Read Online The Rag and Bone Shop by Robert Cormier - Free Book Online

on the situation. His instincts told him that this was the proper moment to leave the boy suspended, allow him a moment or two of reflection. Other times, it was important to build inexorably, without interruption, toward the climax, confession and revelation. But that would come later.
    The boy frowned, surprised at the suggestion.
    “I think a break would do some good,” Trent said. “I’ll step out for a moment or two. Would you like something to drink? I can bring you back a soda.”
    Trent, of course, would not bring back a drink, would pretend he had forgotten. But planting the idea of a refreshment would make the boy aware of his thirst.
    “Thanks,” Jason said, glad of the break but still uneasy. The questioning had not gone as he’d expected and he wasn’t sure about where things stood at the moment. Was he doing okay? He felt like he was back in school, not knowing whether he had passed or failed a test or picked the right answer in a multiple-choice quiz.

    T rent almost ran into Sarah Downes when he stepped into the hallway. She was standing immediately outside the door. Braxton and the senator were not in sight.
    He was pleased to see her, a sudden and unexpected flash of brightness in the bleakness of headquarters.
    “Keeping watch?” he asked, a bit of teasing in his voice.
    “I’m interested,” she said. “And I always pace the floor when I’m killing time.” Sighing, she said: “How’s it going?”
    He shrugged. “We’re only in the preliminary stage. He seems like a nice kid. Well-mannered, apparently sincere.” For her sake, he didn’t emphasize
apparently.
    She gave him a wisp of a smile. “That’s nice to hear.”
    “Any new developments?”
    “I think they’ve stopped looking for new developments, although Braxton keeps sniffing around. He never sleeps, literally.”
    Trent didn’t take her up on Braxton’s sleeping habits.
    “Otherwise, nothing’s going on,” she said. “They figure you’ve got the proper suspect, the perp, in there. Unless . . .”
    “Unless I find him innocent.”
    “Do you think you will?”
    Was there a challenge in her voice?
    Why did this young woman disturb him? Why was it important to justify himself to her?
    “If he’s innocent, I’m going to find out,” he replied, aware again of her cologne, feminine and subtle.
    “I hope so,” she said, reaching out and, surprisingly, touching his arm. “I’m sorry if I seemed so negative, so abrasive, in the car. I realize how hard your job can be. I apologize.”
    “No apology necessary,” Trent said.
    He felt suddenly cheered, as if someone had opened a window, allowing a fresh breeze to invade the hallway.
    “I’d better get back,” he said, although reluctant to end the conversation. “I wanted the boy to have a few minutes alone. The line of questioning so far has thrown him off balance a bit. I think the stage is set for the next level.”
    He wondered why he was telling her this, why it seemed important that she should know what he was doing.
    “Good luck to both of you,” she said.
    Trent was pleased that her voice didn’t convey the sarcasm he had expected.
     
    Jason was thirsty, his throat parched, his mouth so dry that his tongue seemed to have swelled up. Funny, but he hadn’t realized he was thirsty until Mr. Trent said he’d bring him back something to drink. He noticed for the first time the absence of windows in the room.
    Mr. Trent puzzled him. He seemed friendly, like he really wanted to help find out who had murdered Alicia, wanted to help Jason remember what had really happened that day, but at the same time there was something about his questions. Jason used the word
strange
for want of a better word. He couldn’t figure Trent out or what he wanted Jason to say. Sometimes he seemed unfriendly, like Jason had done something wrong, had broken a rule, a rule Jason didn’t even know about. And those eyes of his. Like black marbles but alive, that didn’t blink