Harlan Coben - Caught

"I'm going to confess something to you, okay?"

Jenna nodded, waited.

"I work with facts, not intuition. Intuition usually just screws me up. Do you know what I mean?"

"More than you can imagine."

There were tears in Jenna's eyes now. Wendy imagined that they were in hers too.

"Factually I knew that I had Dan nailed. He tried to seduce my imaginary thirteen-year-old girl online. He showed up at the house. There was all that stuff in his house and on his computer. Even his job-I can't tell you how many of these creeps work with teenagers, supposedly helping them. It all added up. And yet my intuition kept screaming that something was wrong."

"You sounded pretty certain when we spoke."

"Almost too certain, don't you think?"

Jenna considered that and a small smile came to her face. "Like me, when you think about it-both of us so sure. Of course, one of us had to be wrong. But now I think the truth is, you can never be certain about another person. Obvious, but I think I needed a reminder. Do you remember how I said that Dan was secretive?"

"Yes."

"Maybe you were right about why. He kept something from me. I knew that. We all do that, don't we? No one knows us entirely. In the end, it's kind of a cliche, but maybe you never really know a person."

"So you were wrong this whole time?"

Jenna chewed on her lip for a moment. "I look back now. I think about his secretiveness. I thought it had something to do with being an orphan, you know? The obvious trust issues. I thought that's what ultimately drove us apart. But now I wonder."

"Wonder what?"

A tear rolled down her cheek. "I wonder if it was more, if something bad happened to him. I wonder if there was a darkness there, inside of him."

Jenna stood and crossed the room. There was a coffee urn. She grabbed a Styrofoam cup and filled it. Wendy rose and followed her. She got some coffee too. When they returned to their seats, it was as though the moment had passed. Wendy was okay with that. She had dealt with the intuition part. It was time to return to the facts.

"When we met last time, you said something about Princeton. That something happened to him when he was there."

"Right, so?"

"So I'd like to look into that."

Jenna looked confused. "You think Princeton has something to do with all this?"

Wendy really didn't want to get into it. "I'm just following up."

"I don't understand. What could his college years have to do with anything?"

"It's just an aspect of the case I need to know about."

"Why?"

"Can you just trust me on this one, Jenna? You were the one who raised it last time we talked. You said something happened to him in college. I want to know what."

She didn't answer for a few moments. Then: "I don't know. That was part of the secretiveness-maybe the biggest part, now that I think about it. That's why I mentioned it to you."

"And you have no idea what it was?"

"Not really. I mean, it ended up not making much sense."

"Could you at least tell me about it?"

"I don't see the point."

"Humor me, okay?"

Jenna brought the coffee up to her mouth, blew on it, took a small sip. "Okay, when we first started going out, he'd disappear every other Saturday. I don't want to make it sound as cryptic as all that. But he'd just take off and not say where he was going."

"I assume you asked?"

"I did. He explained to me early in the relationship that this was something he did and that it was his private time. He said it was nothing to worry about, but he wanted me to understand he needed to do it."

She stopped talking.

"What did you make of that?"

"I was in love," Jenna said simply. "So at first, I rationalized it. Some guys play golf, I told myself. Some guys bowl or meet the boys in a bar or whatever. Dan was entitled to his time. He was so attentive in every other way. So I simply let it go."

The lobby door opened. A family of five staggered in and approached the front desk. The man gave their name and handed the receptionist his credit card.

"You said 'at first,' " Wendy said.

"Yes. Well, more than simply at first. I think we'd been married a year when I pushed him on it. Dan said not to worry, it was no big deal. But now it was, of course. The curiosity was eating me up. So one Saturday, I followed him."

Her voice drifted off and a small smile came to her face.

"What?"

"I've never told anyone this. Not even Dan."

Wendy sat back, gave her room. She took a sip of her coffee and tried to make herself look as nonthreatening as possible.

"Anyway there isn't that much more to the story. I followed him for about an hour, hour and a half. He got off at the exit for Princeton. He parked in town. He went into a coffee shop. I felt so silly following him. He sat by himself for maybe ten minutes. I kept waiting for the other woman to show up. I imagined she was some sexy college professor, you know, with glasses and dark black hair. But nobody showed up. Dan finished his coffee and got up. He started walking down the block. It was so weird, following him like that. I mean, I loved this man. You have no idea how much. And yet, like I said, there was something about him I couldn't reach and now I'm skulking around, trying to keep out of sight, and I'm feeling like now, finally, I'm close to learning the truth. And it's terrifying me."

Again Jenna lifted the cup to her lips.

"So where did he go?"

"Two blocks away, there was a lovely old Victorian home. It was in the heart of faculty housing. He knocked on the door and entered. He stayed an hour and left. He walked back to town, got in his car, and drove back."

The hotel receptionist told the family that check-in wasn't until four PM. The father pleaded for an earlier time. The receptionist remained firm.

"So whose house was it?"

"That's the funny thing. It belonged to the dean of students. A man named Stephen Slotnick. He was divorced at the time. He lived there with his two kids."

"So why would he visit him?"

"I have no idea. I never asked. That was it. I never raised it with him. He wasn't having an affair. It was his secret. If he wanted to tell me, he would."

"And he never did?"

"Never."

They drank coffee, both lost in their own thoughts.

"You have nothing to feel guilty about," Jenna said.

"I don't."

"Dan is dead. One thing we had in common, neither of us believed in an afterlife. Dead is dead. He wouldn't care about being rehabilitated now."

"I'm not trying to do that either."

"Then what are you trying to do?"

"Damned if I know. I guess I need answers."

"Sometimes the most obvious answer is the right one. Maybe Dan is everything people think he is."

"Maybe, but that doesn't answer one key question."

"That being?"

"Why was he visiting the dean of students at his alma mater?"

"I have no idea."

"Aren't you curious?"

Jenna thought about it. "You plan on finding out?"

"I do."

"It might have destroyed our marriage."

"Might have."

"Or it might have nothing to do with anything."

"More likely," Wendy agreed.

"I think Dan killed that girl."

Wendy did not reply to that. She waited for Jenna to say more, but she didn't. Admitting that had sucked the energy out of her. She sat back, seemingly unable to move.

After some time had passed, Wendy said, "You're probably right."

"But you still want to know about the dean?"

"I do."

Jenna nodded. "If you find out what it was, will you let me know?"

"Sure."

WENDY GOT OFF THE ELEVATOR and headed to Vic's office. On her way, she passed Michele Feisler-the new young anchorwoman-working at her cubicle. The cubicle had photographs of Walter Cronkite, Edward R. Murrow, Peter Jennings. Again Wendy thought, Oy.