I’d already read the Wikipedia article on the Sunrise Slayer, and knew that he’d died there a few years ago, at the age of sixty-seven. But I wondered if the daughter still lived in the area.
I put the book back on the shelf when I was done with it, making sure to slide it in its correct alphabetical slot. Then I headed out into the sunshine, grateful again that I’d made it the whole time without having to interact with Alison. It wasn’t that I was planning to avoid her for the entire rest of the summer... but also, that plan didn’t sound too bad.
I climbed into my Camry and turned the key. Nothing. I wiggled the steering wheel, making sure it hadn’t locked—the carwas old, and sometimes had weird quirks like that. Turned the key again.
Still nothing.
“Fuck,”I said.
It had been raining on the way to the library. One of those quick Florida sun-showers that made you turn on your wipers and lights to drive a couple miles, and then disappeared just as quickly. Only I hadn’t remembered to turnoffthe lights when I pulled into the library parking lot.
It was a Monday, which meant Conner would be at work. Not that I wanted to bother him. Shani was also probably working on one of her online classes or at the hospital, and I realized I’d never actually programmed her number into my phone.
I considered my options. I’d let my roadside assistance program lapse, so that was out. I could use my phone to search for a nearby auto shop, and hope that one was close enough for me to walk to. But then what was I supposed to do—buy a whole new battery and put it in myself? I’d need at least a half hour on YouTube University to figure that one out, and then I’d probably kill my phone battery, too.
I thought of Sam suddenly, inexplicably. Ever since Conner had told me that Sam found meinteresting, my mind couldn’t stop circling back to my neighbor. And this time it was definitely less in ashould I be worried or nahway and more in abut what does he mean by “interesting”way. If I had his number, I would be tempted to call him right now. Lucky for my dignity I didn’t.
There was only one other thing I could think of, and I really, really didn’t want to do it.
Alison wasn’t behind the counter when I walked in, so I stoodby the front, trying to look like I was engrossed by the colorful flyers and bookmarks advertising library services. Down in the slot for returns, I could still see my book. Now that I’d read more about the Sunrise Slayer—including the surprising reveal about his daughter’s role in getting him caught—I actually wanted to revisit the greasy-covered grammatical nightmare. The slot was just big enough to fit my hand in up to my wrist, and I reached in, trying to see if I could flip the book up with my fingers enough to wedge it back out.
“That’s supposed to be a one-way system,” Alison said from above me, her voice amused.
I yanked my hand back so fast that I scraped the top of my wrist. “I dropped my book in there by accident,” I said. “I was just trying to see if I could get it back out.”
“We’re really not supposed to do this,” Alison said, but she reached in to retrieve my book and handed it to me. “I can see your reading tastes haven’t changed.”
She smiled at me, as though I hadn’t been a complete weirdo the last time I was in here—and this time, too, although hopefully she hadn’t clocked me coming in earlier. Her bright red lipstick and penguin-dotted button-up made her seem like a cross between Taylor Swift and a kindergarten teacher.
“Sorry,” she said, pulling a face. “I normally try not to comment on patrons’ items in a way that might come across as judgmental. I didn’t mean it like that. Just that I remember you reading a lot of crime stuff back in high school.”
“My dad died,” I blurted.
I hadn’t meant to say it like that, so baldly and out of nowhere. But even having it out in the open, not having to worry that she’dfind out somehow and then wonder why I hadn’t told her, was a relief. Her face crumpled into the expected expression of sympathy, and I rushed to provide more context.
“It was a heart attack,” I said. “At the beginning of this year. So it was pretty sudden... I’m getting his house ready to sell and taking care of a few things.”
“Oh my god,” Alison said. “I’m so sorry. I had no idea.”
“It’s okay.”
There was an awkward silence. I’d been trying to conveyIt’s okay that you didn’t know, but now I worried that it came across more likeIt’s okay that he died. And that’s not what I meant at all, but also I wanted to conveyI’m okay, I don’t need pity or sympathy, and in general it was exhausting, needing words to do more work than I was willing to put into them.
Alison glanced at her watch, a slim band that looked elegant until you saw the Mickey Mouse in the center of it, his gloved hands pointing to tell the time. “I can take a fifteen-minute break,” she said. “If you wanted to catch up.”
I already knew I wasn’t going to ask her to help me with my car.
“Okay,” I said. That word again.
?THE LIBRARY OVERLOOKEDa small, man-made lake with a bridge out to a small wooden gazebo. Alison and I ended up walking there on her break, since there wasn’t enough time to go off-site.
“If I stay in the building, they’ll loop me into something,” she said. “So I often come out here when I need a breather.”
“Was this here when we were kids?” If it was, I didn’t remember it.
“I think they built the gazebo just after you moved. It used to betheplace to go in high school to get high or make out.” She gave me a rueful smile. “Not that I did much of either.”
Neither had I. I’d spent my first two years of high school in a haze of not doing schoolwork and then lying about it, my sleep schedule so messed up that I’d tried to convince my mother to just let me nap right after school and then wake up at two a.m., like a vampire.I’ll never see you!she’d said to me in the middle of a particularly fierce argument.That’s the point!I’d yelled back.