I watched Victor cross the parking lot.

He dropped his keys, picked them up, and didn’t look at the diner again.

That afternoon I went to the library because it was the only place in Oakwood with a computer I could use without giving my name.

Sarah Jenkins found me between the printer and the fire exit.

She set her clipboard on the desk and tapped her metal pen against the edge.

“Brenda Prescott filed a police report at nine twelve this morning.”