Id Know You Anywhere PDF
Preview Id Know You Anywhere
I’d Know You Anywhere Laura Lippman For Dorothy and Bernie Contents Part I I’d Know You Anywhere 1 “ISO TIME FOR—” 2 WALTER BOWMAN WAS GOOD—LOOKING. Anyone who said otherwise was contrary,… 3 “HA—HA,” PETER MARVELED. “He actually wrote ‘ha-ha.’ 4 POINT OF ROCKS. He had always liked that name, seen… 5 ELIZA’S PARENTS LIVED ONLY THIRTY minutes from the new house,… 6 “WANNABE,” HER SISTER SAID. 7 ELIZA HAD NEVER GOOGLED HERSELF What would have been the… 8 HE HAD GONE TOO FAR this time. Literally, too far. 9 SHE DECIDED TO WRITE WALTER a letter, nothing more. That’s… 10 SHE HAD NEVER GONE to the bathroom outside before. She… 11 FOR A FEW DAYS, letter to Walter was like a… FOR A FEW DAYS, letter to Walter was like a… 12 THE HAIR RIBBON, WALTER THOUGHT when he read the Baltimore… 13 “THAT’S ENOUGH,” PETER SAID, when Eliza told him about the… 14 THEY DROVE. IF THERE WAS a purpose, a destination, Elizabeth… 15 I CAN READ YOU LIKE a book is not generally… 16 ALTHOUGH HE HAD GROWN UP nearby—perhaps because he had grown… 17 IT WAS TWO DAYS BEFORE Eliza found the piece of… 18 AS SEPTEMBER DRAGGED ON, Elizabeth began to petition Walter to… 19 THAT EVENING, ONCE THE CHILDREN were asleep—well, Albie was asleep,… 20 “LOOK AT THAT GIRL, the shine on her,” Walter said. Part II Careless Whisper 21 THE NEW PHONE SAT in the alcove off the master… 22 TRUDY TACKETT WAS IN HER CLOSET, taking careful inventory of… 23 THE PRINCIPAL IS YOUR PAL. The old mnemonic device sounded… 24 IT WAS NEVER REALLY QUIET on Sussex I. It didn’t… Part III In My House 25 “I’M SORRY.” 26 BARBARA LAFORTUNY WAS ONE of the wonders of her twice-weekly… 27 TRUDY TACKETT HATED THE WORD privilege. It was tricky, loaded,… 28 ISO WAS GROUNDED. GIVEN THAT this was a first for… Part IV Who’s Zoomin’ Who? 29 BARBARA LAFORTUNY SAT OUTSIDE the Baltimore train station, parked in… 30 “SO WHAT HAVE YOU BEEN up to?” Walter asked Eliza. 31 THE WOMAN IN THE WINDOW seat looked over Jared Garrett’s… 32 “OCTOBER GIVETH AND OCTOBER TAKETH away,” Peter intoned the next… Part V Holiday 33 “A PRISON IS A CORPORATION, a world unto itself,” said… 34 TRUDY DID NOT CONSIDER HERSELF a Luddite. She liked technology. TRUDY DID NOT CONSIDER HERSELF a Luddite. She liked technology. 35 NORMALLY, WALTER LIKED TO TALK to his lawyer. Blanding was… 36 “WHO’S TRUDY TACKETT? ISO ASKED.” Part VI Crazy for You 37 LIKE THE LOVELORN TEENAGER she never was, Trudy kept returning… 38 STRANGELY, OUT OF ALL the things that should have bothered… 39 WALTER WAS OUTSIDE FOR HIS hour of recreation for the… 40 ELIZA EASED HER BODY INTO BED, joints aching as if… Part VII Everybody Wants to Rule the World 41 “DO YOU WANT TO STOP?” Vonnie asked. “There are a… 42 “BACK AGAIN, MISS LAFORTUNY?” asked the young woman at the… 43 WALTER WOKE UP THINKING about ketchup. Why was he thinking… 44 ELIZA AND VONNIE APPROACHED the prison gate with the kind… Part VIII Voices Carry 45 SECURITY AT THE GREENVILLE FACILITY stricter than at Sussex, with… Part IX Every Day 46 TWO WEEKS BEFORE CHRISTMAS, Eliza was walking Reba in the… Author’s Note About the Author Other Books by Laura Lippman Copyright About the Publisher Part I I’D KNOW YOU ANYWHERE 1 “ISO TIME FOR—” Eliza Benedict paused at the foot of the stairs. Time for what, exactly? All summer long—it was now August—Eliza had been having trouble finding the right words. Not complicated ones, the things required to express strong emotions or abstract concepts, make difficult confessions to loved ones. She groped for the simplest words imaginable, everyday nouns. She was only thirty- eight. What would her mind be like at fifty, at seventy? Yet her own mother was sharp as a tack at the age of seventy-seven. No, this was clearly a temporary, transitional problem, a consequence of the family’s return to the States after six years in England. Ironic, because Eliza had scrupulously avoided Briticisms while living there; she thought Americans who availed themselves of local slang were pretentious. Yet home again, she couldn’t get such words—lift, lorry, quid, loo—out of her head, her mouth. The result was that she was often tongue-tied, as she was now. Not at a loss for words, as the saying would have it, but overwhelmed with words, weighed down with words, drowning in them. She started over, projecting her voice up the stairs without actually yelling, a technique in which she took great pride. “Iso, time for football camp.” “Soccer,” her daughter replied in a muffled, yet clearly scornful voice, her default tone since turning thirteen seven months ago. There was a series of slamming and banging noises, drawers and doors, and when she spoke again, Iso’s voice was clearer. (Where had her head been just moments ago, in the laundry hamper, inside her jersey, in the toilet? Eliza had a lot of fears, so far unfounded, about eating disorders.) “Why is it that you called it soccer when everyone else said football, and now you say football when you know it’s supposed to be soccer?” At least I remembered to call you Iso. “It’s your camp and you’re the one who hates to be late.” “Football is better,” said Albie, hovering at Eliza’s elbow. Just turned eight, he was still young enough to enjoy being by—and on—Eliza’s side. “Better as a word, or better as a sport?” “As a word, for soccer,” he said. “It’s closer to being right. Because it’s mainly feet, and sometimes heads. And hands, for the goalie. While American
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