Hold Tight by Harlan Coben Page B

report?”
    “Maybe I’ll tell Mike to do that later.”
    “You can do it from here.”
    “I thought I could only get it off my own computer.”
    “Nah. You can access it anywhere you have an Internet connection.” Tia frowned. “That doesn’t sound secure.”
    “You still need your ID and password. You just go to the E-SpyRight page and sign in. Maybe your kid got an e-mail or something.”
    Tia thought about it.
    Brett moved to his laptop and typed something in. He spun it toward her. The E-SpyRight home page was up. “I’m going to, like, grab a soda downstairs,” he said. “You want something?”
    She shook her head.
    “All yours,” Brett said.
    He headed for the door. Tia slid into the chair and began typing. She brought up the report and asked for anything that came in to- day. There was almost nothing, just a quick instant-message conversation with the mysterious CeeJay8115.
    CeeJay8115: What’s wrong?
    HockeyAdam1117: His mother approached me after
    school.
    CeeJay8115: What did she say?
    HockeyAdam1117: She knows something.
    CeeJay8115: What did you tell her?
    HockeyAdam1117: Nothing. I ran.
    CeeJay8115: We will discuss tonight.
    Tia read it again. Then she took out her cell phone and hit the speed dial. “Mike?”
    “What?”
    “Find him. Find him no matter what.”
    RON held the photograph.
    He stared at it, but Betsy could tell he had stopped seeing it. His body language was beyond troubling. He twitched and stiffened. He put the picture on the table and crossed his arms over his chest. He picked it up again.
    “What does this change?” he asked.
    He started blinking rapidly, the way a stutterer might when he’s trying to get out a particularly difficult word. The sight terrified Betsy. Ron hadn’t done that rapid blink in years. Her mother-in-law had explained that Ron had gotten beaten up a lot when he was in second grade and hid it from her. That was when the blink started. It had gotten better as he’d gotten older. It barely surfaced now. Even after they heard about Spencer, Betsy hadn’t seen the blink.
    She wished that she could take the picture back. Ron had come home and tried to reach out and she’d slapped his hand away.
    “He wasn’t alone that night,” she said.
    “So?”
    “Didn’t you hear what I said?”
    “Maybe he went out with his friends first. So what?”
    “Why didn’t they say anything?”
    “Who knows? They were scared, maybe Spencer told them not to, or maybe, probably, you got the date wrong. Maybe he saw them briefly and then went out. Maybe this picture was taken earlier in the day.”
    “No. I confronted Adam Baye at school-”
    “You what?”
    “I waited until school ended. I showed him the photograph.” Ron just shook his head.
    “He ran away from me. There was definitely something there.”
    “Like what?”
    “I don’t know. But remember Spencer had a bruise by his eye when the police found him.”
    “They explained that. He probably passed out and fell on his face.”
    “Or maybe someone hit him.”
    Ron’s voice grew soft. “No one hit him, Bets.”
    Betsy said nothing. The blinking got worse. Tears started spilling down Ron’s cheeks. She reached for him but he pulled away.
    “Spencer mixed pills and alcohol. Do you understand that, Betsy?”
    She said nothing.
    “Nobody forced him to steal that bottle of vodka from our cabinet. Nobody forced him to take those pills from my medicine chest. Where I left them. Just in view. We know that, right? That was my prescription bottle that, yes, I just left out. The ones I kept asking for renewals when, really, I should have been over the pain and moved on, right?”
    “Ron, it’s not…”
    “Not what? You don’t think I see it?”
    “See what?” she asked. But she knew. “I don’t blame you, I swear.”
    “Yeah, you do.”
    She shook her head. But he never saw it. Ron was up and out the door.

12
    NASH was ready to strike.
    He waited in the lot at the Palisades Mall in Nyack. The