Part 6 (1/2)

”Where did it happen?” Julie asked, wanting to steer the conversation away from mumbo-jumbo mumbo-jumbo.

McGuane looked out, beyond the living room window, as if thinking about how to delicately answer this question. ”That doesn't really matter right now.”

”It does to me.”

”All right. Just outside town. Out in some hills beyond the highway.”

”He died in the woods.”

”We found his car on the side of the road,” McGuane said. ”In Newark.”

”But you found him nearby.”

”Yes.”

”I want to go there.”

3.

Against his better judgment, McGuane agreed to drive her to the place where her husband had been murdered. The roads were slick from a previous rain, and he took the turns along the highway slowly, both for safety and because he felt as if he had a fragile item in his car.

They said nothing as he drove along the back road that led up to the hillside, beyond the suburbs, and Julie stared straight ahead the whole time, thinking of nothing whatsoever to mention.

When they got there, to the edge of the road where the killer had left the victim's car, McGuane parked, got out, and went around to open her door.

”Thank you,” she said.

He had positioned the headlights of the car to s.h.i.+ne on the narrow gravel path that cut through the woods.

”He took your husband through there,” McGuane pointed, and then made a circle with his finger in the air. ”There's a clearing when you go higher.”

”I suppose it's too dark to go up there.”

”Mrs. Hutchinson, if you think this will help at all,” he said, ”I'll get a flashlight and we can go up there. It's muddy, and frankly, any footprint we leave might obscure some vital piece of evidence. I hate taking that chance.”

She nodded, and glanced around the woods. ”Do you know when he died?”

”We're not sure. Not yet. I'd guess it was early afternoon, yesterday. Might've been last night. Some mountain bikers use that path. They'd been going up and down the hills around here this morning. One of them thought he saw a dead deer, and went to get a closer look. Only, well, it wasn't...what he had thought. That was before nine this morning.”

”It rained yesterday, off and on,” she said.

”But it was fairly dry when the bicyclists came through here.”

”Where did the car end up? My husband's Audi?”

”Mrs. Hutchinson,” McGuane said. ”it's important to examine every little detail of this crime scene.”

”It's impounded,” she nodded, understanding. ”Livy and I were here yesterday. Well, not here. Miles away, really. To the west. But we were in the woods, up in the hills.” She walked up to the edge of the path. She looked into the darkness between the trees as if half expecting someone to be there. Then, she turned, facing the headlights of McGuane's car and said, ”Please take me home now. I think I'm going to be sick.”

4.

Later that evening, after the detective had gone, and Julie walked in the front door, Mel called to her from the top of the stairs. The kids were all ready for bed. It was nearly ten, and everybody was exhausted. Julie went to sit on the edge of Livy's bed.

Matt unrolled his sleeping bag on the floor near Livy's bed.

”It's okay for a night or two,” Julie said. ”It's wonderful in fact. But you need to move it back to your own bedroom soon. Okay?” Even as she said this, she wanted to bring both of them into her own bed and hold them for as long as possible.

Matt's reaction had surprised her. She had suspected he might have a violent outburst, or become agitated. But he chose silence, instead. He had barely said a word since Julie had told him of his father's death, but stuck close to Livy who had bawled for hours before she had just gone to her room and begun reading. Julie wasn't sure how Livy understood death, and even as she tucked her in, Livy looked at her as if she didn't quite believe that her father was not coming home again.

Mel sat next to Matt on his temporary bed, while Julie began singing ”Lullaby and Goodnight,” to Livy, who clung to her as she fell asleep.

”It's nice of you to do this,” she whispered to Matt before kissing him goodnight, which he shrugged away as if he were too old for kisses on the forehead.

”I want to keep her safe,” Matt said.

Julie glanced around his sleeping bag. ”You usually sleep with your camera.”

”Not tonight, Julie. I don't feel like making a movie out of this,” he said. He covered himself up to his neck in the sleeping bag and then rested his head on the pillow. ”You won't let me go back to my mother, will you?”

Julie felt a lump in her throat. ”Of course not. We're family,” she said. ”You and me and Livy. Don't even think it. Remember when all those papers got signed? You're stuck with me, bucko.”

5.

When the kids were asleep, she went to the linen closet, and drew a footstool out so she could reach the very top shelf. She drew a metal box down. It clanked when she moved it. She took it into her room, and set it on the dresser. She found the small key to the lock. She opened the box. Wrapped in a thin cloth, the gun. She knew nothing about guns. She knew this was some special type of revolver that Hut had to get a license for. She hadn't wanted to know about it. She had pretended that the bad people never showed up at your door in the suburbs.

Then, she went to find the clip to put in it. She didn't think she'd use it. She didn't think she'd ever need to. But she wanted to feel as if it was there for her, if anything ever threatened her children.

6.

Before Julie went to bed, she looked up the phone number in an old Day Runner that she'd kept since their wedding day. She punched in the number on her cell phone. California. The area code had changed. She had to tap the number in again, this time with another area code.