Nightrise

Now the garage was between them and any police officers who might be standing guard at the front. Jamie made sure there was nobody around, then slipped behind the neighboring house, making his way through the yard where the two girls played. Only when he was on the other side of the house did he cut back to the street. Alicia's car was parked right in front of him.
    He took one last look at the house where he had lived for the past six months. The entrance was already taped off. There were police officers everywhere, on the porch, on the front lawn, carrying equipment in and out. Three police cars were parked on the street. Distant sirens announced that more were on the way.
    Nobody noticed as Jamie and Alicia crossed the pavement and got into the car. And if anyone had turned around, they would assume that the two of them were neighbors. It was only when they were inside the car — and before she had started the engine — that Alicia turned to him.
    "What was that?" she demanded. "What did you do to that policeman? How did you make him…?" Her voice trailed away.
    "I can't tell you," Jamie replied. "I don't know what I did. And it doesn't matter. Because I'm never going to do it again."
    Alicia nodded and turned the ignition. One of the policemen glanced in her direction but did nothing to stop her.
    Alicia shoved the car into gear and the two of them drove away.
    FIVE
    Missing
    It was later that afternoon. Alicia had managed to book adjoining rooms at the Bluebird Inn and had opened the connecting doors. Jamie was sitting at the table in his half, staring at a selection of food that she had spread out on paper plates: lunch or dinner or something in between. But he wasn't hungry. He wasn't even sure how much time had passed since he and Alicia had left Sparks. He felt hollowed out.
    Somewhere inside him, a voice was telling him that by now he should have been on his way to the theatre, preparing for the first evening performance. But there was going to be no performance. That was all over, and nothing was ever going to be the same again.
    The television was still on. A commercial break ended and yet another news bulletin began. They were reporting two murders now. Don White, shot at the theatre, and his partner, Marcie Kelsey, killed with the same weapon at her rented home. Kelsey. The name barely registered with Jamie. He had always known her as Marcie or Mars. And now she was dead and he was wanted for her murder. Jamie Tyler, twin brother of Scott Tyler. Both boys missing. Delinquents. High on drugs.
    "That's enough!" Alicia picked up the remote control and turned the television off. "None of it's true, so what's the point of listening to it?"
    Jamie said nothing.
    "And you're not just going to sit there. You've got to eat something." She pushed a plastic tub of salad toward him. Jamie glanced at the label, aunt mary's lo-calorie caesar salad
    . There was a picture of an old lady in an apron. She wasn't real, of course. The meal would have been prepared in a factory, chilled and trucked in. The lettuce leaves looked fake too.

    "I'm not hungry," Jamie said.
    "Of course you're hungry. You haven't eaten all day." Alicia sighed. "We have to get our heads together, Jamie," she said. 'You've got the police looking for you. Your brother's gone. Two people are dead. Do you really think you can help anyone just sitting here like this? Have some food and let's talk about what we're going to do."
    She was right. Jamie pronged some of the lettuce with a plastic fork, then took a slice of ham. There were no cooking facilities at the motel and Alicia had chosen food they could eat straight out of the packet. There were also cookies, fruit, cheese, and bread rolls. She'd taken a beer out of the motel minibar. Jamie had a Sprite. He opened the ring pull, and the hiss of escaping gas seemed to unlock something in himself. He was hungry, after all. And thirsty too. He drank most of the Sprite, then began to eat.
    "We need to talk," Alicia continued. Despite what she'd said, she herself wasn't eating. "That trick you pulled back at your aunt's place — that was quite something. Are you going to tell me how you did it?"
    Jamie shook his head. "I don't want to talk about that."
    "Well, let me suggest something to you. The act that you and your brother were doing on the stage — it was no act. You could really do it…read each other's thoughts. Am I right?" Jamie didn't answer, so she went on. "And I guess what I saw back at