Page 92 of The Chain House

“Isn’t Harry Styles in One Direction?” Carl asked.

“Was.” Jennifer hit the light in her room. “But ‘Watermelon Sugar’ is from his solo career.”

He followed her down the hallway. “I ever tell you I can sing solo?”

She looked over her shoulder. “No shit?”

“So low you can’t hear me.”

“You’re an idiot, Carl.”

“Now that’s no way to speak to a friend,” Jennifer’s mom said, coming out of nowhere, or maybe it was the kitchen, with two Tupperware bowls stuffed full of lasagna.

“It’s true though, Mrs. Daley. I am an idiot.”

“Now I hardly believe that,” she said with a smile.

Jennifer kissed her mother’s cheek and thanked her for the food and promised they’d be careful, and that, yes, she’d fill her in on everything tomorrow. From the truck Carl waved, backed carefully out of the driveway, and Jennifer wondered, as her parents stood in the open doorway, waving back to Carl, if they now thought the two of them were dating.

Carl had the Tupperware bowl open and was already digging in as he steered down the road with his left knee. “This is delicious.”

“She does make a mean lasagna.” Jennifer turned on the dome light, opened the copy of The Lord of the Flies, and just as she’d recalled, on the top right corner of the title page was a sticker that had never meant anything to her until now.

Property of Leland Mosby

Twice-Told Used Bookstore

189 Butchertown Road

Lagrange, KY 40220

Jennifer read off the address and Carl claimed to know roughly where it was, and after punching it into the GPS on his phone, said they’d be there in ten minutes.

“It’s ten o’clock,” Carl said through another mouthful of lasagna. “Severely doubt it’s open.”

But she’d already Googled the bookstore and dialed the number. It said on her phone that it had closed two hours ago, but she felt she needed to try, even though she didn’t know if Mr. Mosby was even still alive. She was about to end the call after the fourth ring when someone answered, and the voice of an older Black man said, “Hello, Twice-Told Used Books.”

And Jennifer sighed relief into the phone. “Is Mr. Leland Mosby there?”

“This is he,” the man said. “But who would this be?”

“My name is Jennifer,” she said, almost in a panic. “Jennifer Daley. I’m sorry, I … I didn’t think you’d pick up.”

“A man who loves his books as I do, rarely leaves them. What can I do for you, Ms. Daley?”

Where to even start, she thought, but said, “Have you seen the news today?”

“I see the news on no days,” he said. “Don’t watch it anymore. Can’t, rather, as it too often, and too quickly, brings about indigestion.”

“You’ve heard that Beth Hawthorne was taken?”

“Yes, people in the store do chatter.”

“And you know Sal Batise is set to be executed?”

“In just a couple hours, if I recall.”

“Yes … well, we’re pretty sure that the mystery man … from the Hawthorne massacre years ago, Justice Minks … that he has her. A man you knew as a child.”