He came to an abrupt stop near a mailbox and looked around. Given how long he’d been walking, he was sure he was far enough away that nothing about his being here could be taken as indication that he had ever been there.
“Here” was one of those “mixed” neighborhoods the magazines always talked about when they talked about Philadelphia. There was a McDonald’s on one side of the street and a Starbucks on the other. There was a Panera. There were small shops selling art supplies and other small shops selling drug accessories. In the window of the store with the drug accessories was a big pile of books with the title Best Bongs. The bong on the cover had been made out of an eggplant.
Mark had lived in Philadelphia long enough to know that the neighborhoods were only superficially mixed. The great Philadelphia racial divide didn’t ease up for anybody. Standing where he was, Mark could see the patrons going in and out of McDonald’s and the patrons going in and out of Starbucks. All the people going into McDonald’s or coming out of it were black. All the patrons going in and out of Starbucks were white. It was like the entire city of Philadelphia had signed up to be in some kind of racial stereotype enforcement project.
Mark didn’t actually like Starbucks. On the other hand, he was trying very hard not to call attention to himself. He headed into the Starbucks.
All Starbucks looked alike, just as all McDonald’s looked alike. That was the first rule of chain store restaurants. Mark bought some kind of coffee he didn’t understand and headed for a little round table at the back. He took a swig of it right before he sat down. It tasted, as the man said, like goblin piss.
The store was mostly empty except for a few people who had converged at the counter. That was exactly what he needed. He got out his cell phone and called Beth. Beth picked up immediately, she must have seen the caller ID before she’d heard the ring.
“Where are you?” Mark asked her.
“I’m at work,” Beth said. “But it’s all right, really, there’s nobody much here at the moment. Where are you? I’ve been looking at the news, I’ve been looking—they say—”
“Shut up,” Mark said. “I know you say there isn’t anybody around, but there may be somebody you can’t see. Just listen to me.”
“I am listening,” Beth said. “I’m just scared to death. Wasn’t that the woman—?”
“Shut up,” Mark said again.
Beth made a strangled little noise, but after that, there was nothing.
“Listen,” Mark said again. “I’m not exactly in a position to talk, either. I’m in a Starbucks. I don’t know where exactly, but nowhere near the courthouse. The bad news was that I was near the courthouse. In fact, I was in it—”
“Oh, my God,” Beth said. “Oh, my God. I knew it. I just knew it. I kept looking at the Web sites and there she was and there was that talk we had this morning and I just knew—”
“Shut up. The bad news is there are security cameras all over that damned place and they have to have some pictures of me somewhere. The good news is that there’s no reason at all for these people to know who I am or to think I’m anything but a regular person in the courthouse to do some business. Got it?”
“Yes, Mark, I know, but—”
“Forget the buts. There’s no reason for anybody to know. Even if everything else we were worried about were true, even if she talked to somebody already, even if there’s some kind of federal investigation going on—any of that—it doesn’t matter. I’m not a high-profile figure. I’m not recognizable on sight. If we just shut up and stay shut up, they should never figure out I was ever there.”
“The news sites say they have a suspect in custody,” Beth said. “They say it’s that man, the one who you said was messing with everything. The priest person. He’s going to know who you are, isn’t he? He’s going to be able to tell them about you.”
“At the moment, as far as I know, he’d have nothing to tell them even if he wanted to. I didn’t see him in the courthouse. I don’t see how he could possibly have seen me.”
“Did you get the—the thing? The thing you were talking about?”
“No,” Mark said. “That’s the bad news. I looked for it, but I couldn’t find it.”
“You looked for it? But Mark, how could you have looked for it? Was she there, where you were looking? For God’s sake, was the body there? And that man? What did you do—?”
“I looked around while I had the chance and I got out as soon as I heard someone coming. Try to focus. Did Kaitlyn ever come home?”