The Stranger(82)
ADAM PRICE, ATTORNEY-AT-LAW
He had found her. And if he had found her, it made sense that he’d also been the one who found Ingrid.
To paraphrase that movie with Jack Nicholson, some people can’t handle the truth.
Gabrielle reached into her bottom drawer and took out a Glock 19 Gen4 and laid it on the bed. Merton had given it to her, claiming it was the perfect handgun for women. He’d taken her out to a firing range in Randolph and taught her how to use it. It was loaded and ready to go. She’d been worried at first about keeping a loaded gun in the house with young children, but the possible threats had trumped standard home safety.
So what now?
Simple. Follow procedure. She snapped a photo of Adam Price’s card with her iPhone. She attached the image to an e-mail and typed in two words before hitting SEND:
HE KNOWS
Chapter 43
Adam left work early and drove to the new turf field at Cedarfield High School. The boys’ lacrosse team was practicing. He parked down the block, out of sight, and watched his son Thomas from behind the bleachers. He had never done this before—watched a practice—and he probably couldn’t articulate exactly what he was doing here. He just wanted to watch his son for a while. That’s all. Adam remembered what Tripp Evans had said at the American Legion Hall the night this all started, how he couldn’t believe how lucky those of them who lived in towns like this were:
“We’re living the dream, you know.”
Tripp was right, of course, but it was interesting how we described our personal paradise as a “dream.” Dreams are fragile. Dreams don’t last. One day you wake up and poof, the dream is gone. You stir and feel it pull away from you as you helplessly grab at the smoky remnants. But it’s useless. The dream dissolves, gone forever. And standing there, watching his son play the game he loved, Adam couldn’t help but feel that since the stranger’s visit, they were all on the verge of waking up.
The coach blew the whistle and told everyone to take a knee. They did so. A few minutes later, the boys took off their helmets and trudged back toward the locker room. Adam stepped out from behind the bleachers. Thomas stopped short when he saw him.
“Dad?”
“It’s fine,” Adam said. Then realizing that might be misinterpreted to mean that Corinne was back, he added, “I mean, nothing new.”
“Why are you here?”
“I got out of work early. I thought I’d give you a ride home.”
“I need to shower first.”
“No problem. I’ll wait.”
Thomas nodded and started back toward the locker room. Adam checked in on Ryan. He’d gone to Max’s house straight from school. Adam texted him, asking whether he’d be ready to be picked up when Thomas was finished in order to save his old man another trip out. Ryan texted back “np,” and it still took Adam a few moments to realize that meant “no problem.”
In the car ten minutes later, Thomas asked him what the police wanted.
“It’s really hard to explain right now,” Adam said. “I’m not saying that to protect you, but for now, you’re going to have to let me handle it.”
“Does it have something to do with Mom?”
“I don’t know.”
Thomas didn’t push it. They stopped and picked up Ryan. Ryan slipped into the backseat and said, “Oh, gross, what’s that smell?”
“My lacrosse equipment,” Thomas said.
“Nasty.”
“Agreed,” Adam said, lowering the windows. “How was school?”
“Good,” Ryan said. Then: “Anything new on Mom?”
“Not yet.” He debated saying more and then decided that some of the truth might offer comfort. “But the good news is, the police are involved now.”
“What?”
“They’re going to look for Mom too.”
“The police,” Ryan said. “Why?”
Adam gave a half shrug. “It’s like Thomas said to me last night. This isn’t like her. So they’ll help us find her.”
The boys, he was certain, would have follow-up questions, but as the car pulled onto their street, Ryan said, “Hey, who’s that?”
Johanna Griffin sat on their front stoop. She stood as Adam turned into the driveway, smoothing out the institutional-green pantsuit. She smiled and waved like a neighbor who’d stopped by to borrow sugar. Adam pulled the car to a stop as Johanna, still smiling, strolled casually and unthreateningly toward them.
“Hey, guys,” she called out.
They all got out of the car. The boys looked wary.
“I’m Johanna,” she said, shaking the boys’ hands. Thomas and Ryan looked toward their father for answers.