Never Look Away (19 page)

Don, awakened to the fact that he'd gone overboard, managed to tone it down from that point on, but never stopped being entranced by his son's girlfriend and future wife.

Arlene, however, was immune to that kind of charm. Not that Jan had ever been anything but cordial with her.
("Cordial"? There I go again
, Arlene thought.) But Arlene felt the girl knew that what worked with men wouldn't pass muster with her.

What kind of girl, Arlene wondered, cuts off all ties with her family? Sure, not everyone came from a home as loving as the one she made, but come on. Jan didn't even let her parents know when Ethan was born. How bad did parents have to be not to let them know they had a grandson?

Jan must have had her reasons, Arlene told herself. But it just didn't seem right.

The doorbell rang.

Arlene was only steps away from the door at the time, going through the front hall closet, wondering how many years it had been since some of the coats at the ends had been worn, whether it was time to donate some of them to Goodwill. Startled by the sound, she clutched her chest and shouted, "My God!"

She closed the closet so she could see the front door. Through the glass she spotted an overweight man in a suit and loosened tie.

"You scared me half to death," she said as she opened the door.

"I'm sorry. I'm Detective Duckworth, Promise Falls police. You're Mrs. Harwood?"

"That's right."

"David's mother?"

"Yes."

"I'm heading the investigation into your daughter-in-law's disappearance. I'd like to ask you some questions."

"Oh, of course, please come in." As Duckworth crossed the threshold she asked, "You haven't found her, have you?"

"No, ma'am," he said. "Is your son home?"

"No, but Ethan's here. He's out back playing with his grandfather. Did you want me to get him in here?"

"No, that's okay. I met Ethan yesterday. He's a handsome young fellow."

Normally, Arlene Harwood might have swelled with pride. But she was too anxious about why the detective was here. She pointed to the living room couch, then realized several of Ethan's action figures were scattered there.

"That's okay," Duckworth said, moving them out of the way. "My son's nearly twenty and still collects these things." He sat down and waited for Arlene to do the same.

"Should I get my husband?" she asked.

"We can talk for a moment, and then maybe I'll have a chat with him. This is the first I've had a chance to talk to you."

"If there's anything I can do--"

"Oh, I know. Your son ... this must be a terrible time for him right now."

"It's just dreadful for all of us. Ethan, he doesn't really understand how serious it is. He just thinks his mother has gone away for a little while."

Duckworth found an opening. "You have some reason to think that's not the case?"

"Oh, I mean, what I meant was ... I mean, we are hoping that's all this is. But it's so unlike Jan to just take off. She's never done anything like that before, or if she has, David's certainly never mentioned it." She bit her lip, thinking maybe that came out wrong. "I mean, not that he keeps things from me. He counts on us a lot for support. We--my husband and I--look after Ethan all the time, now that we're retired. He doesn't go to day care, and he'll be starting school next month."

"Of course," Barry said. "Have you noticed anything out of the ordinary with Jan lately? A change in mood?"

"Oh my, yes. David's been saying the last couple of weeks Jan has seemed very down, depressed. It's been a tremendous worry to him. Did he tell you Jan talked about jumping off a bridge?"

"He did."

"I can't imagine what might have triggered it."

"So you observed this yourself, this change in Jan's mood?"

Arlene stopped to consider. "Well, she's not here all that much. Dropping off Ethan in the morning, picking him up at night. We usually only have time to say a few words to each other."

"Keeping in mind that you've only seen her for short periods, would you agree that Jan's been troubled lately?"

"Well," she hesitated, "I think Jan always puts on her best face when she's around her in-laws. I think if she was feeling bad, she might try not to show it."

"So you can't point to any one incident, say, where Jan acted depressed?"

"Not that I can think of."

"That's okay. I'm just asking all kinds of questions here, and some of them, I have to admit, may not make a lot of sense, you know?"

"Of course."

"Do you know whether Jan and Leanne Kowalski ever talked about taking a trip together? Were they close friends?"

"Leanne? Isn't that the girl who works in the office with Jan?"

"That's right."

"No, I'm afraid I don't know. I don't really know who Jan socializes with. You'd do better asking David about that."

