David Baldacci - First Family

"Well, she didn't tell us about anyone bothering her, or stalking her. She led a very normal life. Friends, golf, gardening. There are no psychopaths that I know of running around here."

"That's the thing about psychopaths, Doug, with the really crazy ones, you never see them coming until they've stuck a knife in your heart," she said.

He mumbled a hasty goodbye, and then Doug the steady almost ran back into the house. They heard the lock click into place.

As they were walking to the SUV Michelle said, "Do you think it was just a robbery that went down wrong?"

"It might be."

They climbed in the SUV. "You feel like some food?" she said. "I know a place."

Ten minutes later they were seated in a small restaurant and had ordered.

Sean said, "Okay, the cops worked the garage area and found no trace. The garage overhead door was down and the exit door from the garage onto the side yard was locked. But the killer could have secured it on the way out. It was just a simple button lock."

"So anybody could have gone in, waited for her, killed her, and left that way. The ground was dry, no footprints."

"And there was a privacy fence on the garage side. More concealment."

She said, "ME reported the window of death was between eight and nine. You think someone would have seen something. Or maybe heard Mom crying out when she was attacked?"

Sean looked thoughtful. "But the noise from the pool party would have drowned out anything like that." He added, "I take it they've all been interviewed? The folks at the party?"

"I guess so." She studied him. "Why, what are you thinking?"

"I'm thinking if I wanted to kill someone I'd get myself invited to that party, slip out, do the deed, and slip back in."

"I thought of that too, but you would have had to know that my mom was going to be going out, that she'd be in the garage at that time."

"Not necessarily. They might have entered through the garage side door and were planning to go into the house when your mom came out and saved them the trouble."

"That's still risky, Sean. My dad was home. He's a former cop and keeps a gun in the house too. Like Donna said, it's a small community. Folks would know that."

Sean sat back, lost in thought. Their food came and they ate mostly in silence.

"Can I ask you a favor?" she said as they were leaving.

"One can always ask," he said, smiling.

Her next words drove the smile away.

"When I was a little girl, we lived about two hours south of here in a little rural slice of Tennessee. I want to go back there. I need to go back there right now."

THEY PULLED OFF the main road and the SUV's tires bit down hard on the crushed gravel. Sean was driving and had followed Michelle's precise directions.

"When was the last time you were here?" he said.

She was staring straight ahead. A curve of moon provided the only illumination other than the truck's headlights. "When I was a kid."

He looked surprised. "If that's the case, how did you remember how to get here? Did you look it up?"

"No. I… I just knew. I don't know how."

He looked over at her, a frown creasing his face. A curious mixture of emotions swept across her features. He could see heightened expectations. And he could also see fear. The latter was not something he normally associated with the lady.

They pulled down a dark street, revealing a neighborhood that had been brand-new about sixty years ago. The houses were falling in, the front porches far off plumb, and the yards a tangled mass of weeds and diseased trees and bushes.

"Seen better days," she said.

"Looks that way," he replied quietly. "Which one is it?"

She pointed up ahead. "That one. The old farmhouse, only one like it on this street. The rest of the neighborhood was carved from that property."

Sean pulled the SUV to a stop in front. "Doesn't look like anyone lives here now," he said.

She made no move to get out.

"What now?" he finally asked her.

"I don't know."

"You want to get out, go up for a look? We came all this way."

She hesitated. "I guess so."

They walked up the worn path. The house was set well off the street. There was an old tire attached to a rotting coil of rope that was tied to the one remaining limb of a dying oak. An old wheelless truck sitting on cinderblocks was parked in the side yard. The screen door was lying on the sagging front porch.

As they passed one spot, Michelle stopped and stared at the remains of some bushes. They'd been cut down to the point where only bare sticks were left. There was an entire line of them.

"It was a hedge," Michelle said. "Forgot what kind. We woke up one morning and it was gone. My dad had planted it for one of their anniversaries. After they got whacked down, it never grew back. I think whoever did it poured some plant killer or something on it."

"Ever find out who did it?"

She just shook her head and continued walking to the house. They stepped over the screen door and Michelle tried the doorknob. It turned easily. Sean put a hand over hers. "You sure you want to do this?"

"We came all this way. And I doubt I'll ever come back."

He removed his hand and they walked in. The place was empty and filthy.

Sean had grabbed a flashlight from the SUV and now swung it around, revealing ragged blankets, food wrappers, empty beer bottles, and more than a dozen used condoms.

"Not exactly one for the memory books," she murmured, taking all of this in.

"Walks down memory lane usually aren't. It's hardly ever as good as you remember."

She eyed the stairs.

He followed her gaze. "Which bedroom was yours?"

"Second on the right."

"Want to head up?"

"Maybe later."

They walked around the main floor, taking in more trash and rot, and Sean noticed that Michelle didn't really register on anything. She pushed open the back door and stepped outside. More trash, the carcass of the truck in the side yard, and a leaning one-bay garage with its overhead door gone, revealing a mound of junk inside.

It was all pathetic and depressing and Sean could barely stand being here. He didn't quite know how Michelle was able to keep from running away screaming.

"So what are we doing here?" he asked.

She sat down on the back porch. He stood beside her.

"Did you ever go back to the place where you grew up?"

"Once," he said.

"And?"

"No grand revelations. Other than everything being a lot smaller than I remember, which makes perfect sense because I'm a lot bigger now. So I just saw the house and kept on driving."

"I'd like to do that. See the house and keep on driving."

"Let's go then." He reached in his pocket, pulled out the keys to the SUV, and flipped them to her. "You can do the honors."

They walked back through the house; she paused at the stairs.

"Michelle, you don't have to beat yourself up about this."

She started up the stairs.

"You sure about this?" he said.

"No," she said, but kept on going.

They reached the wide landing and stopped. There were four doors, two on each side.

"So the second one there was yours?" He pointed to the right.

She nodded.

Sean moved to open the door but she stopped him.

"Don't."

He pulled back, looked at her. "Maybe we should leave."

She nodded, but as he stepped down the hall, she abruptly turned back, gripped the knob on the second door, and opened it.

And screamed as the man stood there staring at her.

Then he pushed past Michelle and raced by Sean, clattering down the stairs and out the busted screen door.

Michelle was shaking so badly that Sean gave up all thoughts of going after the guy. He raced to Michelle and held her. When she finally settled down he drew away. They stared at each other, no doubt the same question on each other's mind.