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“But it’s okay?” He looks up at me

“It’s okay,” I say “It’s fine Go back to sleep”

My son goes back to sleep I keep driving

And both of us vanish when I wake

1

The first time I met Karen Nichols, she struck me as the kind of woman who ironed her socks

She was blond and petite and stepped out of a kelly-green 1998 VW Bug as Bubba and I crossed the avenue toward St Bartholo coffee in hand It was February, but winter had forgotten to show up that year Except for one snowstorm and a few days in the subzeros, it had been dah forties, and it was only ten in theas it savesthe walk, I’m for it

Karen Nichols placed a hand over her eyebrows, even though the , and smiled uncertainly at me

“Mr Kenzie?”

I gave her ies-loves-his-mom smile and proffered my hand “Miss Nichols?”

She laughed for some reason “Karen, yes, I’m early”

Her hand slid into loved “Call owski”

Bubba grunted and slugged his coffee

Karen Nichols’s hand dropped frohtly, as if afraid she’d have to extend her hand to Bubba Afraid if she did, she et it back

She wore a brown suede jacket that fell to h over a charcoal cable-knit crewneck, crisp blue jeans, and bright white Reeboks None of her apparel looked as if a wrinkle, stain, or wisp of dust had been within a country mile of it

She placed delicate fingers on her smooth neck “A couple of real PIs Wow” Her soft blue eyes crinkled with her button nose and she laughed again

“I’”

Bubba grunted again and kicked me in the ass

“Down, boy,” I said “Heel”

Bubba sipped some coffee

Karen Nichols looked as if she’dhere I decided then not to lead her up toood PR

School was out because it was Saturday, and the air was moist and without a chill, so Karen Nichols, Bubba, and I walked to a bench in the schoolyard I sat down Karen Nichols used an immaculate white handkerchief to dust the surface, then she sat down Bubba frowned at the lack of space on the bench, frowned at s, peered up expectantly

“Good doggie,” I said

Bubba gave me a look that said I’d pay for that as soon as ere away from polite company

“Miss Nichols,” I said, “how did you hear about me?”

She tore her gaze away from Bubba and looked into my eyes for a moment in utter confusion Her blond hair was cut as short as a small boy’s and reminded me of pictures I’ve seen of woainst the skull with gel, and even though it wouldn’t beon its own unless she stepped into the wake of a jet engine, she’d clipped it over her left ear, just below the part, with a s painted on it

Her wide blue eyes cleared and she ain “My boyfriend”