"Instead, on an emotional level she withdrew from you."

"Which, in turn, contributed to the total sense of inadequacy and failure that I remember feeling at Stonecroft. I tried to be like Dennis, but I certainly wasn't as good-looking. I wasn't an athlete, and I wasn't a leader. The only time I felt any sense of camaraderie was when some of us worked a job together in the evenings our senior year. We'd go out afterward and have a pizza. Perhaps the good part is that I learned compassion for kids who have it tough, and as an adult I have tried to make their paths a little smoother."

"According to what I hear, you're doing a good job of it."

"I hope so. The producers want to move the show to New York, and I've been asked to join the staff of New York Hospital. I think I'm ready to make the change."

"A new beginning?" Jean asked.

"Exactly-where what can't be forgiven or forgotten may at least be relegated to the past." He raised his coffee cup. "Shall we drink to that, Jeannie?"

"Yes, of course." As badly as I was hurt, it was worse for you, Mark, she thought. My parents were too busy hating each other to understand what they were doing to me. Your parents let you know they preferred your brother, and then your father deliberately let your mother believe the one thing that she could never forgive you for. What did that do to your soul?

Her instinct was to reach across the table and lay her hand on his, the same gesture with which he had comforted her yesterday. But something held her back. She simply could not trust him. Then she realized she wanted to pick up on something he had just said. "Mark, what was the evening job you worked at during senior year?"

"I was with the office clean-up crew in a building that has burned down since then. Jack Emerson's father got a bunch of us jobs there. I guess you weren't around when we were joking about it the other night. Every one of the guys who is an honoree pushed a broom or emptied wastebaskets over there."

"All of you?" Jean asked. "Carter and Gordon and Robby and ~.

"That's right. Oh, and one more. Joel Nieman, a.k.a. Romeo. We all worked with Jack. Don't forget, we were the ones who didn't have to practice for games or travel with teams. We were perfect for that job." He paused. "Wait a minute. You should know that building, Jean. You were Dr. Connors' patient."

Jean felt her body turn icy. "I didn't tell you that, Mark."

"You must have. How else would I have known it?" How else, indeed? Jean wondered as she pushed her chair back. "Mark, I have a few phone calls to return. Do you mind if I don't wait while you get the check?"

74

Ms. Ferris was in the studio when Jake returned to school. "How'd you make out, Jake?" she asked as she watched him struggle to close the door while he carefully juggled the heavy camera, moving it off his shoulder and onto the desk.

"It was an adventure, Jill," Jake admitted. "I mean Ms. Ferris," he quickly amended. "I decided to do a chronological womb-to-the-present account of Laura Wilcox. I got a great long shot of St. Thomas of Canterbury Church, and as luck would have it, there was a baby carriage outside. I mean a real baby carriage, not one of those strollers or rollers or whatever they stick kids in these days."

He was taking his recorder out of his pocket as he took off his coat. "Freezing out there," he complained, "but at least the police station was warm."

"The police station, Jake?" Jill Ferris asked cautiously.

"Uh-huh. But let me explain in chronological order. After the church, I got some background pictures, to give people who don't live here a sense of the community. I realize I'm doing this story for the Gazette, but I fully expect it to be picked up by larger publications and to find a wider audience."

"I see. Jake, I don't want to rush you, but I was just leaving."

"This will only take a minute. Then I photographed Laura's second house, the McMansion. It's quite impressive if you like that sort of tacky grandeur. It has a big front yard, and whoever lives there now has stuck a few Grecian statues on the lawn. In my opinion they look pretentious, but it will make readers understand that Laura did not have a 'surprise lunch' childhood."

" 'Surprise lunch' childhood?" Jill Ferris asked, bewildered.

"Let me explain. My grandfather told me about a comedian named Sam Levenson who said his family was so poor that his mother bought cans off a pushcart for two cents each. They were that cheap because the labels had fallen off, and nobody knew what was inside them. She'd tell her kids that they were having a 'surprise lunch.' They never knew what they were going to eat. Anyhow, the pictures of Laura's second house reflect a solid middle-class, even slightly upper-middle-class upbringing."

Jake's expression darkened. "After I took some long shots of the houses surrounding Laura's former home, I drove across town to Mountain Road where she had lived for the first sixteen years of her life. It's a very pleasant street, and, frankly, the house is more to my taste than the one with the Grecian statues. Anyhow, I'd barely begun to shoot when a squad car pulled up and a most aggressive policeman wanted to know what I thought I was doing. When I explained that I was exercising my right as a private citizen to take photographs in the street, he invited me to get in his squad car, and he drove me to the station house."

"He arrested you, Jake?" Jill Ferris exclaimed.

"No, ma'am. Not exactly. The captain questioned me, and since I felt I had been of valuable service to Investigator Deegan when I alerted him that Laura Wilcox sounded extremely nervous when she called to ask the hotel to hold her room, I felt I had the right to explain to the captain that I was a special assistant to Mr. Deegan in the investigation of Laura's disappearance."

I'm going to miss this kid when he graduates, Jill Ferris thought. She decided that it wouldn't hurt to be a few minutes late for her appointment at the dentist. "Did the captain believe you, Jake?" she asked.

"He called Mr. Deegan, who not only did not back me up but suggested that the captain should toss me in jail and then lose the key." Jake looked hard at his teacher. "It's not funny, Ms. Ferris. I feel Mr. Deegan broke a trust. The captain, as it turns out, was much more sympathetic. He was even kind enough to say that I could finish my photos tomorrow, since I got to take only a few pictures of the house on Mountain Road. He did warn me that I'd better not trespass on anyone's property. I'm going to develop today's film now, and with your permission, I'll sign the camera out again tomorrow and finish my shoot."

"That'll be fine, Jake, but remember, those older cameras aren't being made anymore. Don't let anything happen to it, or I'll be the one in trouble, not you. Now, I've got to run."

"I'll guard it with my life," Jake called after her. I mean it, he thought as he rewound the roll of film and removed it from the camera. But even though the captain warned me not to set foot on anyone's property, for the sake of getting proper coverage for my story, I have to commit an act of civil disobedience, he told himself. I intend to get pictures of the back of Laura's house on Mountain Road. Since no one is living there, I'm sure I won't be noticed.

He went into the darkroom and began developing the pictures, one of his favorite tasks. He found it thrilling and creative to watch people and objects begin to emerge from the negatives. One by one he clipped the prints on a clothesline to dry, then got out his magnifying glass and studied them carefully. They were all good-and he didn't mind saying so himself-but the single shot he'd been able to take of Laura's house on Mountain Road before the cop showed up was the most interesting of the lot.