JASON STARR - Panic Attack

She stood there, watching him talk, searching for some sign that would tell her whether he was guilty or innocent. He seemed appropriately upset, but did that mean anything? Wouldn’t he be acting upset either way? Either he was upset because her mom had been murdered or he was pretending to be upset to keep the act going. And if he was really crazy, if he was an actual psychopath, he’d be very good at faking his grief.

After about a minute he ended the call and said to her, “That was Stan. Jesus, this is so hard.”

For a few moments Marissa couldn’t think of anything to say- it was weird, she was actually scared to be near her father. Then she said, “I can make some calls, too, if you want me too.”

“No, no, it’s okay. Actually, I’ve almost called everybody I have to. Some friends are calling other friends, and I’ve gotten in touch with most of the relatives, grandma’s coming up tonight. I was afraid to tell her, with her heart condition, but what can you do? Oh, the funeral’s tomorrow morning at ten, by the way.”

Marissa wasn’t surprised that the funeral would be so soon. Although they were hardly a religious family, they followed some Jewish traditions, like burying the dead as soon as possible. Marissa’s grandfather had also been buried only a couple of days after he’d died.

Her father went on about how her mother would be buried in the family plot on Long Island and about the arrangements he’d made with the rabbi and the funeral home. “The only relative I’m not inviting is Mom’s brother,” he said. “I don’t think she’d want him here.”

“Yeah, I don’t think so either,” Marissa said.

Marissa had only met her uncle Mark a few times and hadn’t seen him in years, but apparently Mark had abused her mother when they were kids, and her mother had pretty much cut off all contact with him.

“This is still so surreal,” her father said. “I’m still expecting her to walk in here any second. When I heard your footsteps on the stairs before, at first I thought it was her.”

He looked like he was on the verge of tears, straining very hard to maintain his composure. Marissa still didn’t see any sign that this was a put- on, and she was feeling guilty for suspecting him, for losing faith in him, when he said, “Oh, so Clements called before, and unfortunately they haven’t made an arrest in the case yet.”

“What about Tony?” Marissa asked.

“He has an alibi, and apparently it’s airtight. I don’t know all the details, but Clements said he was with a friend at the time Mom was… Anyway, Clements said it rules him out, but I don’t believe it. If it’s a friend, how do we know the friend isn’t covering for him? But Clements said they’re looking at other possibilities, and what do you think that means? I can’t believe I have to deal with this while I’m in the middle of planning Mom’s funeral. I’ll tell you one thing, I’m not talking to him alone again. I’m not saying another word to him without my lawyer sitting right next to me. If I’d been thinking straight last night I would’ve hired a lawyer right away, put an end to this ridiculousness.”

Marissa was looking at her father closely, focusing on his eyes, trying to figure out if he was lying.

“And then I’m gonna have to deal with all of that media crap again,” her father continued, “with all of the sensational articles they’re writing.”

“It’s in the papers?” Marissa asked. She hadn’t even thought about this yet.

“I only checked the Post, the online edition, and yeah, it’s front page, and I’m sure it’s on the front page of all the other papers, too. In the Post story Clements called me a person of interest in the case. I understand why he has to check me out, but it’s so awful to lose your wife and then have to read that crap. Do you have any idea what this is going to do to my practice, to my career? I don’t even want to think about that yet or I won’t be able to get through the funeral and everything else. The reporters are still out there, and they can stay out there all day if they want to, but I’m not saying a word to them, and I don’t think you should either. This is total harassment now, and I’m gonna talk to my lawyer about this, too, see if there’s any kind of action I can take. You always hear about the media exploiting people, celebrities. You become immune to it, like it’s part of our culture, because you don’t think it can happen to you. You think it’s only something that happens to other people, that you’re protected, but you’re not. The thing is it can happen to anybody… Why’re you looking at me like that?”

“Like what?”

“I don’t know, you’re looking at me… strangely.”

“I was just thinking.”

“About what?”

“About how awful all of this is.”

Her father seemed incredulous, like he wasn’t buying this explanation, but then he said, “Oh, Clements talked to the Millers next door, and JoAnne said their dog was barking like crazy yesterday at around six thirty.”

“So?” Marissa asked.

“So,” her father said suddenly agitated, “the other day, before I found the note from Tony, when I came in the house the dog was barking, too. I thought it was a little unusual at the time. I mean, the dog knows us, right? He never barks at us.”

Marissa, distracted, barely paying attention, said, “I don’t get it.”

“It means Tony was here again.” Now her father was practically yelling, and Marissa, frightened, backed away a few steps. “The dog was barking both times, and we know Tony was here once, right? Clements said this sounds interesting, but I don’t think he really gets it. This is another thing I’m talking to my lawyer about, though. There have to’ve been other witnesses; somebody must’ve seen Tony coming or going. What’s wrong? Why’re you moving away from me?”

“I’m not,” Marissa said.

Her father glared at her, something in his eyes reminding her of the way he’d looked when he’d gleefully revealed his affair to her and her mother. Then he said to her, “You do believe me, don’t you?”

“Of course I believe you,” she said.

“I can’t believe it,” he said. “You don’t believe me, do you?”

“Hey,” Xan said.

She hadn’t seem him enter the dining room from behind her, and she was so startled she might’ve shrieked.

“Sorry,” Xan said. “Just wanted to see how you two were doing.”

Marissa held his hand, relieved he was here.“We were just… talking about the funeral,” she said. “It’s tomorrow morning.”

“If there’s anything I can do to help you out, just let me know,” Xan said to Adam.

“Thanks, but I think we’re okay,” Adam said, looking at Marissa. “At least I hope we are.”

Marissa and Xan went upstairs.

In her room, she whispered to him, “Oh my God, he did it. He really fucking did it.”

Johnny watched the couple get off the Coney Island- bound F train, and then he followed them down the long escalator and out to the street. The couple went past the convenience store at the corner and turned right. Johnny hung back for a block or two, until the couple reached an area that was darker and more deserted, and then he made his move.

He pulled down his black ski mask and started walking faster, until he was about twenty yards behind them; then, right when the guy looked back over his shoulder, Johnny sprinted toward them, holding his.38. Before the couple could run or yell for help or react at all, Johnny was pointing the gun at the guy’s face, saying, “Gimme the fuckin’ ring.”

Johnny had spotted the woman’s ring on the subway. It was a sparkly diamond engagement ring, looked like at least one carat. The woman was blond, blue- eyed, and, like most people in this part of Brooklyn nowadays, probably not a native New Yorker. She was probably from the Midwest, Kansas or some shit. No girl who grew up in the city would wear her engagement ring, diamond up, on the subway at eleven o’clock at night.