Chapter 27

“It’s warm for a hoodie,” I said, focusing back on Nicky.

“I like it.”

“You, uh, don’t want anyone to see your arms?” Preston asked.

Nicky tugged on his sleeve, the left one.

“You do drugs, Nicky?”

I had thought of that, too. Family history set the precedent. Either way, an answer from Nicky was apparently not forthcoming, so I went back to the other topic. “About Archie, did you see him earlier this morning, before just now?”

“Yeah. He was walking through town covered in mud.”

“Ah.” I paused, hoping Nicky would fill the silence.

“He almost stepped in front of Ralph’s garbage truck. I went to grab him, but Ralph slammed on the brakes.” Nicky mimicked the sound, a high-pitched squeal, followed by flapping lips and lots of spit that was likely supposed to approximate crunching gravel.