by David Bell
“So she told you that day? Early in the day?”
“First thing. She sent you kids out of the house. She never did that, but she didn’t want either of you to hear. I guess she didn’t want that to be a memory of us you carried around. There were always a lot of people in the park. Mothers that she knew. She thought you’d be safe.” He sighed. “Once you were gone, she told me she was going to leave me for Ray. And Ray was going to leave Rose. The two of them were going to be together. I don’t know what she thought was going to happen to you kids, but I guess it only mattered for you and Michael. Justin was probably theirs.”
“She told you that during the same conversation?”
“She told me she suspected. She suspected pretty strongly. Around the time Justin would have been conceived, let’s just say things were pretty frosty between your mom and me. That’s when I suspected her of being with Ray the first time. She told me she didn’t think Justin was mine because she thought she’d only been with Ray. We would have had to do a blood test and all that, but pretty soon there’s a police car in our driveway. Someone at the park told the police who we were and where we lived. It’s safe to say our focus shifted a little at that moment. Your mom fell to pieces because she was worried about Justin. I was, too, I guess, but let’s just say that conversation with your mom, as difficult as it was, opened my eyes a little bit, too. I understood why I had felt the way I had about Justin. I guess I felt vindicated. Some things made sense, things that for so long I had thought were just paranoid and stupid fears.”
“But you went along,” Janet said. “You stood by Mom’s side through the whole thing. You didn’t leave her.”
“Would you?” he said, sounding almost angry. “How could I? She needed me. And if I left, I’d be raising a whole boatload of new questions. Remember, the press and the police were following everything so closely. I didn’t want to raise any red flags. Besides, I did have a kid to think about. I had you-and I knew you were mine.”
Janet felt the tears stinging her eyes. She held them back. “You stayed with her after that, though. After they found Justin and the funeral and the trial. It could have been all over then. All of it. You didn’t owe her anything at that point. She cheated on you. And you…you kept this all hidden away inside you.”
“What was your mother like after that?” he asked. “You remember, don’t you?”
Janet did. It wasn’t difficult to summon the memories of her mother in the years after Justin’s death. The nights crying, the vacant stares during the day. The slow, steady decline of her health. She was different after Justin’s death. She was gone, shattered. She was there, she was present in Janet’s life, but Janet often felt like her mother had died that day in the park along with her brother.
“I remember.”
“I couldn’t leave her then,” he said. “She was broken. A shell. Whatever she had planned or had with Ray appeared to be over, too.” He rubbed his hand over his chin, across the gray stubble growing there. “I loved her, Janet. Always did, always will. I couldn’t walk away when she really needed me. She blamed herself for Justin’s death, you know? That’s what killed her. The guilt more than the grief.”
“She blamed herself because-”
“You kids wouldn’t have gone to the park alone that day if it hadn’t been for her needing to talk to me. If it hadn’t been for the affair, she would have gone with you kids, and she believed she wouldn’t have let Justin out of her sight. She was reckless and distracted because of our problems.”
“I was supposed to be watching him-”
“No. No. You were seven years old. No. That was not your fault. The adults were to blame for this one. The adults and that guy who killed Justin. Don’t blame yourself for that. Not for one minute.”
Janet heard him, but her mind skipped ahead to other things. Michael. Michael came to town asking questions about Ray’s possible involvement in Justin’s death. If Ray was really Justin’s father, would that make him more or less likely to have committed the crime?
“Dad?” Janet said. “Did Ray know about all of this? Did he know he was Justin’s father?”
Her dad took a drink of his beer. He seemed to be thinking over his answer. “I know he meant to leave Rose. That very day, the day Justin died, the same scene that was playing out at our house was playing out at theirs. I always assumed that’s how Michael ended up in the park that day as well. Ray was telling Rose about the affair and that he was leaving her.” Her dad paused. “Your mom thought Ray might have been coming to our house that morning, after he told Rose. I guess he had some chivalric notion of telling me man-to-man. But he never showed up, if he even planned to. Justin disappeared, and the police showed up. And that was that.”
“Ray might have been coming over here that day?”
“Yes.”
“From their house?”
“I guess so.”
“Do you know what that means, Dad?” Janet asked.
Her father might be many things, but he wasn’t slow. She could see his face as he connected the dots. “You’re saying he would have had to walk through the woods? He would have walked right where Justin was killed?”
“Yes.”
“No,” he said. “The Bowers almost always drove when they came to our house. Even if he did walk, it doesn’t prove anything. Maybe he walked, saw the commotion, and turned around and went home.”
“You’re defending this man?” Janet said. “The man who ruined your marriage, and you’re defending him.”
“They arrested a man. They had a trial. He had pornography in his room. You saw him at the park with Justin.” He pointed at her. “You did. Ray Bower may be a lot of things, but he’s not a killer. Why would he kill his own kid?”
Janet already knew she couldn’t answer that question. She couldn’t answer any of these questions.
But she knew whom she wanted to talk to about it all.
