“It wasn’t long before you came,” she said. “I remember what you were wearing. I can see that. Shorts and a long belt.”
“I remember that belt.” He smiled.
“Yeah. It was goofy.” Janet paused a moment, then went on. “I saw Dante with Justin. I saw him talking to him. And I think I saw him carrying Justin on his shoulders. Way up high.”
“Right. I thought I remembered that, too.”
“But you don’t?”
“I don’t know,” he said.
“What do
He paused a long time, drawing the moment out like a good actor would. He rubbed his chin with his right hand. “I think Justin ran away. Don’t you? I think I remember him running into the woods.”
“Are you sure? I don’t remember him running away. I don’t really remember anything that happened after he was on Dante’s shoulders. I don’t even know what order those memories come in.”
Michael had a look of focus on his face. He didn’t seem to hear Janet’s words. “I think he ran away and into the woods. There was a dog in the park, not much bigger than a puppy. And a bunch of the kids were playing with it. And Justin was fascinated by that dog.”
“He loved dogs,” Janet said. “I remember that. He wanted one. We both did, but my parents didn’t want one. My dad always said he’d end up taking care of it.”
“That dog ran off into the woods eventually. And Justin went after it, trying to catch it. And I have a very clear memory of running after Justin, like I wanted to bring him back to where he was supposed to be.”
“Was it in the direction…they found him back there…?”
“It was,” Michael said. “He ran toward the woods where they found his body, and I went that way, too.”
“And what happened?”
“I went into the woods after him,” Michael said. “I remember going down that path, past that little pond, following him. I remember the voices from the playground growing fainter and more distant.”
“You were in the woods right then, right before…”
A long pause settled over the conversation. Janet didn’t realize it, but she had gathered a paper napkin into her hand and was slowly, surely grinding it between her thumb and forefinger, turning the napkin into small, pulpy balls that littered the tabletop. When she noticed the mess, she stopped and brushed the napkin pieces aside, behind the little dish that held sugar packets and artificial sweeteners.
Janet looked at him. “What is it, Michael? What did you want to tell me?”
“I told you I’ve been to therapy to try to remember things about that day.”
“Sure.”
“There’s something I’ve been able to remember, something I’ve never told anyone else.”
“What is it?” she asked.
He swallowed once, his Adam’s apple bobbing. Janet became aware of the tension in her own muscles. They felt taut as steel cables waiting for Michael’s words.
“I think my dad was there in the woods that day. I saw him when I went in there after Justin and the dog.”
The noise in the coffee shop stopped. People were still moving. The waitress wandered from table to table. The teenagers nearby continued to play. But Janet didn’t hear them. She concentrated on Michael’s face, locked in on him as she processed his words.
“But that’s not possible, Michael,” Janet said. “Your father wasn’t there. He wasn’t in the park that day. Or in the woods.”
“He was, Janet. I can picture it.”
“What was he doing?” she asked.
“I don’t know. That part isn’t clear. But I feel very certain about this, Janet. My father was there in the woods. He was there the day Justin died.”
Even though she hadn’t seen Michael for years, since he’d moved away immediately after high school, and even though they had rarely spoken in that time, Janet still trusted Michael almost as much as anyone else she knew. She felt she could tell him anything, and he would listen without judgment.
“Michael.” She picked up another napkin and went to work on it. “There’s something I want to say, too, something about Justin.”
The room still felt still and quiet, a bubble that enclosed them both. Michael nodded, encouraging her to go on.
“That man who came to the house,” she said. “His face-it’s frozen in my mind. All I have to do is close my eyes, and I can see him. Every detail, even though I only saw him once.” She stopped working on the napkin. “There’s something familiar about his face. The shape of it, the color of his hair. The shape of his eyes and the prominence of his chin. I see my dad there, Michael, when I think of that face. I see Justin.”
“Justin?” Michael looked confused. “Where are you going with this?”
“Michael, sometimes I think, I really, really think that man who came to the door? I think that man is Justin. He didn’t die that day in the woods, and he’s back to tell us all what happened.”
“Oh, Janet,” he finally said.
“You think I’ve lost it. You think I’m mad with grief and guilt-”
“No, no, I didn’t say that at all. I think it’s natural that you have a lot of emotions connected to this, Janet. It’s a huge rent in your life.”
“But?”
She felt her cheeks flush-embarrassment this time and not desire. How awful to be embarrassed in front of Michael. She didn’t want that. Never that. Even after all those years, she still couldn’t help but feel he was the cool kid she had to impress.
“Think about what you’re saying,” he said. “You saw this man once.”
“How is what I’m saying any less valid than what you said about your dad?”
“There was a body, Janet. They found a body in the woods. Right in those woods Justin ran into. I’m not trying to be dismissive, but is it really possible?”
Michael’s words restored some reality. They were a splash of cold water against her face. What was she thinking? Michael was right-they’d found a body. They’d had a funeral. Everyone else had moved on, years ago.
What had she seen in that face? A real resemblance? Or did she simply see what she wanted to see? Could her memory of that man’s face be trusted any more than Michael’s memory of his father in the woods?
Janet felt tired all of a sudden. The day had whipped her-the reporter, Michael’s return, the conversation with Stynes, the fight with Ashleigh. Work waited for her in the morning, and she contemplated doing something she never did-taking a personal day and spending the entire day in bed.
She knew she wouldn’t. But it sounded tempting.
“I should go,” she said. “It’s late.”
Janet dug in her purse for her wallet. She tossed some bills onto the table, intending to cover the cost of Michael’s coffee as well as her tea.
“We can talk about this more, Janet. I want to.”
“Of course.”
“I think we both have a lot we’re working through from that day.”
“I’ll call you,” Janet said.
She stood up, expecting him to walk out with her or at least make sure she made it to her car safely. But Michael stayed seated. As she turned to go, he signaled the waitress and asked for a refill.
Chapter Twelve
The desk officer approached Stynes, who was hunched over his keyboard entering reports from the last two days. He hadn’t had a spare moment to get caught up, and he’d entered the station that morning-early, before anyone else had arrived-with only one thought in mind:
