“I didn’t know him.” “You turned awfully pale when you saw him.” “I’ll bet you did too,” she shot back. “And cops make me turn pale too.” I reached into my pocket and pulled out the paper. I unfolded the eight-and-a-half-by-eleven sheet until only one fold remained. I held it out for her to see. TORI, handwritten in block letters. A flash of something like fear appeared before she could stop it. Even if the paper hadn’t been on a dead man, that quick inability to school her features would have told me it was somehow significant, because Tori was a master at controlling herself, her technique perfected when Dad and Pop got into so much trouble. I opened the paper and laid it on the table. A free-form crossword puzzle with circles around certain spaces stared up at us. ACROSS DOWN 1 competent 1 from the heart 3 truth 2 all 6 rent 4 shirt or time 7 strange 5 affirmative 9 wild waves or men 8 cause to happen 11 red stone 10 hand and shot 12 — one’s throat 13 intimidation 14 avain home 15 written words 16 half a laugh 18 … one’s heels 17 escape 19 cruising 21 Dutch kindnesses 20 precious mineral 23 aware 22 practice theft Tori glanced at her Times booklet, open on its spiral binding to the current project.
