CHAPTER 19
Pluto to Mom. Come in, please.”
We were home. How long I had been pressing the button on the coffee grinder I did not know. The beans were pulverized, fit to make hot mud.
In the distance Patty Sue was running a bath.
“You okay, Mom?” came Arch’s voice again. “I need to talk to you about Halloween.”
I looked at the would-be surgical-pack thief.
He said, “You want me to make you some coffee?”
“Sure.”
Arch dumped out the dust I’d made of the beans, measured more, whirred the grinder, lined the filter with paper, ran fresh cold water. Then I remembered that I had not talked to him about what I had taken from his desk. He had been to school today. Had he noticed anything missing? And what was the bigger picture of my son and Laura Smiley, anyway? I studied him.
“Arch. Hallo