“I’m going to go see Michael.”
“Wait.”
Janet didn’t stand up. Her dad didn’t look at her. He held his hand to his mouth, his thumbnail between his front teeth. She knew he wanted to say something, but he wasn’t saying it.
Then she understood. He was embarrassed. He had just told her the most painful, embarrassing event of his life, something he had kept to himself for twenty-five years. And she wanted to go tell someone else about it. The whole town would find out if the news broke.
“We have to do this, Dad,” she said. “We have to find out what happened.”
He didn’t say yes or no. He didn’t even nod.
But Janet knew he agreed.
Chapter Forty-one
Rose opened the door for Janet. She wore a large smile until she saw the look on Janet’s face. Then she knew something was wrong. She didn’t move out of the way so Janet could come inside.
“Is he home?” Janet asked.
After a pause, Rose nodded. “He’s in his room.”
“Do you know why I’m here?”
Rose reached up and fiddled with a loose strand of hair. “I know there was some kind of DNA test being done. I read that in the paper.”
“Did you know?” Janet asked.
“That was so long ago-”
“Did you know?”
Rose pressed her lips together, making them disappear. “I wondered. Many times I wondered. Ray thought it might be true.”
“And Michael?”
Rose looked behind her. She came closer to Janet, pulling the door shut a little more in an attempt to block the sound of their voices from entering the house. “I never wanted him to hate his father. I wasn’t going to be the person who destroyed what my son thought of his dad.”
“He hated him anyway,” Janet said.
“But that’s because of other things,” Rose said. “Ray cut him off. He was giving Michael money, and he stopped. It’s this new girl Ray’s dating. Ray wouldn’t…He loves Michael very much.”
Janet took a step back and looked
at the woman’s face. Was she really making excuses for her ex-husband, the man who cheated on her, fathered another child, and left her? After all these years, was she still in love with him?
“I’m telling him, Rose. I’m here to tell him.”
Rose started to object but stopped. Finally, she stepped back and let Janet into the house.
Janet told Michael most of the story. While she explained everything-the DNA test, the story her father told her about the affair, and the events of the day Justin died-Rose sat on the couch, listening with her head down. Michael asked few questions during Janet’s recitation of events. She watched his face carefully, saw his cheeks redden, his jaw set tight, as if his teeth were gripping something strong and desperately trying to tear it away. He did speak once. He looked at his mother and said, simply, “He did that to you, Mom?”
Rose didn’t answer him.
When Janet finished, Michael sat still and quiet. Rose scooted closer to him and placed her arm around his shoulders. He stiffened under her touch, and Rose looked like she had been slapped.
“I told you, didn’t I?” Michael said.
Janet knew what he meant.
“What do you mean, Michael?” Rose asked.
Michael didn’t answer her. He stared at Janet, his eyes boring into her.
“You need to tell her, Michael,” Janet said.
“Tell me what?”
“Michael?”
When he still didn’t say anything, Janet stepped in.
“Michael has been trying to figure some things out over the years, things about the day Justin died. He saw his father in the woods that day, right in the area where Justin’s body was found.”
Rose was already shaking her head.
“And,” Janet said, “we know that he might have wanted to come to our house that day to tell my dad. If he did that, he would have walked right through there.”
“Ray wouldn’t. He couldn’t.”
“Rose, did he leave the house that morning?” Janet asked. “Did he want to come over to talk to Dad?”
“It’s been so long-”
“Stop protecting him, Mom. Just stop it.” Michael’s voice was as flat and hard as a winter road.
Rose removed her arm from around Michael’s shoulders and placed her hands in her lap and knotted them together. When she spoke, her voice was barely above a whisper. “He did leave the house that morning,” she said.
Michael made a low grunting noise. It sounded like a cross between pain and anger.
Rose said, “He told me about…” Her voice trailed off, but she pointed at Janet. “The things you just told me about. And he said he wanted to talk to Bill in person.” She looked at Michael. “We fought that morning when he told me. We never fought. Ever.”
“I know,” Michael said.
“That’s why we sent you to the park that day,” Rose said. “We fought about all of this, including Justin. Ray said he thought Justin might be his child. I guess that was the part I couldn’t bear to hear, that he might have had a child with another woman.” She looked at Janet. “We tried to have another after Michael, but we couldn’t. I couldn’t, I guess.”
“I’m sorry,” Janet said.
“I begged him to stay,” Rose said. She smiled at Janet, but it carried no joy. “I guess you don’t understand that,” she said. “Girls from your generation, you’re more independent. Stronger. Look at you, raising a daughter all by yourself. And working at the same time.”
“Don’t feel bad,” Janet said.
“Well, Ray didn’t listen to me anyway. He said he needed to talk to Bill about it man-to-man. He wanted to clear the air that one time, get everything out in the open, and then never mention it again. That’s the way Ray is. He didn’t want to have a long talk about anything. He thought it could be cut and dried. He was done with me, and he could move on. The end. So he did leave to do that, to talk to your dad, to tell him in person.”
