“Come with me,” I said, including both Nev and Jason
in the invitation, and together, the three of us stepped outside.
There’s always something happening on Thursday night in Old Town, and that night was
no exception. The music was cranked at the bar down the street, its deep bass line
punctuating our steps and vibrating my bones. Lightssparkled from the display window of the interior design studio that had opened almost
directly across from the Button Box only a couple weeks earlier, and tourists scrambled
all around us, heading for nearby clubs and restaurants. The scene was just as lively
and interesting as our merchants and residents association promised tourists it would
be on our website and in our e-mail newsletter.
When we stepped under the yellow crime-scene tape that was draped across the entrance
to the alleyway and on to the brick walkway that led back to the courtyard, though,
it was as if we were entering another world.
There, the music was muted and it was nearly pitch dark. Still, when we stepped from
between my brownstone and the one next door and into the courtyard, and Nev felt along
the back wall of my brownstone for the switch that would turn on the faux gaslight
near the park bench, I stopped him.
“We’ll have to look for the enamel button and the metal button once it’s light,” I
told him. “But if we’re going to find that uranium glass button, this is the ideal
time to do it. We need to do it in the dark.”
I pulled out my keychain and switched on the light at the end of it.
“Hey, it’s a black light.” Jason was young, but perceptive enough.
He couldn’t see me nod, so I explained. “Uranium glass really does have uranium in
it. It was added to the glass prior to melting, before the melted glass was pressed
into the button molds. And when a UV light is shined on an object with uranium in
it—”
“Cool!” Jason was obviously a science nerd. “It glows.Hey,” he added for Nev’s benefit, “when it comes to buttons, she really knows her
stuff.”
Jason was right.
But only if I found the uranium glass button.
Keeping the thought in mind, I swept the light over the ground near our feet, and
when I didn’t see a thing, I moved a couple steps and began the sweep all over again.
As I mentioned before, the courtyard wasn’t big, but looking through it inch by careful
inch still took time. The minutes ticked by with me, Nev, and Jason walking side by
side, scanning the ground, and after a while, we were nearly to the center of the
courtyard.
Nearly at the spot where I’d found Angela’s body.
Darn it, I tried my best to act like it was no big deal, but before I could control
the reaction, my spine stiffened and my breath caught.
He didn’t say a word, Nev just slipped his arm through mine.
I didn’t thank him. For one thing, Jason was standing on Nev’s left, and for all I
knew, he hadn’t noticed Nev’s gallant gesture. For another…well, I was afraid if I
tried to speak, my voice would crack and the raw emotions I was hiding would come
tumbling out.
This wasn’t the time for that.
Though it was most definitely the place.
I skimmed the black light over the pavement where, hours before, Angela had been sprawled
on her back, her eyes staring up into a clear morning sky she couldn’t see, her mouth
gaping in an expression that was at once a sign that she’d been gasping for air and
an indication of how surprised she’d been by the attack.
Now, of course, the body had been removed, and nothing remained to show the horror
that had happened at the spot the night before, nothing more than the chalk outline
of Angela’s body.
“No…” My words were tight in my throat, and I coughed. “No sign of the button here,”
I said, and I kept on looking.
Jason wasn’t convinced. Not that I could say for certain, of course, since it was
nearly impossible to see his face in the dark, but I
in the invitation, and together, the three of us stepped outside.
There’s always something happening on Thursday night in Old Town, and that night was
no exception. The music was cranked at the bar down the street, its deep bass line
punctuating our steps and vibrating my bones. Lightssparkled from the display window of the interior design studio that had opened almost
directly across from the Button Box only a couple weeks earlier, and tourists scrambled
all around us, heading for nearby clubs and restaurants. The scene was just as lively
and interesting as our merchants and residents association promised tourists it would
be on our website and in our e-mail newsletter.
When we stepped under the yellow crime-scene tape that was draped across the entrance
to the alleyway and on to the brick walkway that led back to the courtyard, though,
it was as if we were entering another world.
There, the music was muted and it was nearly pitch dark. Still, when we stepped from
between my brownstone and the one next door and into the courtyard, and Nev felt along
the back wall of my brownstone for the switch that would turn on the faux gaslight
near the park bench, I stopped him.
“We’ll have to look for the enamel button and the metal button once it’s light,” I
told him. “But if we’re going to find that uranium glass button, this is the ideal
time to do it. We need to do it in the dark.”
I pulled out my keychain and switched on the light at the end of it.
“Hey, it’s a black light.” Jason was young, but perceptive enough.
He couldn’t see me nod, so I explained. “Uranium glass really does have uranium in
it. It was added to the glass prior to melting, before the melted glass was pressed
into the button molds. And when a UV light is shined on an object with uranium in
it—”
“Cool!” Jason was obviously a science nerd. “It glows.Hey,” he added for Nev’s benefit, “when it comes to buttons, she really knows her
stuff.”
Jason was right.
But only if I found the uranium glass button.
Keeping the thought in mind, I swept the light over the ground near our feet, and
when I didn’t see a thing, I moved a couple steps and began the sweep all over again.
As I mentioned before, the courtyard wasn’t big, but looking through it inch by careful
inch still took time. The minutes ticked by with me, Nev, and Jason walking side by
side, scanning the ground, and after a while, we were nearly to the center of the
courtyard.
Nearly at the spot where I’d found Angela’s body.
Darn it, I tried my best to act like it was no big deal, but before I could control
the reaction, my spine stiffened and my breath caught.
He didn’t say a word, Nev just slipped his arm through mine.
I didn’t thank him. For one thing, Jason was standing on Nev’s left, and for all I
knew, he hadn’t noticed Nev’s gallant gesture. For another…well, I was afraid if I
tried to speak, my voice would crack and the raw emotions I was hiding would come
tumbling out.
This wasn’t the time for that.
Though it was most definitely the place.
I skimmed the black light over the pavement where, hours before, Angela had been sprawled
on her back, her eyes staring up into a clear morning sky she couldn’t see, her mouth
gaping in an expression that was at once a sign that she’d been gasping for air and
an indication of how surprised she’d been by the attack.
Now, of course, the body had been removed, and nothing remained to show the horror
that had happened at the spot the night before, nothing more than the chalk outline
of Angela’s body.
“No…” My words were tight in my throat, and I coughed. “No sign of the button here,”
I said, and I kept on looking.
Jason wasn’t convinced. Not that I could say for certain, of course, since it was
nearly impossible to see his face in the dark, but I
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