Justin would have wanted if he had lived to be an adult, and for the first time since that day in the park twenty-five years ago, she couldn’t give in to the fantasy that her brother might still be alive. She couldn’t summon an image of him as an adult, a living, breathing person who walked out of the park rather than meeting his death that day in the woods. She had lost something-she knew that for sure. She wasn’t certain yet if she had gained anything better to take its place.
They gathered at the graveside at nine o’clock, an attempt to beat the pounding heat. Janet stood next to Ashleigh beneath the thick canvas of the cemetery tent. The casket was small and covered with a spray of flowers. Janet had picked the casket out with Ashleigh’s help. They’d opted for something classy and understated.
Janet took a moment and looked around. Madeline was there, standing on Janet’s left along with a few others from the office, including the dean. Detective Stynes stood on the opposite side of the casket, his sunglasses clipped to the pocket of his sport coat. His face looked solemn and rigid. A few other friends stood around in a loose circle, including Ashleigh’s friend Kevin, who seemed uncomfortable in his tie and button-down shirt. The police didn’t make news of the reburial public, hoping to keep the media and any other curiosity seekers away from the cemetery. Janet didn’t mind the tiny crowd. She felt that her family had been in the public eye enough over the past few days. She would be happy to have an intimate service.
But as she looked at the small gathering under the tent, she noticed who wasn’t there. Michael. She remembered the crazed look in his eye a few nights earlier at Ray Bower’s house, the violence he had committed against his own father. Would she ever see him again?
She had even called Rose’s house, taking a chance that Michael might still be around and willing to attend the service. But before Rose even spoke Janet knew the answer. Michael was gone.
“I know what he did to his dad,” Rose said. “He hasn’t come back here. I suspect…” Her voice trailed off. “Well, I guess I don’t know when I’ll hear from him again. That’s Michael.”
Janet reached up and wiped a droplet of sweat off the side of her face. A man from the funeral home, dressed in a dark suit despite the heat, whispered to Janet that it was probably time to start. She nodded.
The priest began the service. He began with a welcome prayer, something he read out of a small, worn missal. While he spoke and continued with what was meant to be a brief service, Ashleigh leaned in against Janet’s body. Janet reached out her right arm and pulled her daughter close, felt Ashleigh return the favor by placing her left arm around Janet’s waist.
When was the last time her daughter had done that? Janet wondered.
She looked down at Ashleigh, still six inches shorter than she was. From that angle, it was easy for Janet to feel that Ashleigh was a little kid, one who needed comforting and sought it from her mother. It felt like years since they’d stood that way. Years. Janet pulled her daughter even closer and gave her a gentle peck on the top of the head.
“It’s okay,” Janet whispered. “I’m okay.”
Ashleigh looked up, even managing a half smile despite the occasion. “I know, Mom,” she said. “I know.”
Chapter Forty-five
Stynes lingered near the back of the crowd after the brief ceremony. He saw the grave diggers off to the side, one of them leaning against an earth mover, smoking a cigarette while he waited for the crowd to disappear so he could do his work. Stynes intended to offer his-what? — to Janet Manning. Condolences? Was that the right thing when someone had been dead for twenty-five years? He wasn’t sure what to say, so he decided to try for something neutral when the time came.
Janet spoke to a small group of women. Friends or coworkers, Stynes assumed. He noted that Janet hadn’t cried during the ceremony, instead choosing to hold tight to her daughter while the priest spoke. It didn’t surprise him. The woman had experienced quite a bit and was no doubt still processing the ton of bricks that had landed on her as the result of the DNA tests. Stynes wished he had something profound to say about all that, but he didn’t. Over the years he’d adopted a simple tactic with the victims of crimes and accidents: say as little as possible as sincerely as possible and then move on.
“Detective,” Janet said when she saw him. “Thank you for coming.”
“I wanted to,” Stynes said. “I’m-I hope you’re doing okay.”
Ashleigh stood by, watching their exchange, and the priest leaned close to the funeral director near the edge of the tent, where they talked to each other in low voices. Everyone else was gone, drifting away to their cars and on to their jobs and their lives.
Janet leaned in close to Stynes. “Is anything new with Ray Bower?” she asked.
Stynes nodded. “He’s doing better. The doctors say we can talk to him today or tomorrow.”
Janet nodded.
They faced each other in the heat, and Stynes felt Janet had something else she wanted to say.
“I was wondering,” she said. “I’m worried about Michael Bower.”
“Where is he?” Stynes asked.
“I don’t know. I think he must have left town. But he didn’t say anything to me before he left. I wonder about the toll all of this is taking on him.”
“Maybe he just needs to cool off and absorb everything that happened. I imagine you’re struggling to make sense of these things too.”
“There’s something about Michael,” Janet said. “I’ve known him my whole life. I’ve never seen him the way he was the other night.”
“Angry, you mean?”
“Out of control. I guess he’s been heading that way since he came back to town. He’s seemed…edgy. Anxious. Even though it was out of character for him to get violent with Ray, it didn’t completely surprise me. I sensed something building in him over the past couple of weeks.” Janet sighed. “Is he going to face any charges for what he did to Ray?”
“Ray would have to press them,” Stynes said. “And I have the feeling he’s going to have other things to think about besides that.”
Stynes looked past Janet’s shoulder. He saw a movement there, someone approaching through the headstones and stopping at a distance. He took the person for a gawker at first, then saw the intensity with which he appeared to be watching the scene. Something about his posture looked familiar to Stynes-
“I wanted to ask you a question about something else, Detective,” Janet said.
“What’s that?” Stynes asked, turning back.
“That man in the jail. I want to talk to him again.”
“You do? Why?”
“It’s hard to explain,” she said. “I want to know who he is and why he did what he did. I was so certain I knew him.”
Stynes took a quick look at the man in the distance and saw that he was turning away, perhaps heading to his car and leaving the cemetery.
“We can talk about it further.”
“I just need to know-”
Stynes walked away, looking back over his shoulder to say, “Call me. We’ll see.”
Stynes dodged tombstones, stepping carefully so as not to disrespect the ground he walked over, but also trying to catch up to the man he saw at the edge of the crowd. His task proved to be easy. The man walked with the aid of a cane, and long before he reached his car Stynes had caught up to him.
“Mr. Ludwig?” Stynes said.
The man stopped, his body freezing in place about ten steps from his car. He didn’t turn around, so Stynes approached him from behind and then went around between Ludwig and the car to talk.
“If you really didn’t want to talk to me,” Stynes said, “you wouldn’t have shown up here today.”
Ludwig smiled. “You’re very perceptive, Detective. But I guess that’s your job.”
The man looked older than when Stynes had first spoken to him-his cheeks more sunken, his skin paler and