"That's a good idea," he said. "Now, I'm just trying to nail down Jan's movements in the day before she went missing."

"Why is that important?" Arlene Harwood asked.

"It just gives us a better idea of a person's habits and their behavior."

"Okay."

"Do you know what Jan was doing on the Friday before she went to the Five Mountains park?"

"I don't really know. I mean--oh wait, she and David went for a drive."

"Oh yes?" Duckworth said, making notes.
"A
drive where?"

"I'm trying to remember. But David asked if we would look after Ethan longer that day, because he had to go someplace and Jan was going to go along with him."

"Do you know where they were going? What they were going to do?"

"I'm not sure. You really should ask David. Do you want me to get him on the phone? He's on his way back from Rochester right now."

"No, that's okay. I just wondered if you had any idea."

"I think it had something to do with work. He's a reporter for the
Standard
, but you probably already know that."

"I do, yes. So you think he was going somewhere on a story. An interview?"

"I really can't say. I know he's been working on that new prison that's supposed to come to town. You know about that?"

"I've heard about it," Duckworth said. "Isn't it unusual for your son to take his wife along with him when he's working?"

Arlene hesitated and shrugged. "I don't really know."

"So, he asked you to babysit Ethan until they got back from this trip?"

"That's right."

"When was that?"

"In the evening. Before it got dark. David came by to pick up Ethan."

"David and Jan," Duckworth said.

"Actually, just David," Arlene said.

"Jan waited in the car?"

"No, David came by on his own."

Duckworth nodded, like there was nothing odd about this, but he had a strange tingling going on in the back of his neck. "So why would that be? Wouldn't it make sense for the two of them to drop by here on the way home and pick up Ethan?"

"She wasn't feeling well," Arlene said.

"I'm sorry?"

"David told me. He said Jan wasn't feeling well during the drive back, so he dropped her at their place, and then he came over here for Ethan."

"I see," Duckworth said. "What was wrong with her?"

"A headache or something, I think David said."

"Okay. But I guess she felt well enough in the morning to go to Five Mountains. How did she seem to you then?"

"I didn't see her in the morning. They went straight to the park," Arlene said. Outside, the sound of a car door closing. Arlene got up and went to the window. "It's David. He should be able to help you with these questions."

"I'm sure he will," Duckworth said, getting to his feet.

TWENTY-THREE

When I pulled up in front of my parents' house, I spotted an unmarked police car at the curb.

My pulse quickened as I parked behind it. I was out of the car in a second and took the steps up to the porch two at a time. As I was swinging open the door, I found Barry Duckworth standing there.

"Mr. Harwood," he said.

"Has something happened?" I asked. I'd only run a few steps but felt out of breath. It was an adrenaline rush.

"No, no, nothing new," he said. Mom was standing just behind him, her eyes desperate and sorrowful. "I was driving by and decided to stop. Your mother and I were having a chat."

"Have you found out anything? Did they search the park again? Did anything turn up on the surveillance cameras? Has--"

Duckworth held up his hand. "If there are any developments, I promise you'll be the first to know."

I felt deflated. But the truth was, I was the one with news.

"I need to talk to you," I said to him.

"Sure."

"But I want to see Ethan first," I said. I could hear his laughter coming from the backyard. I started to move past the detective but he reached up and held my arm.

"I think it would be good if we could talk right now," he said.

My eyes met his. Even though he'd said there was nothing new, I could tell he was holding something back. If he'd had good news, he would have just told me.

"Something
has
happened," I whispered to him. "Don't tell me you've found her."

"No, sir, we have not," he said. "But it would help if you'd come down to the station with me."

I had that feeling you get from too much caffeine. Like electrical impulses were racing through my body. I wondered if he could feel them in my arm.

Trying to keep the anxiety out of my voice, I said, "Okay."

He let go of my arm and went out the door. Mom came up and hugged me. She must not have known what to say, because she said nothing.

"It's okay, Mom," I said. "I'm sorry. I was going to take Ethan off your hands--"

"Don't be stupid," she said. "Just go with him." She let go and I could see tears welling up in her eyes. "David, I'm sorry, I think I may have said something--"

"What?"

"That detective, he looked at me funny when I said that Jan--"

"Mr. Harwood!"

