David Bell - The Hiding Place

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.”

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.

“Go ahead and open it,” Kate said.

But Janet didn’t move right away. She thought about taking the envelope back to her desk and opening it away from Kate Grossman. Or maybe just throwing it in the trash. Did she need to know anything else?

But Janet turned it over and started to slip her index finger under the sealed flap.

“Just one second,” Kate said.

Janet looked up.

“I know it’s weird, but I brought a camera with me. Would you mind if I-?”

“Yes, I’d mind.”

Janet completed the work of opening the envelope and looked inside. She didn’t see much. Just a white piece of paper. She drew it out and unfolded the sheet.

Dear Ms. Manning,

In response to your stated request to see your late brother and mother buried side by side, please accept a donation of $10,000 for that purpose, which has been placed into a fund in your name at Dove Point Farmers Bank and Trust.

With our sympathies.

“Well?” Kate asked.

Janet didn’t respond. She didn’t know what to say. She turned the paper over. It was blank on the back. The whole thing seemed like a joke. Was it some sort of crank attempting to mess with her again?

“Oh, God, Ms. Manning,” Kate said. “Is it something awful? Did someone say something nasty to you?”

“Why did you come in here and say you had good news?” Janet asked. “Do you know what this says?”

Kate shook her head. She really did look young, like a kid who thought she might be in trouble. “I don’t know,” she said. Her shoulders sagged, and she lost the shiny, confident smile. “See, my editor thought coming and watching you open the letter personally would make a good follow-up story. I guess we were just hoping it would be good news.”

“Hoping?”

“Is it? Or is it something bad?”

Janet folded the letter and tucked it back into the envelope. “I need to call the bank.”

“Here, use my phone.”

“I don’t know the number.”

“It’s a smartphone. I’ll look it up.”

Janet told her who to call, and within a few minutes Janet was speaking with the branch manager. She explained who she was and asked if he could tell her anything over the phone about something being opened in her name.

The manager seemed circumspect at first, reluctant to give out too much information. But Janet insisted.

“If this is some kind of sick joke, then I have to call the police,” Janet said. “Do I need to call the police?”

After a short pause, the manager said, “No, you don’t have to call the police. This isn’t a joke at all, Ms. Manning. No joke at all.”