“Did he drive or walk?” Janet asked.
“He walked. He went right out the back door and over toward the park.”
“We have to call the police,” Michael said.
“But he came back, right?” Janet asked, ignoring Michael for the moment. “When did he come back?”
Rose paused and thought about her answer. “It wasn’t long. Twenty minutes maybe. He came back in the door and said that something was wrong in the park. He said the police were there, so he decided to come home. Then the phone rang.” Rose pointed at Janet. “Your mom was on the phone. I thought she was calling for…I don’t know, something else. But she was upset. She said Justin was missing, and she wanted to know if he was over at our house. Ray told her no, he wasn’t.” Rose looked down. “I may have said some awful things then. I said if she was a better mother and wasn’t interfering in someone else’s marriage, maybe she could keep better watch on her kids. It was a terrible thought, but I didn’t know what had happened to Justin at that point. I wouldn’t have said or thought those things if I had known.”
Michael stood up. “We have to call the police.”
“And tell them what?” Janet asked. “That a man had an affair twenty-five years ago and probably fathered a child out of wedlock? What’s the crime?”
“He was there,” Michael said. “At the scene. He walked through there.”
“Again, not a crime.”
“But the police should talk to him about it.”
Michael paced around the small room. He walked to one end and then the other and back again. Janet saw the tension in his posture, the tendons in his neck stretched taut. Janet waited, hoping he’d settle down on his own. Together, they could decide what to do and what it all meant.
Then Rose said, “When your father came home that day, his pants were dirty.”
Michael stopped pacing and turned back to her.
“What?” he said.
“His pants were dirty. He said he fell on the path. He came in and threw the pants into the washing machine.”
Janet turned to Michael, but he was already moving. He was through the door before Janet even made it off the couch. She followed him outside. When she came out into the hot night air, she saw the car backing out into the street, then the taillights receding into the distance.
She had to follow him.
Chapter Forty-two
Janet called Detective Stynes from her car. She drove with one hand and held the phone with the other. When Stynes came on, she didn’t know exactly what to tell him, so she tried to make it as simple as possible.
“Detective, I need you to get to Ray Bower’s house.”
“Janet?”
“Ray Bower’s house. Can you get there?”
“I can. What’s wrong?”
“It’s too much to explain right now.”
“I’m on my way to the door and getting my keys. Can you at least give me a sense of what I’m walking into?”
She stumbled a few times trying to find the right words. Finally, she said, “It’s about Justin’s murder. I think Ray Bower killed him. And I think Michael is going over there to kill Ray.”
Janet parked in the driveway behind Michael’s car. She went straight into the house without bothering to knock. She hadn’t been in there for years, not since high school. The Bowers’ house had been so familiar to her as a child, almost a second home. Growing up, she attributed the tailing off of the friendship between the families to the sudden shock of Justin’s death, to the slow descent of her mother into illness and death. But it was so much more-more than she ever could have imagined.
The living room sat empty. Janet knew the Bowers had a family room at the back of the house, which used to be filled with two large recliners and an overstuffed couch. They watched TV there. As Janet moved in that direction, she heard a rustling and something thumping against the floor.
“Michael?”
An angry voice came from the rear of the house, something like a shout.
Janet stopped, considered turning a
nd waiting outside until the police showed up. But she knew the state of mind Michael was in when he’d left Rose’s house. She feared what he might do.
“Michael?” she said again, her voice a little louder.
The rustling again. Quick movements. Janet stepped to the doorway that led into the back room and came face-to-face with Michael.
He reached out with both hands and took hold of Janet’s shoulders, his grip so tight she yelped.
He didn’t let go. And she stared into his eyes. They were wide and full of tears, as much red as white in the sclera. He looked different. Crazed with some combination of grief and anger.
“Michael,” she said. “It’s me. It’s okay.”
“Janet.”
He said her name. It sounded like a plea.
“The police are coming. I called them.”
“Janet,” he said again.
“Michael, let go. You’re hurting me.”
Her knees started to buckle from the pressure he was exerting on her arms. She felt the pain shoot through her body.
He let go and stepped back.
“Just wait,” Janet said. “The police are on their way. They’ll take care of it.”
He stared at her for a long moment, his eyes turning more hurt than angry.
“They can’t help, Janet.”
He dashed away, toward the front of the house. Janet wanted to go after him, but she heard another voice from the back room. A moaning, keening sound.
Janet rubbed her arms as she went into the room.
Ray Bower lay in the middle of the floor. A glass tumbler, liquid spilling out of it and soaking into the carpet, sat on the floor next to him. Janet took two quick steps toward him.
One side of his face was bruised and bloodied, the eye swollen shut already.
“Oh, Jesus.”
Janet dropped to her knees next to him. She leaned in close, listening for breathing. It came, raspy and short.
She started to reach out, to provide a comforting touch on his arm. Then she remembered who this man was. And what he had done.