The Hiding Place

to answer the phone if I don’t want to.”

“I see that.” Stynes leaned back against the car. “You got a minute?”

“A minute. It’s almost lunchtime for the kids.”

“I was going to ask you if you wanted to go out and grab something to eat.”

“I can’t. What’s up?”

The day was hot, the sun high above in a cloudless sky. Stynes felt the heat against his scalp.

“You know all those loose ends with the Manning case?” Stynes said.

“Loose ends for you, you mean.”

“We had two pretty big loose ends. The stories told by the kids, and the questions about the whereabouts of Bill Manning on the morning of the murder. Not to mention the questions about Scott Ludwig.”

Reynolds looked at his watch. “You better hurry up and get to it.”

“I know those loose ends don’t really mean anything to you. Maybe it’s because you’re retired. I don’t know. I hope when I hang it up I’ll be able to walk away and turn the switch off as well as you have.”

“You won’t.”

“Why do you say that?”

“Because you’re different than me, Stynes. When my head hits the pillow late at night, I go right to sleep. I don’t give a shit that Dante Rogers says he’s innocent or that those kids told one story at the park and another later on. But not you. No, you’ve got to make sure everything is right with the world. I bet you’ve been sleeping like crap, haven’t you?”

Stynes didn’t answer. He didn’t have to. Reynolds had pegged him.

Reynolds said, “I bet you stared at your bedroom ceiling so long you started to see cracks in the plaster you didn’t know were there, right? Well, you can do that with any case. Stare long enough until you see all the imperfections. It doesn’t change the facts, though.” Reynolds looked like he wanted to say more, but he swallowed the additional words, whatever they were going to be. “Do me a favor? Don’t come back here anymore. Don’t drag your bullshit onto my lawn.”

As he started to turn away, Stynes said, “We’re searching for a man right now.”

Reynolds stopped.

“He’s using Justin Manning’s name and carrying his identification,” Stynes said. “He’s wanted for assault in Columbus. He beat up a social worker over there, someone associated with child protective services.”

Reynolds raised his hands. So?

Stynes decided he didn’t really know why he had come to Reynolds’s house after all. He knew he wasn’t going to change his former partner’s mind. He knew Reynolds wouldn’t concede any fault or fallibility. He never had.

“You know, you’re right,” Stynes said.

“About what?”

“I’m not going to come back here anymore.”

“Good.”

“But I do want to say something to you. I want to apologize to you.”

Reynolds looked puzzled. He tilted his head to the left, almost like he didn’t believe the words he heard coming his way. “What for?”

“I should have been a better cop,” Stynes said. “I should have been a better partner to you. You said I did a good job back then, but I didn’t. I should have stood up to you. I should have asked the tough questions. That’s what I was supposed to do, and I didn’t. But I’m going to ask them now, and we’ll see what happens.”

Reynolds waited a long moment, then said, “Are you finished, Oprah?”

“With you, yes.”

“Good.” Reynolds pointed to the car. “Then get the fuck out of here before I beat your scrawny ass.”

Stynes got into the car and started the ignition. As he drove off, he looked back one more time. He watched Reynolds trudging across the lawn, his body a little bent, his posture that of a man in the last phase of his life. Then Stynes caught a glimpse of himself in the rearview mirror, saw the lines around his eyes, the old-man sweat on his forehead.

“You’re almost there,” he told himself. “But not quite yet.”

Chapter Thirty-four

Janet was surprised to look up from her desk and see Kate Grossman, the reporter from the Dove Point Ledger, entering the dean’s office shortly after lunch. Kate waved to Janet and started across the room toward her, and as she did, Janet realized she was about to speak to the only reporter in town who went to work in a skirt and high heels.

Kate’s face lit up as she approached Janet, and she held her hand out for a businesslike shake.

“It’s so good to see you again, Ms. Manning.”

“Janet. Remember?”

“Of course. Sorry. I still feel like a kid, you know?”

Janet couldn’t imagine what the reporter wanted with her. Follow-up questions? Another story? Her dad would love that. And Janet’s curiosity only rose higher when Kate leaned in a little closer and asked if the two of them could speak somewhere in private.

“Sure,” Janet said.

Madeline watched the proceedings from her desk, not even trying to disguise her curiosity about the visitor. Janet didn’t stop to explain but simply told Madeline that she’d be back in a few minutes. She led Kate Grossman out of the dean’s office and across the hall to a seldom-used conference room. They went inside, and once Janet had closed the door, the two women sat next to each other at one end of the table.

“What is this about?” Janet asked. During the short walk to the conference room, Janet had reminded herself not to get worked up and not to engage in too much speculation about the nature of Kate’s visit. But she couldn’t control her own reactions. Janet imagined a little bit of everything and then some before she sat down. She didn’t want to wait while Kate warmed up to the topic.

“I have some good news for you,” Kate said.

“What?”

Did they find Justin? Is it him?

Is it over?

Kate smiled. “We received a lot of positive feedback regarding the stories we ran about your brother’s murder. More letters and e-mails than we normally get.”

Kate paused briefly. She seemed to want Janet to say something to this, so Janet said, “That’s great. What are you here to tell me?”

Kate looked a little disappointed. She appeared to want more praise, or a more detailed discussion of her reportorial skills. When it didn’t come, she went on. “A lot of people were moved by your plight. Anyway, this morning, we received something in the mail at the newspaper office. Something addressed to you.”

“What is it?”

“We’re not sure,” Kate said. “We didn’t open it.”

“Then how do you know it’s good news?”

Kate didn’t miss a beat. “I have a positive feeling.” She bent down and reached into her oversized purse. When she came up, she held an envelope out to Janet. “See?”

Indeed, it was an envelope addressed to Janet, care of the Ledger. A plain white business envelope. Janet wasn’t sure what to think, and she didn’t understand why Kate Grossman would show up making such a production out of what was probably a note of support or some crank’s speculations about what really happened to Justin.

Janet studied the address. It was printed, not handwritten. The postmark said Dove Point, but the envelope lacked a return address.