"Last Friday he came in," Toby said. "Thursday night, I mean. Like Friday morning. Three o'clock. And he was different. He was nervous. He didn't eat his pancakes. He kept looking at his phone, except there's no service here, you have to use the Wi-Fi, and the Wi-Fi's bad. And he asked Mom if he could use the office computer to send something. And she said yeah, because it's Jesse. And he was back there a long time and then he came out and he said it didn't go through, the file was too big, and he'd have to drive down to Coudersport in the morning and do it at the library." Toby's voice had gone very flat, the way a kid's voice goes when he has told himself a story so many times in his head that the words have worn smooth. "I asked him what file. He said it was pictures. He said, 'Tobe, you know what they put in the water out here?' And I said water. And he laughed, but not like it was funny."
Hollis put the fork down.
"Then he left. And I went back to the office to lie down. And the office has a window, it's up high, you have to stand on the file cabinet, but you can see the back lot. Where the employees park and the dumpster is. And I heard a door. A truck door. And I got up on the cabinet." He stopped.
"Take your time."
"Jesse's truck was back there. His pickup, not the water truck. And the gray truck was next to it. And Curt Shuler and the other guy were there, and Jesse was there, and they were talking, and then Curt hit him." Toby said it without inflection. "With something. I don't know what. It was dark. Jesse fell down. And the other guy kicked him a couple of times, and then they picked him up and put him in his own truck, in the passenger side, and Curt got in and drove Jesse's truck, and the other guy got in the gray truck, and they left." He took a breath. "And before they left, the other guy looked up. At the window. He looked right at the window. I don't know if he could see me. The light was off. But he looked."
The radio behind the counter had gone to a commercial for a tire place in Bradford. The trucker woman laughed at something the old man said. Out the window the gray truck sat with its engine running.
"Saturday they found Jesse's truck in Pine Creek," Toby said. "Down in the gorge, below Blackwell. It went off the road. It was in the paper. It said he probably fell asleep. It said they found beer cans." He looked up for the first time, and his eyes were dry, and that was the worst part. "Jesse didn't drink. He told me. His dad drank and he didn't."
"Who else have you told?"
"Nobody."
"Not your mom?"
Toby shook his head fast. "Mom's behind on the lot rent. Mr. Shuler already said if she's behind again he's putting us out. And he owns this building. If I said Curt did something, and nobody believed me—" He stopped. "And they'd know. They'd know it was me who saw."
"They know already," Hollis said. "Or they think they might. That's why they're sitting out there."
Toby's face went whiter, which Hollis would not have thought possible.
"They've been around," the boy whispered. "Since Saturday. The gray truck. It drove past the bus stop Monday. It was at the trailer park last night, I think. I saw headlights. And tonight." He swallowed. "Tonight I was out by the ice machine, because Mom lets me sit out there under the roof and watch for owls, and I saw it go by on the road real slow. And then your motorcycle came. And then it came back. And I thought—" His mouth worked. "I thought maybe it was you they wanted. I thought maybe they followed you. I wanted—"