I looked over my shoulder. Detective Duckworth had the passenger door of his unmarked car open, waiting for me.

"I have to go," I said. I gave my mother a hug and ran down to Duckworth's car, hopping into the front seat. He was going to close the door for me, but I grabbed the handle and slammed it shut myself.

When he got into the driver's seat, I said, "I could just follow you in. Then you wouldn't have to bring me back."

"Don't worry about that," he said, putting the car into drive, looking back and then hitting the gas. "This will give us more time to talk."

"Why are we going to the station?"

Duckworth gave his head a small shake, his way of ignoring my question. "So you came back from Rochester, what, this morning?" he asked.

"Yes."

"And you went out there why again?"

"I was looking for Jan's parents."

"The ones she hasn't spoken to in years."

"Yes."

"Did you find them?"

I hesitated. "That's what I want to talk to you about. But let me ask you something first."

He glanced over. "Shoot."

"If the FBI or some other organization, if they put someone in the witness protection program, and they resettle them in your own backyard, do they give you a heads-up about it?"

Duckworth seemed to take a long time before answering, his tongue moving around the inside of his cheek. Finally, "What's that again?"

I repeated it.

"Well, I guess that might depend on the situation. But generally speaking, the FBI tends to view local law enforcement as a bunch of know-nothing hicks, so my guess is they'd not be inclined to share that kind of information. Also, in their defense, the more people know something like that, the more likely someone's going to find out."

I considered that. "That could be."

"And you're asking this because ...?" Duckworth asked.

"I'm not saying this is what's happened, but I think it's just possible that--"

"No, wait, let me guess," Duckworth said. "Your wife is a witness in hiding. And her cover's been blown, and now she's taken off."

"Is this a joke to you? I thought you'd want to know about this."

"No, no, that's a very serious thing," he said. "Very serious."

"You think I'm full of shit," I said.

I thought maybe he'd deny the accusation, and when he didn't, I said, "I think Jan may not be who she says she is."

Another glance. Then, "And just who is she, really? Tell me, I'm listening."

"I don't know," I said. "I've ... I've found out some things in the last day that don't make a whole lot of sense to me. And they may have something to do with why Jan's missing."

"And what are these things you've found out?"

"I went to Rochester and found the people who are listed on Jan's birth certificate as her parents."

"And that's who?"

"Horace and Gretchen Richler. The thing is, they had a daughter named Jan, but she died when she was five."

The tongue was moving around inside Duckworth's cheek again. "Okay," he said.

"It was an accident. Her father hit her with the car, backing out of the driveway."

"Man," Duckworth said. "How do you live with that the rest of your life?"

"Yeah." I gave him a minute for it to sink in. "What do you make of that?"

"You know what? Let me make a call when we get to the station. And while someone's looking into that, we can talk about some other things."

"Have a seat," he said, pointing to the plain chair at the plain desk in the plain room.

"Isn't this an interrogation room?" I asked.

"It's a room," Duckworth said. "A room is a room. I want to talk to you privately, it's as good a place as any. But hang on for a second while I make a call about that witness protection thing. You want a coffee or a soft drink or something?"

I said I was okay.

"Be right back, then." He slipped out of the room, closing the door behind him.

I walked over to the table, stood there a moment, finally sat down on one of the metal chairs.

This didn't feel right.

Duckworth brings me in, says he wants to talk about something but doesn't say what, puts me in a room, leaves me alone
.

There was a mirror on one wall. I wondered whether Duckworth was on the other side, watching through one-way glass to see how I behaved. Was I fidgeting, pacing, running my fingers nervously through my hair?

I stayed in the chair, tried to calm down. But inside I was churning.

After about five minutes, the door opened. Duckworth had a coffee in one hand, and a bottled water tucked under his arm so he could turn the knob.

"Got myself a coffee," he said. "I grabbed you a water, just in case."

"I'm not an idiot," I said.

"Say what?"

"I'm not an idiot. The way this is going. Bringing me down here. Leaving me in here to sweat it out for a while on my own. I get it."

"I don't know what you're talking about," Duckworth said, pulling up a chair and setting the coffee and water on the table.

