“What if it’s Africa or something?”
“Then I’m going to Africa.”
She hesitated. “I can take some time and go with you. You don’t have to be alone right now. It’s only been a couple of weeks, Jon.”
He shook his head. “No. I need to be alone. Eventually, I’ll head up to Boston and spend some time with my boys. Right now, though, I need to be alone.”
She nodded. “I’ll take Hanny and check up on the house.”
“I’m selling the house. I can’t stay there anymore.” He took her hand. “Take care of yourself.”
She grinned. “That’s what people say when they’re never gonna see each other again.”
Stanton got out of the car. He took his only luggage, a backpack full of clothes, out of the back seat.
“I’m sorry,” she blurted out. “I’m just sorry. I don’t think I told you. I can’t imagine what Dane put you through.”
He leaned in through the window. “The thing Dane never got was that his philosophy applied to himself, too. He said you can’t really know anybody, but he assumed he knew me, that I would choose him over her. I think he fully expected me not to shoot him, like we would live in some sort of utopia in his church.”
“He was insane.”
“No, I don’t think he was.” He tapped the top of the car. “I’ll see ya around.”
“Yeah, see ya around.”
He turned and headed into the terminal. He stared at the board listing arrivals and departures for a while, and then he saw the flight: Tokyo.
When Stanton boarded, he got the window seat and leaned his head against the glass. He kept it there as the plane took off and didn’t speak or even acknowledge anybody else. He watched as the world fell away from view and became nothing but deserts of blue for as far as he could see. Shimmering and churning, until they got high enough that the water looked completely still and flat, like glass.
The motion of the plane and the hum of the engines were comforting background noise. His mind drifted, and slowly his eyes closed, and he fell into sleep.
Purgatory (Jon Stanton Mysteries Book 11) Page 18