In the Company of Liars

ONE DAY EARLIER
THURSDAY, MAY 6

Countryside. Apple. Riordan. Yellow.

Countryside Grocery Store. Corner of Apple and Riordan. Delivery entrance in back. Yellow post.

Ram Haroon is vaguely aware of this grocery chain in the Midwest, and he knows Riordan Avenue. But he doesn’t know Apple Street. He has to stop and ask for directions. He would prefer not to make a point of asking anyone, but he’s out of options. Riordan Avenue extends from the lake to the suburbs. Apple Street could intersect anywhere along that route. The store is probably close to Allison Pagone’s home but he simply doesn’t know. He thought of going on the internet to find all the Countryside locations, or even to use MapQuest, but that leaves a trail. Sloppy. There is not even a single piece of paper with this information, because he has memorized it.

Countryside. Apple. Riordan. Yellow.

But now, having avoided all paper trails, he is forced to ask a convenience-store clerk for the information. Not ideal, especially when it turns out he’s only a couple of blocks away from his destination.

So he finds it, finally. There is a small bank across the street from it. He chooses to park in that empty lot, in a position where he is facing the grocery store. He takes a while, a good five minutes, and looks over the store. The lights are out. The parking lot is empty. It’s half past eleven, and the store has presumably long been closed.

After another five minutes have passed, he pops the trunk and gets out of the car. Inside the trunk, in a gym bag, are a small hand-shovel and two plastic freezer bags. He puts on his brown gardening gloves, which will serve a dual purpose here.

Delivery entrance. Yellow.

Haroon goes to the back of the store, the delivery entrance as promised. Large double doors, a metal ramp running up to an elevated dock, level with the back doors. The rear of the building is spacious and well lit, two characteristics that he would prefer were otherwise. An old wire fence runs along the border of the property, propped up by several posts.

One of them, not far from the ramp, is the only one painted yellow.

He walks over to that spot and feels around with his hands to no avail. He places his shovel cautiously into the ground and digs softly until he hits something solid.

And then he smiles.