In the stacks of the library, Harry ran his finger along the spines of the college yearbooks. He really didn’t have to. He knew the book would be at the right end of the shelf, but he liked the feeling, like running a stick along a picket fence. Harry had never run a stick along a picket fence, but he had read about boys doing that in books when he was a kid and he had seen boys do it in movies and it struck him as an innocent and old-fashioned thing to do. He didn’t think about why he wanted to do something innocent and old-fashioned.
Harry came to the 2010 annual, which he took down from the shelf.
He flipped through the pages until he came to the T’s, where he found a photograph of Marian Turner, blond, pretty, similar to the woman who caught him in Marian Turner’s apartment.
But not her.
Harry ripped out the page.