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lonely childhood is hard to get over, isn’t it? When I was a little kid all I wanted was to grow up as fast as I could and go somewhere else and now all I want is to go back, have a “do-over” in a different place with a different family. You can get past a bad childhood, is what I think now, you can have a “good life,” but you’ll never stop wanting a good childhood and you can’t have one later, there’s no way.
    You and me, we’re both real quiet. My wife is always after me to talk more. She says, cat got your tongue and penny for your thoughts, until I tell her, baby, you don’t even want to know.
    I don’t solve mysteries, but I’ve done okay for myself. I own a gas station and bait shop that I got all on my own, nobody helped me with that, and now I’m saving for a boat. I get to live all year round in a place lots of people come for vacation. It’s all about saving your money and having a plan. Anyway, I just wanted you to know there is someone out there who “gets you.”
    Sincerely yours,
Bob Cronin
    Â 
    Ps. I read a lot of books when I was a kid, because it was a good escape, not because anyone ever encouraged me. I used to think the characters in them were real people. I know you’re not real, but you seem real to me. I think my life would be a good book and maybe even encourage other kids like me to make something of themselves. B.C.
    In pencil on wide-ruled paper:
    In the most boring house
    On the most boring street
    In the most boring town
    In the world.
    Dear Mr. Lane:
    I am ten years old and I can’t check your books out at the library, because they’re in the adult section. The adults where I live care a whole lot about what kids shouldn’t read. If there was ever a real murder here, they would just die! But surprise! I read you anyway, because I have my ways. What do you think about kids who are allowed to watch you on tv, but not allowed to read your books? I know a family like that!
    Respectfully yours,
Amanda Chan
    In black ink, Eaton stationery:
    March 17, 1985
    Â 
    Dear Max,
    I know you’re not ready to hear this yet, but you’re better off without her. She was never good enough for you and I’m not the only one who thinks so. You know what would make you feel better? Hair of the dog and fish in the sea. You tell A.B. Early that it’s past time you had a new girlfriend. You tell her that there are readers out there who care about you and want you to be happy. I mean, it’s really up to her, isn’t it? The rest of us, we can spend ten years thinking we have this great marriage and aren’t we the lucky one, didn’t we just do everything right? And then it turns out we don’t have a friend in the world our husband didn’t try to screw at some barbecue or back-to-school night, and no one said a word about it to us so we were the only one in town who didn’t know. Real life is no story; it’s just what happens. But you can be happy any time Ms. Early chooses. So it’s annoying when she doesn’t and I won’t keep reading your books forever if you’re always going to be so mopey. If I were in charge, I’d start with your mouth and keep you guessing about what’s coming next.
    You need me, but you don’t need to know my name . . .
    Rima supposed this fell into the category of inappropriate proposals. She hoped they wouldn’t all be so vague.
    The effort required to read the handwritten letters was getting to her, so she fished through the box for something typed. And found, on an onionskin paper so thin some of the periods were holes, the final page of a longer letter. The first thing she saw was her father’s name.
    someone else with motive and opportunity. So here it is—I just don’t believe Bim Lanisell would kill anyone. He always seemed like a pretty straight-up Joe to me. Think you got it wrong this time.
    Bet if you put poison