“Did anybody see you?” Jeffrey asked.
“Of course. But nobody’s looking for me. I’m invisible. Unlike you—jeez, sorry about your face. Is it broken?” The fresh air seemed to have done him good. Our predicament hadn’t changed any, but I was glad to see Nolan fresh again and no longer angry.
“You knocked a tooth loose,” Jeffrey said.
“Damn. Really sorry about that. It was wrong of me. I shouldn’t’ve done it.” He held out his hand for Jeffrey to shake. Jeffrey hesitated.
“Oh, don’t be a baby,” I said. “Shake his goddamn hand and send him the dental bill later.”
Jeffrey shrugged. They shook hands, and then we went into the main recording room, where there was more space to set up the TV. As I expected, the reception was terrible. The TV had come with rabbit ears, though, and after carrying it around the room from spot to spot, two New York stations finally began to reveal themselves—NBC and ABC—both distorted, but good enough.
Crime dramas on both stations. All that seemed to play on TV anymore, besides reality shows, were crime dramas. For a few minutes we sat on the floor and flipped between stations. We watched the badge-flashing, the interrogations, the rough arrests. At no point, however, were any of these programs interrupted for the real crime in progress. No words at the bottom of the screen informing crime-addicted viewers that an actual girl had gone missing.
“Jeffrey,” I said after a few minutes, “why doesn’t anybody seem to be looking for us? Do you have an explanation?”
“No,” he said. “None.”
“Why don’t you tell us exactly what went down at the Milk-n-Bread,” Nolan said.
Jeffrey watched the screen for another minute, then reached for the TV and muted it. “First of all,” he said, “you guys need to understand how fast it all happened. I’d planned to buy a thing of Tums. I was feeling really ill. And, no, it wasn’t the clams. Listen—Sara only told me about the affair two days ago. She said she had to tell me because … she’s nearly certain the baby’s mine, but … well, you get the idea. So, yeah, I’ve been feeling pretty fucked up. Anyway, there was an old lady in the store, and when she left I looked over at the register and noticed that the cashier and I were the only two people left. And maybe she looked a little like Sara—okay, I can see that now—but it wasn’t anything I thought too hard about. Believe me, I never in my life thought about robbing a store or kidnapping somebody, but it was like this moment opened up and it became doable. If that old lady had stayed it never could’ve happened. I just stood there at the register a moment, because I was sure somebody else would walk into the store, or another employee would come in from some back room or the bathroom or wherever. But no. And right then I knew I could do it. You know how we’ve talked about how a good quarterback can see the whole field and know exactly how it’ll look a few seconds later? That’s how it felt. I saw the play come together, and I knew exactly what to do.”
I didn’t like the quarterback comparison. It meant that alongside whatever remorse he might now claim to be feeling, he was still feeling the rush, the residual amazement at what he’d done.
“All right, Joe Montana,” Nolan said, “describe the play.”
“She rang up the Tums, and I handed her some money, but the instant the register opened, I looked out the glass door and said, ‘Oh my God, she fell,’ or something like that. Marie must have known the woman, because she gasped and said, ‘Mrs. Tyler?’ And I said, ‘Yeah,’ and then she ran for the door.”
“Without shutting the register?” I asked.
“I made it all sound really urgent,” he said. “So yeah. I leaned over the counter and grabbed a handful of bills from the register and stuffed them in my pocket. Marie didn’t even notice—she was already opening the door to go outside, so I hurried up and went with her, and then when we were out there I took her arm and said, ‘Hurry, follow me,’ and that’s exactly what she did. She must’ve thought your car was the old lady’s car right up until the last second. It was dark and rainy, and it all happened so fast, I don’t think she knew what was going on until she was already in the car. I know I didn’t.” He looked at us, as if trying to gauge our reaction. “It sounds really calculated, but that’s not how it felt. It felt as if I hadn’t even decided to do it until it was already done.”
I thought I understood better now why the authorities might not have been notified. Marie had been alone in the store. She’d come outside willingly. There was nothing to see and no one to see it.