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Huffs?”
    She was right.
    “Hester called me in her office,” Tia said. “She wants me to go to Boston tomorrow for a deposition.”
    Mike knew how much that meant to her. Since going back to work, most of her assignments had been scut work. “That’s great.”
    “Yeah. But that means I won’t be home.”
    “No problem, I can handle it,” Mike said.
    “Jill is having a sleepover at Yasmin’s. So she won’t be around.”
    “Okay.”
    “So any idea how to keep Adam from going to this party?”
    “Let me think about it,” Mike said. “I may have an idea.”
    “Okay.”
    He saw something cross her face. Then he remembered. “You said two things were bothering you.”
    She nodded and something happened to her face. Not much. If you were playing poker, you might call it a tell. That was the thing when you are married a long time. You can read the tells so easily-or maybe your partner doesn’t care to hide them anymore. Whatever, Mike knew that this was not going to be good news.
    “An instant-message exchange,” Tia said. “From two days ago.”
    She reached into her purse and pulled it out. Instant-messaging. Kids talked via typing in live time to one another. The results came out with the name and a colon like some awful screenplay. Parents, most of whom had spent many an adolescent hour doing the same thing on plain old phones, bemoaned this development. Mike didn’t really see the problem. We had phones, they have IM and texting. Same thing. It reminded Mike of those old people who curse out the younger generation’s video games while hopping on a bus to Atlantic City to play video slots. Hypocrisy, right?
    “Take a look.”
    Mike slipped on his reading glasses. He had just started using them a few months back and had quickly grown to detest the inconvenience. Adam’s screen name was still HockeyAdam1117. He had picked that out years ago. The number was Mark Messier’s, his favorite hockey player, and Mike’s own number seventeen from his Dartmouth days, combined. Funny that Adam hadn’t changed it. Or maybe again that made perfect sense. Or maybe, most likely, it meant nothing.
    CeeJay8115: U ok?
    HockeyAdam1117: I still think we should say something.
    CeeJay8115: It’s long over. Just stay quiet and all safe.
    According to the timer, there was no typing for a full minute.
    CeeJay8115: U there?
    HockeyAdam1117: Yes
    CeeJay8115: All ok?
    HockeyAdam1117: All ok.
    CeeJay8115: Good. C U Fri.
    That was the end.
    “ ‘Stay quiet and all safe,’ ” Mike repeated.
    “Yes.”
    “What do you think it means?” he asked.
    “No idea.”
    “Could be something with school. Like maybe they saw someone cheat on a test or something.”
    “Could be.”
    “Or it could be nothing. Could be like part of one of those online adventure games.”
    “Could be,” Tia said again, clearly not buying.
    “Who is CeeJay8115?” Mike asked.
    She shook her head. “It’s the first time I’ve seen Adam IM with him.”
    “Or her.”
    “Right, or her.”
    “ ‘See you Friday.’ So CeeJay8115 will be at the Huff party. Does that help us?”
    “I don’t see how.”
    “So do we ask him about it?”
    Tia shook her head. “It’s too vague, don’t you think?”
    “I do,” Mike agreed. “And it would mean letting him know we’re spying on him.”
    They both stood there. Mike read it again. The words didn’t change.
    “Mike?”
    “Yeah.”
    “What would Adam need to stay quiet about in order to be safe?”
    NASH, the bushy mustache in his pocket, sat in the van’s passenger seat. Pietra, the straw-haired wig off, drove.
    In his right hand, Nash held Marianne’s mobile device. It was a BlackBerry Pearl. You could e-mail, take pictures, watch videos, text, synch your calendar and address book with your home computer, and even make phone calls.
    Nash touched the button. The screen lit up. A photograph of Mar- ianne’s daughter popped up. He stared at it for a moment. Pitiful, he thought. He hit the icon to