I looked at the receiver but did not take it from his hand.
“She is probably just down by the river with those kids from the high school,” I said.
“Helen,” Arthur said, his voice flat and quick. “The river is five miles away and she does not have her bicycle.”
I walked to the kitchen and looked at the half-eaten sandwich still sitting on the counter.
“She will be back before breakfast,” I said.
“She has never stayed out past ten without calling,” Arthur said, setting the receiver back on its cradle with a heavy click.
“She is angry about the green tank top,” I said.
“People do not run away over a shirt, Helen,” Arthur said.
“You do not know how she is when she gets a thought in her head,” I said.
“I know she is seventeen and it is midnight,” he said.
He walked back to the window, his fingers immediately returning to the metal band of his watch.
“I am going to wait in the car,” he said.
“No,” I said. “Stay inside.”
