sure in his crazy head he is, but they don’t make any sense at all. He is insane , remember, Sarah. Nutso. Maybe not legally, maybe not enough to get him off the hook. But crazy enough that we should be throwing out his letters unopened.”
I gasped. “You don’t do that, do you? Throw them out?”
Another pause. And then, quieter this time, with reluctance, “No. I have them.”
“Maybe he’s crazy, maybe not. But listen, I think I’ve figured something out. I think he is sending messages to you in my letters, and maybe to Christine as well. I think there might be something in his letters to you that I might understand, and vice versa.”
She didn’t answer for a long time, but I knew her well enough to know I should wait. She was thinking.
“And how is this going to help us, Sarah? Do you think he’s letting us each know how special we are to him? How much he still loves us? Do you think he’s going to give us some key to put him in jail longer? He is many things, Sarah, but he is not stupid.”
“No, he’s not stupid. But he likes to take risks. He likes games, and he might want to give us a fair hand. It would give him a lot of pleasure to think he was telling us something meaningful and we were too stupid to figure it out.”
I could sense her mulling this over in the quiet over the line. “You have a point. So what do we do? Send each other our letters?”
I took a deep breath. “I think it’s more complicated than that. I think … I think we need to meet.”
“That seems indescribably unnecessary.” Her tone was icy. I could hear her hatred loud and clear.
“Listen, Tracy, I’ll be back in New York in two days. Can you drive down and meet me there? I’m sure you have a lot going on right now with your journal and all that, but I don’t think we have time to waste. What is your cell number? I can text you when I get in, and we can meet.”
“I’ll think about it,” she replied. And then the line went dead.
CHAPTER 9
After ordering in herbal tea from room service to recover from my contact with Tracy, I drove back out to Keeler, to pay a visit to Noah Philben at his new office. As a rule, I didn’t like people with radical ideas, and I had, up until this point, structured my entire life to avoid them. Fanatics, mystics, and extremists all tended toward irrational and unexpected action. Statistics could not protect you from that.
I wanted people to fit squarely within their appropriately delineated demographic category: age, education, income level. These facts should have predictive value, and when they didn’t, my ability to interpret and relate to people went askew. As Jennifer and I would always say, at that point, anything can happen, and there were too many categories of “anything” I didn’t like.
Even though the tank of my rental car was not even half empty,I stopped at a gas station on the way down, taking advantage of what appeared to be an unusually pristine BP right outside of town. I noticed with no small satisfaction that the attendant was locked away from me behind unbreakable plexiglass. If only everyone could be like that.
I found the shopping center with no trouble and pulled into a parking space close to the grocery store, where a buzz of shoppers passed in and out, their carts rattling loudly as they crossed the uneven pavement. I sat in the car for a minute, wondering what the hell I was doing here.
I reached into my bag and pulled out my cell phone, checking it out of nervous habit. It was comforting to see the fully charged battery icon and the five signal bars radiating out at me. My shoulders dropped half an inch at that, and I breathed in deeply.
As I considered my next task, however, I felt the urge to bolt, to race back to New York and forget this whole escapade. I could simply testify, the way Jim wanted me to. No way would they let Jack Derber out of jail—the parole hearing was surely just the State of Oregon going
I gasped. “You don’t do that, do you? Throw them out?”
Another pause. And then, quieter this time, with reluctance, “No. I have them.”
“Maybe he’s crazy, maybe not. But listen, I think I’ve figured something out. I think he is sending messages to you in my letters, and maybe to Christine as well. I think there might be something in his letters to you that I might understand, and vice versa.”
She didn’t answer for a long time, but I knew her well enough to know I should wait. She was thinking.
“And how is this going to help us, Sarah? Do you think he’s letting us each know how special we are to him? How much he still loves us? Do you think he’s going to give us some key to put him in jail longer? He is many things, Sarah, but he is not stupid.”
“No, he’s not stupid. But he likes to take risks. He likes games, and he might want to give us a fair hand. It would give him a lot of pleasure to think he was telling us something meaningful and we were too stupid to figure it out.”
I could sense her mulling this over in the quiet over the line. “You have a point. So what do we do? Send each other our letters?”
I took a deep breath. “I think it’s more complicated than that. I think … I think we need to meet.”
“That seems indescribably unnecessary.” Her tone was icy. I could hear her hatred loud and clear.
“Listen, Tracy, I’ll be back in New York in two days. Can you drive down and meet me there? I’m sure you have a lot going on right now with your journal and all that, but I don’t think we have time to waste. What is your cell number? I can text you when I get in, and we can meet.”
“I’ll think about it,” she replied. And then the line went dead.
CHAPTER 9
After ordering in herbal tea from room service to recover from my contact with Tracy, I drove back out to Keeler, to pay a visit to Noah Philben at his new office. As a rule, I didn’t like people with radical ideas, and I had, up until this point, structured my entire life to avoid them. Fanatics, mystics, and extremists all tended toward irrational and unexpected action. Statistics could not protect you from that.
I wanted people to fit squarely within their appropriately delineated demographic category: age, education, income level. These facts should have predictive value, and when they didn’t, my ability to interpret and relate to people went askew. As Jennifer and I would always say, at that point, anything can happen, and there were too many categories of “anything” I didn’t like.
Even though the tank of my rental car was not even half empty,I stopped at a gas station on the way down, taking advantage of what appeared to be an unusually pristine BP right outside of town. I noticed with no small satisfaction that the attendant was locked away from me behind unbreakable plexiglass. If only everyone could be like that.
I found the shopping center with no trouble and pulled into a parking space close to the grocery store, where a buzz of shoppers passed in and out, their carts rattling loudly as they crossed the uneven pavement. I sat in the car for a minute, wondering what the hell I was doing here.
I reached into my bag and pulled out my cell phone, checking it out of nervous habit. It was comforting to see the fully charged battery icon and the five signal bars radiating out at me. My shoulders dropped half an inch at that, and I breathed in deeply.
As I considered my next task, however, I felt the urge to bolt, to race back to New York and forget this whole escapade. I could simply testify, the way Jim wanted me to. No way would they let Jack Derber out of jail—the parole hearing was surely just the State of Oregon going
Similar Books
