to do about work, about the humiliation that had just been heaped on him. He needed tofixthings.
Yeah, that was the plan. But when he pushed the ignition button, nothing happened. What the hell? He ran over it all again: foot on brake, car in Park, hit the button. Nothing. Goddammit, whatwas the point of having fancy technology if it didn’t work?
He pried the cover off the ignition and inserted the stubby little key, turned it, and—nothing. No deep, powerful rumble, just the cheerful birdsong coming from outside his open window.
Another try… and another failure. Nothing was happening.
He got a little desperate, tried all the tricks he could think of, swore quite a bit, andfinally slumped back into his seat, defeated. A few deep breaths, and then he pulled out his phone. He was fine. He had this covered. It was a nuisance, not a damn tragedy.
And that was the attitude he needed to have toward the issues at work, he reflected as he leaned against the hood of the car and waited for AAA to show up. Sneaky little Allison Sutcliffe, slipping in and stealing his project?Whatever. Not a big deal. He didn’t give a shit, really. She was a blip, a tiny, insignificant bump in the smooth road of his career. He had the record, the contacts, the reputation, and she was just— McTighe had thrown her a bone, that was all. The old man was all about continuity and building talent from within the firm, and ofcoursehe’d need to start encouraging new people, because thereneeded to be strong people below Liam when he took his final, inevitable step to the next level.
Okay. That was all fine. He’d overreacted a little, but he’d done it in private, so it was no big deal. And the car was no big deal. Maybe for someone else, someone without his financial stability and resources, this would be an issue. But for him? Just a little blip.
And half an hour later the towtruck showed up, coming down the road from the direction of the highway. Hopefully the driver could take a quick look and do some… some mechanic trick, or something and fix it right then and there. If not, he could tow the vehicle to town, Liam would arrange a rental, and everything would go back to normal.
The truck pulled up behind him, the door opened, and a burly man climbed out. After aboutthree steps toward Liam, he froze and stared. Liam stared right back.
“What the fuck?” the man demanded.
