Page 111 of Evil Bones
“Yes.”
“She’s sixteen?”
“Seventeen.”
“Is it whiny I’m-going-to-die-of-boredom moody? Get-out-of-my room moody? Buzz-off-you’re-the-dumbest-person-on-the-planet moody?”
“I doubt kids say ‘buzz off’ these days.”
“You know what I mean.”
I did.
“We were having a picnic yesterday when the subject of dogs came up.”
“Who’s ‘we’?”
“Katy, Ruthie, a guy named Lester Meloy, an engineering grad student, and myself.”
“What grad student?”
“Danielle Hall. She also works for the city.”
“The gorilla with the funky hair and eyebrow ring?”
“That’s unkind.”
“She chooses that look.”
I could think of no rejoinder, so I offered none.
“Do you know Hall through UNCC?” Adina asked.
“I don’t really know her.”
“Then how did this little gathering of odd fellows come to be?”
“Hall is Meloy’s friend. They both belong to a campus club called Live. Maybe Live.” I pronounced the name both ways. “The group has taken Ruthie under their wing.” Its wing? Jesus. Why was my brain so concerned with grammar?
“You’re a big, bad professor,” Adina said. “Investigate the group through school channels.”
“I did.”
“And?”
“I learned zip.”
“How can that be?”
“It’s not an officially recognized organization.”
“Back up. How did Ruthie meet these people?”
“She did one of those tours meant for prospective students and parents. Meloy was the guide.”
“O-kaay.” Intonation suggesting maybe it wasn’t.
“You’re an excellent judge of character, right?” I asked.
