She heard it,too. Send him in. He held the jacket out in front of him,staring at it as if his son had just vanished from inside of it. There were no platitudes adequate, no apology that could suffice.
CHAPTER 19They traced the call to a phone booth outside the Suds Your Duds laundrysixty-five miles away in the small, quiet town of St. But you were inside the arena, Mitch said. Are you saying we should feel sorry for someone like Leslie Sewek? Paige asked with perfect indignity. Crouched low in the shadows at the head of the stairs, he hada clear view of Fletcher, and through the spindly carved balusters ofthe railing he could see the vast open space beyond the balcony.
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