Blunt Darts

looked at each other for a moment. I had the feeling that Kim’s wheels turned faster and a lot more frequently than her mother’s.
    I sighed in what I hoped was a reassuring way. “Kim, I was hired by Stephen’s grandmother, not his father. His father, for reasons I can’t imagine, doesn’t seem much interested in finding Stephen. Valerie—Ms. Jacobs—and I have been chasing down every lead we can find. She told me you and Stephen were good friends, that maybe you could help.”
    Kim settled back into the chair. Her left hand began to fiddle with the earphones around her neck. “Ms. Jacobs said Stephen and I were good friends?” she asked.
    I sensed an opening. “Actually, I asked her who was closest to Stephen in the class, and she said you were.” Kim flushed a little, partly from pride, partly from embarrassment. Mostly from pride, though.
    “Stephen’s a hard person to get close to,” she said. He and I went to different schools till last year, and last year’s homeroom was alphabetical. You know, they’d assign us to rooms based on our last names, then somebody got the idea that alphabetical assignment was ‘stultifying.’ That’s the word the principal used this year, ‘stultifying.’ So they just assigned us randomly.” She smiled. “So this was the first year I had a lot of classes with Stephen.”
    I leaned back in the couch. “I’ve seen photographs of Stephen, but I’ve never met him. What’s he like?”
    She eyed me for a moment and decided I was sincere. “He’s the smartest guy I’ve ever met. There are a lot of kids at our school who are great test-takers, even without studying or anything, you know. But Stephen is really different. He’s smart past everybody, even the teachers, way past.” She gave me a smug smile. “He’s a genius. He could be anything. Anything he wants.”
    “What does Stephen want?” I asked.
    She frowned, but not at me. “I don’t know,” she said quietly, looking down at her lap.
    Dead end. Back up and try another street.
    “When did you last see Stephen before he disappeared?”
    “It must have been the day he left. We were in school together. We had a morning class, one of those nothing classes you have when exams are over. Then we had lunch.” She smiled again. “We ate lunch together, at one of the picnic tables outside school.”
    “Did he say anything that indicated why he was leaving or where he was going?”
    She frowned again, this time at me. “No,” she said, a little too certainly.
    I sighed and spread my hands in front of me. “Look, Kim, I will not reveal to anyone anything you tell me.”
    She eyed me cautiously. “Like lawyers and clients?” I shook my head. “I won’t bullshit you, Kim. There is no detective-confidential source privilege in Massachusetts. But that just means that I might go to jail keeping quiet about what you tell me. It doesn’t mean I won’t keep my word. I will.” I leaned forward again. “I think Stephen’s in trouble because someone is after him. I don’t know why someone’s after him, and I’m not sure you do. I am sure that if I don’t get more information about Stephen, I’m never going to him.”
    She dropped the frown and resumed her fiddling with the earphones. “Maybe he doesn’t want to be found.”
    I resisted the temptation to ask her why she might think that. “Kim, please trust me.”
    She shook her head. “Stephen once told me not to trust anyone. He said he didn’t trust anyone.”
    “He trusted you,” I said, quietly.
    She smiled sadly. “No, not much.” She wiped at her eyes, then said, “Look, mister, I don’t know where Stephen is. I don’t even know why he left. I was hoping you could tell me he was okay. If you can’t, you can’t. If I can’t, I can’t. Okay?”
    This time I shook my head more emphatically. “No. Not okay. I care about Stephen. I care because he’s had a tough life of it so far, and it’s my job to find him. But you care for him, and despite what you’ve said so far, I think he did trust you with something, with some information. There is no way I can make you trust me, but I don’t see how you can think Stephen is better off out there than back here with us Protecting him.”
    She glared at me. “Us! Us protecting him? It’s his father who’s after him. The judge and Blakey. How can you protect Stephen from them?”
    “I don’t know,” I said, “but maybe the reason Stephen ran would give me leverage enough to do