"Look, I'm not the greatest reporter in the world. If I were, I wouldn't be at the
Standard
. They stopped caring about journalism a long time ago. But I've been around long enough to know the score. You think I'm some kind of suspect or something."

"I never said that."

"So tell me I'm wrong. Tell me you don't think I have anything to do with this."

"How about you tell me about this trip you took up to Lake George two days ago?"

"What?"

"You've never mentioned it. Why's that?"

"Why would I? Jan went missing the following day. Why would I bring up what happened on Friday?"

"Why don't you tell me about it now?"

"Why is this important?"

"Is there some reason you don't want to tell me, Mr. Harwood?"

"No, of course not, but--fine. Jan and I drove up to Lake George to meet with a source. Actually, I was meeting with the source. Jan just came along."

"A source?"

"For a story I've been working on."

"What story is that?"

I hesitated before continuing. Could I discuss with the police stories I was working on for the
Standard?
Was it ethical? Did it violate journalistic principles?

Did I really, at this moment, give a flying fuck?

"I've been working on stories about Star Spangled Corrections wanting to come to Promise Falls. The company has been doing favors for at least one council member that I know of. Someone sent me an email, that there were others taking payoffs or kickbacks, or whatever, to buy their votes when the prison comes up before council for zoning approvals."

"Who sent you the email?"

"I can't tell you that."

"Oh," said Duckworth, looking like he wanted to roll his eyes but restraining himself. "Confidentiality. Protecting your source."

"No," I said. "The email was anonymous."

"But if you met with this person, you must know who it is."

"She didn't show up," I said.

"She?"

"She said in her email that I was to look for a woman in a white truck. No woman in a white truck showed up."

"Where was she supposed to meet you?"

"At a general store/gas station place north of Lake George. Ted's, it was called."

"So you drove up there?"

"That's right. Friday afternoon. She was supposed to come at five."

"And you took your wife with you?"

"Yes."

"Why'd you do that? Do you normally take your wife along when you're going to interview someone?"

"Not usually."

"Have you ever taken your wife with you before when you were on an assignment?"

I thought. "I'm sure I have, but I can't actually think of an instance. There was an awards dinner a couple of years ago."

"You were covering the awards? Or you were up for one?"

"I was up for one. For spot news reporting."

"So that wasn't really an assignment. That was the sort of thing anyone would take their spouse to."

"I suppose so," I conceded.

"Did you win?" Duckworth asked.

"No."

"So then, why did you take your wife on this outing?"

"Like I told you, she's been feeling depressed the last few weeks, and she told me she was going to take Friday off, so I suggested she come along for the ride. She could keep me company on the way up and back."

"Okay," Duckworth said. "What did you talk about on the way up?"

I shook my head in frustration. "I don't know, we just--What's the point of this, Detective?"

"I'm just getting a full picture of the events that led up to your wife's disappearance."

"Our drive to Lake George did not
lead up
to her disappearance. It's just something we did the day before Five Mountains. Unless--"

Duckworth cocked his head to one side. "Unless?"

The car. The one Jan had spotted following us. The one that did a couple of drive-bys of the place where I was supposed to meet the woman
.

"I think we were followed," I said.

Duckworth leaned back in his chair. His eyebrows went up. "You were followed."

I nodded. "Jan noticed a car following us up. But I wasn't that sure. Then, when we were waiting in the parking lot for this contact to show up, the car drove by a couple of times. Went up the road, turned around and came back. I ran out to it at one point, trying to get a look at who it was, but then the car sped off."

Duckworth folded his arms across his chest. His forearms sat on his belly like it was a countertop. He hadn't touched his coffee yet, and I hadn't cracked the top of the bottled water.

"You were followed," he said again.

"I'm pretty sure," I said.

"Who would have followed you?"

"I don't know. At the time, I figured it was someone who found out this woman had arranged to meet me. I thought maybe that was what scared her off. She saw that car snooping about and chickened out."

"But now you have a different theory?"

"I don't know. You're so interested in what happened Friday, and after what I found out from these people I thought were Jan's parents, maybe the person in that car was following Jan. Maybe that's what this is all about. She's a relocated witness, someone figured out who she was, was following her, and she had to disappear."