David Bell - The Hiding Place

Dante resumed stuffing envelopes. He didn’t even look up.

Stynes stopped by Reverend Arling’s office on the way out. The reverend had his head bent over the computer screen, the glasses again perched on the end of his nose. He looked up when Stynes knocked on the doorjamb.

“Ah,” the reverend said. “Done hassling the brother, are we?”

“His PO might come by and follow up.”

“There’s nothing to find.”

“I have a feeling that if you keep Dante around, there will just be more of these visits.”

“Jesus ate with the lepers and the tax collectors,” the reverend said. “I can handle one wayward brother in my church. But you know what is interesting, Detective? You come here to hassle Dante, but does anyone hassle you about what ran in that newspaper story?”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean that Dante has done his time, paid his debt, but still you come around. Meanwhile, no one questions that all-white jury, that circumstantial evidence at the trial. Why isn’t Dante afforded the same consideration as a white police detective?”

Stynes had a lot of things he could have said, most of them not appropriate for the confines of a church. He chose to walk away. “Save it for the pulpit, Reverend.”

“That’s right,” Arling said. “Walk away. You won’t even address the crime being committed against me. This hardworking church’s dollars being siphoned away.”

But Stynes was through the side door and on his way to the car. The heat pressed against his scalp and the back of his neck. He opened the car door, slipped off his jacket, and tossed it onto the backseat.

Three hundred dollars? Was it worth it to go back for three hundred dollars?

“Shit.”

Stynes reached into the backseat and grabbed his pen and pad. He walked back to the church, the sweat popping out on his skin.

He couldn’t wait for the day he could just walk away and stay away.

Janet spent her morning at work and the day before that not thinking about Michael. She attended a campus-wide meeting of office managers. She met with her boss, Dean Higgins, briefly about writing ad copy in order to hire two new work-study students for the fall semester. She answered the usual never-ending stream of e-mail.

And in spare moments-a short bathroom break, a quick visit to the break room for a cup of yogurt-she pushed Michael out of her mind, reminding herself always that she was no longer sixteen and no longer looking to date the coolest guy in school. Sure, Michael still looked good despite the signs of aging and, sure, she still turned flutter-hearted just being in his presence. But Janet knew who she was-a working single mother with a larger mission in life, one that didn’t involve men. She needed to worry about raising her daughter, excelling at her work. Moving forward.

And while she-mostly-managed not to think about any romantic possibilities with Michael, she couldn’t stop thinking about what he’d told her and she’d told him:

Michael thought he saw his father, Ray Bower, in the woods the day Justin died.

In and of itself, Janet wouldn’t have thought much of the revelation. The Bowers lived close to the park, so maybe Ray was there. Or Michael could have been mistaken, conflating some other memory from his childhood with the day Justin died.

But Janet had told Michael about the man from the porch, and if there was someone else-even this man from the porch-who claimed that the events of that day didn’t happen the way everyone thought, then maybe there was something to it, something to be explored more fully.

And Janet hadn’t even spent much time factoring in the questions asked by the newspaper reporter-

“There you are.”

Janet looked up from her desk. Her mind was drifting too far, letting thoughts that didn’t belong at work grab too strong a hold in her brain.

Madeline stood before her, and as strange as it seemed, Janet wanted to thank her for the diversion, for getting her mind away from problems she couldn’t solve.

“Here I am,” Janet said.

“You seem distracted,” Madeline said. “Ready for lunch?”

“Lunch?” Janet looked at her desk calendar. Lunch with Madeline. Once a week the two of them walked to the student center together and either grazed the salad bar-if they were being good-or joined the students in eating the hamburger and fries special if they felt indulgent. Janet suspected today would be a hamburger and fries day.

She needed it. Hell, she even thought she deserved it.

“Let me grab my purse,” Janet said.

They walked across the mostly quiet midsummer campus. Scattered students went by, those taking summer classes, and occasionally they passed a faculty member in their warm-weather wardrobes-shorts and Birkenstocks, pale legs flashing in the sun like the bellies of beached fish. When she felt she had the time, Janet took classes. She had completed half the hours required for a bachelor’s degree in history and needed to get back to it. Ashleigh would be gone in a few years, off to college herself, and Janet considered her next, longer-term life project. Finish the bachelor’s and then what? Try for a master’s? Why not?

“I can’t stop thinking about that article.” Madeline held her hand over her heart, like she was about to pledge allegiance. “Heartbreaking,” she said. “Just heartbreaking. I had no idea your mother and brother weren’t buried next to each other.” Madeline acted as though she should have been consulted about it because she-and she alone-could have prevented it in the first place. “What are we going to do about this?”

“We?” Janet asked.

“Yes. Have you looked into moving one of them?”

“Justin would have to be moved. The plots on either side of him are taken.”

“Okay. And there’s an empty spot next to your mom?”

“Yes, but it’s not that easy. You need to pay for the reburial. You have to buy a new casket.”

“We do have wet weather here. That can cause damage.”

“Believe me, I’ve looked into it, and we can’t afford it right now. It’s just-it’s a dream, that’s all.”

They ate their burgers at a small table out of the way. The food tasted better than it had any right to. Janet knew she was feeding her emotions, but she didn’t care. Like she said to herself, she deserved the little indulgence. Janet ate quickly, not saying much, which she knew would activate Madeline’s radar.

It did-in the form of a motherly hand on Janet’s arm.

“Honey,” Madeline said, “I saw who was in that parking lot the day before yesterday. I know who you were talking to. Is he back in town for good?” Madeline asked.

“I don’t even think he knows the answer to that question.”

“He was always a good-looking one.” Madeline sighed as though Michael were the great lost love of her life. “I know you always had a thing for him.”

“Every girl in the school did.”

“So.” Madeline grinned like a naughty child. She scooted forward in her seat. “You can tell me. Did you and he ever-you know? When you were young?”

Janet smiled. Despite Madeline’s busybody tendencies, Janet liked having a friendship with an older woman. She liked to imagine that her relationship with her own mom would have developed this way as they both grew older-shared confidences, passed on wisdom. Would she have that with Ashleigh someday? Janet wondered. She knew mother-daughter relationships changed with time and the easing of adolescent tensions, but it was hard to picture herself engaging in girl talk with Ashleigh. Did Ashleigh engage in girl talk with anyone?

“No,” Janet said. “Never. I wanted to. As long as I knew him, ever since we were little, I wanted to be his girlfriend. But I always just followed in his wake, I guess. It would have been awkward, I suppose, with our families knowing each other so well.”