There were footprints through the snow that still covered the front walk and the steps were so icy as he walked up on the front porch that he grabbed for the railing to keep his balance. He had to ring several times before Mrs.
Shay answered the door. She seemed sightly disoriented and frowned as she looked up at him as if he were a complete stranger, which, considering how seldom they had seen each other, was not that far from the truth.
“Yes?”
“I’m Dwight, Mrs. Shay. Cal’s dad. Is Jonna here?”
“Here?” Mrs. Shay looked around in bewilderment. “I don’t think so.” Then her face cleared. “Dwight? Oh my goodness, come in out of this cold. What are you doing up here? Nothing’s wrong with Cal, is there?”
“No, ma’am, he’s fine. I just had lunch with him at the school, but I’m trying to find Jonna and she doesn’t seem to be answering her phone.”
“I know, dear. That’s been worrying me, too. She hasn’t called since yesterday morning and that’s just not like her. She always calls me every morning, but not today. And the young man who usually shovels my snow hasn’t come either. I’ve had a terrible time getting in and out.”
“Was everything all right when she got home last night?”
“Was she out last night?”
“Of course she was. You sat with Cal.”
His former mother-in-law was shaking her head. “No, I played bridge with my Thursday night group last night.”
“But Cal said you were there. He called me. He said you had fallen asleep.”
Mrs. Shay frowned. “Now why on earth would he tell you a story like that?”
C H A P T E R
4
Friday afternoon, 21 January
Angry that Jonna would have left Cal alone even for a couple of hours, Dwight drove back to her house. This was an older established neighborhood of tidy, single-family homes sheltered by tall oaks and maples. More trees lined the strip of grass between sidewalk and pavement. Their branches were bare now, but in the summer they met overhead to provide a welcome shade. It was like driving through a green tunnel.
Today, the street had been plowed and low banks of snow pushed up against the tree trunks. The sidewalks themselves were clear and cars were parked along the sunny side, but not one of them was Jonna’s. Her drive was unshoveled except where it crossed the sidewalk to the street, and he could see that her Honda had stood there during Wednesday night’s snowfall because of the car-shaped bare spot on the concrete. Her front walk and 4 step were clear of snow, though. Again, he went up on the porch to ring and then pound on the door.
This time, from far inside, he heard the bark of Cal’s dog Bandit, so named for the comical patch of brown fur over his eyes. The smooth-haired terrier was kept caged during the day whenever they were out.
Dwight walked around to the side entrance and saw that a narrow footpath had been shoveled out to the car.
He opened the gate and stepped inside. Paw prints tracked across the snowy yard to where Bandit had gone to do his business among the bushes at the rear of the yard. More paw prints mingled with those of Cal’s boots around the base of a half-finished snowman.
Dwight peered through the door window, and Bandit danced up and down in the big wire crate, whining hopefully.
“Sorry, guy,” Dwight muttered and turned to see a suspicious face looking at him from a side window in the house next door.
He and Jonna mostly limited their infrequent conversations to Cal, and if she had ever mentioned her neighbor’s name, he could not recall it; but he went up to the hedge that divided the two driveways and gestured for the older man to open his window, which he grudgingly did, if only for a narrow crack.
“Yeah?”
“I’m looking for Jonna Bryant. I’m Cal’s dad.”
“Yeah?”
“Could you tell me when she left?”
The man pursed his lips and glared at Dwight. “I don’t make it my business to keep tabs on my neighbors.”
“I appreciate that sir, but—”
“And I don’t stand around with my windows wide open in the middle of January either.”
“But—”
“Sorry. I can’t help you.”
And with that, the old man pulled the window firmly shut and pushed down the latch for good measure.
It took a couple of false starts, but Shaysville was not that big, and eventually Dwight fumbled his way over to
