It was high summer, and even after nine o’clock in western Ohio a faint tint of pink remained at the horizon. They were just past the longest day of the year, and as Janet stepped outside into the warm night, she was aware of the slow unwinding of the days, the sense that summer could go on forever.
But she was old enough to know that it wouldn’t. Even then, the days were starting to reverse, the daylight growing incrementally shorter until it was time for Ashleigh to go back to school and time for the students to return to Cronin.
Would they know something by then? Would it all be resolved?
And if it was, what would life be like then in the absence of mystery?
Janet fumbled for her keys and approached her car. She wondered whether it was even worth it to see Michael, to tell him about the events of the day. She knew she would, of course. She wouldn’t be able to shut him out. But she also understood that he might not be ready to give her the kind of response she was hoping for. She wanted someone-Michael, in particular-to share her joy, her confusion, her fear, but he seemed too absorbed in his own feelings about his father to be there for anyone else.
Before Janet slipped into the car, headlights approached the house. The vehicle moved slowly, like someone searching for something. Janet felt her heart jump a little. As the car slowed even more at their house, she considered going back inside. But then in the disappearing light she saw the outline of the top of the car-a rack of lights and sirens.
Janet felt relief wash over her. The police.
They turned the interior light on in the car as Janet walked down the driveway. She leaned in, getting closer to eye level with the officer in the passenger seat. He was young, probably just out of college. His hair was cut short, making his head appear sleek and bullet-shaped.
“Evening, ma’am,” he said. “Are you Mrs. Manning?”
“Ms. Manning.”
“Is everything okay here?” the officer asked.
“Yes,” Janet said. “Why?”
She took a quick look at the cop in the driver’s seat. A female officer, her hair pulled back in a tight ponytail. She nodded at Janet.
“No worries, ma’am,” the first officer said. “Detective Stynes asked us to keep an eye on this house, so we saw you out here and wanted to check in.”
“I’m fine,” she said. “We’re all fine. My father and daughter are still in the house.”
“Just call us if you need anything.”
“Have you seen anything?” Janet asked. “There’s a man…”
“Detective Stynes told us. But we haven’t seen anybody. We’ll be patrolling all night.”
Janet felt relief as they drove away. Someone would be watching the house and the neighborhood once she was gone. She could put her mother’s guilt and fears aside-to some extent.
Janet walked back up the driveway, heading for her car. The crickets in the grass started chirping in greater numbers, and a few stars, low and bright, emerged in the growing darkness. Janet looked up at the house one more time, saw the TV glow in her father’s room, the soft light through the curtains in Ashleigh’s. It looked so normal, so peaceful. But had it ever felt that way to her? Had it ever felt like a safe, normal home?
Her hand hovered above the door handle, but before she gripped it the voice came from the darkness next to the house.
“Janet?”
Her body spun halfway toward the sound, releasing the handle. For a moment, she thought she imagined the call, but then she saw the shape of a man emerging from the darkness, moving toward the car. Janet looked to the front door. The angle of the man’s approach meant that if she ran, she might not make it past him.
Was it him? Was it the man from the porch?
“Who’s there?” she asked.
“It’s me,” the voice said.
Then she saw it-the familiar thin frame.
“Michael?”
He came closer and smiled a little. “It’s me,” he said again.
“Jesus. I was on my way to your house.”
“My mom’s house,” he said.
“Did you call here and find out where I was going?” she asked.
“No, I guess we’re just on the same wavelength tonight.” He smiled, the wattage turned up high. “There’s something I want to do. It’s easier this way.”
Janet’s heart calmed down, the rhythm easing from the bass drum pounding when she heard that voice in the dark.
“The police were just here,” she said. “They’re watching the house. If they’d seen you creeping around…”
“I saw them,” he said. “Why are they watching the house? Did something happen?”
“Oh, Jesus, Michael. So much. That’s what I wanted to come and tell you.”
He placed his hand on her arm. “Come on,” he said. “Let’s walk and talk at the same time.”
“Are you sure?” Janet stopped. Michael seemed distant, distracted. Despite the strength of the smile, something looked off. “Is something wrong?”
He let out a long breath. “I want to hear what happened to you,” he said. “And I have to tell you something. I just want to talk to you.”
So Janet followed along.
While they walked through the darkened streets, past homes that looked more comfortable with their porch lights burning and their kids tucked safely away in bed, Janet told Michael about the events of the day. She gave him a condensed version of Ashleigh’s adventure to the apartment complex-leaving out the details of the assault. When she told Michael that the man had a court summons with the name Justin Manning on it, Michael continued to walk by her side, but he kept his face turned away. He hadn’t said anything the whole time, hadn’t so much as grunted or acknowledged that Janet was even speaking. She didn’t know what to think or how to read his response, so when he continued to walk in silence for minutes after she stopped speaking, she said, “Well, what do you think of all this?”
He still took his time answering. They continued walking at a slow, easy pace until Michael abruptly stopped and turned to face her.
“I think it’s all bullshit, Janet.”
She stared at his face. They stood in the wash of a streetlight near the edge of the subdivision. Michael’s jaw was set hard, his eyes cold. He’d shown a similar response to the mention of the man on the porch when they spoke in the coffee shop, but he seemed even angrier and more agitated hearing about the man using Justin’s name. He still didn’t speak, and Janet got the sense he wasn’t ready to say anything else. But she wanted to hear from him. She’d sought him out for the sole purpose of sharing the news with him and seeing his reaction.
“Isn’t this good news, Michael?” she said. “Doesn’t this give us hope? I thought you’d be thrilled.”
“I’m not.”
“Can you tell me why?”
He took a step closer to her and reached out with both hands. He placed them on her upper arms, a gentle, affectionate gesture. “I don’t want to see you get hurt, Janet. In any way.”
“You mean because this guy might be dangerous?”
“That may very well be,” he said. “Some guy shows up spinning a tale about knowing the truth about the crime. But he won’t tell you the truth about it? Or he won’t go to the police?”
“Maybe he can’t. Maybe he’s not ready yet. Michael, I saw this man up close. I talked to him on campus. He seemed…disturbed in some way.”
“You see?”
“I don’t mean he’s dangerous.” Janet fumbled for the right words, but she knew that “disturbed” captured it best. And she also knew she wasn’t being completely honest with Michael. She didn’t know that the man was harmless. When she heard that voice calling her name outside the house in the dark, and she thought it was the man from the porch…she did feel afraid. But if he wanted to hurt her, why go to such elaborate lengths to talk to
