Little Girls(89)

“These things can be . . . tough . . . on families.” There was more than just a hint of compassion in Detective Freeling’s voice. “I’m sure you understand.”

Both Laurie and Ted nodded.

Detective Freeling stood. “I’ll see myself out. And of course I’ll keep you both apprised of anything else we uncover.”

“Will you let me know if you’re able to contact any of Tanya’s relatives?”

“Sure.”

“Thank you, detective.”

Smiling wearily, the slender blue case file tucked beneath one arm, Detective Freeling wished them a good night.





“I don’t know what to say,” Ted said. When she didn’t answer, he said, “I don’t know what to do.”

“Whatever you want,” she said. She emptied the coffee cups in the sink, then wiped down the counter. Exhaustion pulled on her shoulders like a backpack full of sand. After leaving Sparrows Point in a fit of panic, she was halfway along the beltway toward home before she was able to regain some composure. When she had glanced up at her reflection in the rearview mirror, she wasn’t at all surprised to find that she had been crying. Now, just a few hours later, that trip out to the desolate factories of Sparrows Point seemed like it had happened in another lifetime.

Ted stood up from the table. “Your mind must be reeling. I can’t imagine what this is like for you.”

“I don’t need your compassion or your sympathy,” she advised him. “This changes nothing between you and me.”

“I’d like to talk about that, if you’ll let me.”

“I don’t think so, Ted. It’s very late and I’ve been through enough bullshit this evening.”

“Maybe you should rethink coming with me on Friday. You and Susan.”

“There’s nothing to rethink. Susan and I will be fine here on our own. And I think you should leave tomorrow instead of waiting till Friday.” She looked at the clock on the microwave. It was after midnight. “Today, I mean.”

“I don’t like the idea of leaving you two alone in this house.”

“It isn’t the house. There’s no menacing spirit here. I’m a grown woman and I can take care of myself.”

She threw the crusty dishrag in the sink. On the counter, the remaining items that had been recovered from the well still sat on the paper towel. There were half a dozen more keys among the swag. How many other doors were there? How many other locks waited to be opened? The possibilities were horrifying.

“At least let me come to the police station with you tomorrow,” he said.

“I can handle that on my own.”

“Laurie, you’re being pigheaded.”

“Am I?”

“Stop it. Please. Let’s talk.”

“I’ve got nothing to say to you.”

Her back was toward him but she could hear him sigh loud enough. She knew the look that would be on his face—that hurt, pouty, boyish look of indignation. She had seen it plenty of times in the past.

“It’s like you don’t even care,” he said. “Any other wife would have . . . would have asked questions about . . .”

She turned and smiled coolly at him. It took all her strength. “You want me to ask who she was? When it happened? How did it start?”

“At least we’d be talking.”

“I don’t want to know those things, Ted. I’m tired and I’m sad and I’m lonely. Thing is, I’ve been lonely for a while now. Why is it you care all of a sudden?”

“I’ve always cared.”

“Have you?”

“Stop answering me with rhetoric.”

She rinsed her hands beneath the faucet, then dried them off on a fresh dishtowel. The decapitated head of the plastic baby doll watched her from the counter with blank eye sockets. “You should get some rest if you’re going to drive back tomorrow.”

“I can leave Friday morning instead, just like we planned.”

“We planned nothing.”

“You know what I mean. Come on. Cut it out.”

Folding her arms across her chest, she turned around to face him as she leaned back against the edge of the counter. “Here’s the deal. You leave tomorrow for your big meeting. You stay there when it’s done. Once I’m able to get a realtor out here to look at this place, Susan and I will take a train back. I’ll use the money we’ve made already from the sale of the furniture, so you won’t feel it in your bank account.”

“This isn’t about money, Laurie.”

“No. It’s about fidelity. Or your lack thereof. Either way, once Susan and I get back to Hartford, you and I can talk. I think that’s reasonable. We’ve got a daughter to think about in all this, and it would do her no good for me to scream and shout and throw your shit out into the street. Which, truth be told, is what I’d really like to do.”

There was nothing for him to say to this. He simply stared at her, a dumbstruck look on his face. For the first time since she had known him, he actually looked his age. There were dark patches beneath his eyes with spidery crow’s feet at the corners. His skin looked sallow and nearly transparent. Blood vessels as thin as hairs networked across his cheeks. His appearance gave her some dark satisfaction.