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“They’re very tired. I put them to bed. You looked nice tonight, Je
“I looked nice tonight.” She felt herself begin to tremble.
“Yes, I was there. I was looking in the window. You should have guessed I was there. If you love me you would have guessed.”
In the darkness Je
“I didn’t want to. I just wanted to make sure you were still there waiting for me.”
“I am waiting for you, Erich, and I’m waiting for the girls. If you didn’t want to be here, let me come and be with you.”
“No… Not yet. Are you in bed now, Je
“Yes, of course.”
“What nightgown have you got on?”
“The one you like. I wear it a lot.”
“Maybe I should have stayed.”
“Maybe you should. I wish you would.”
There was a pause. In the background she could hear sounds of traffic. He must always call from the same phone. He had been outside the window.
“You didn’t tell Pastor Barstrom that I’m mad at you.”
“Of course not. He knows how much we love each other.”
“Je
“No, I wasn’t.”
“You really were talking to Pastor Barstrom.”
“Why don’t you call and ask him?”
“No. I believe you. Je
She was hearing it again. The high-pitched screaming that had nearly destroyed her with its accusations: “Is Mark your new boyfriend? Does he like to swim? Whore. Get out of Caroline’s bed. Get out of it now.”
There was a click. Then silence. Then the dial tone, a mild, impersonal buzz radiating from the receiver in her hand.
37
Sheriff Gunderson phoned twenty minutes later. “Je
Duluth. The northern part of the state. Nearly six hours driving from here. That meant if he was staying in that area he had started down in the midafternoon in order to have been looking in the window at eight o’clock.
Who had been with the children all the hours he’d been gone? Or had he left them alone? Or weren’t they alive anymore? She hadn’t spoken to them since the sixteenth, almost two weeks ago.
“He’s coming apart,” she said tonelessly. Sheriff Gunderson did not try to offer empty cheer. “Yes, I think he is.”
“What can you do?”
“Do you want us to go public? Release the facts to television stations, newspapers?”
“God, no. That would be signing the girls’ death certificates.”
“Then we’ll get a special squad combing the Duluth area. And we want to leave a detective in your house. Your own life may be in danger.”
“Absolutely not. He’d know.”
It was almost midnight. February 28 would become March 1. Je
“Hare, hare,” Je
In the morning her eyes were so swollen she could barely see out of them. Somehow she got dressed, went downstairs, made coffee, rinsed off her cup and saucer. The thought of food sickened her and there was no use stacking the dishwasher with one lonely cup and saucer.
Slipping on her ski jacket she hurried outside and walked around to the window on the southern side of the house that looked into the family area of the kitchen. There were footsteps outlined in the snow below that window, footsteps that had come out of the woods, gone back to the woods. While she sat in that room, Erich had stood out here, his face pressed against the glass, watching her.
The sheriff phoned again at noon. “Je
“Let me think on it.” She wanted to ask Mark.
Rooney came over at two. “Want to sew a little?”
“I suppose so.”
Placidly Rooney took a chair near the iron stove and got out the pieces she was working on.
“Well, we’ll be seeing him soon,” Rooney commented.
“Him?”
“Erich, of course. You know that promise Caroline made that she’d always be here on his birthday. Since she died twenty-six years ago, Erich has been on this place on his birthday. Pretty much like you saw him last year. Just kind of wandering around as though he’s looking for something.”
“And you believe he’ll be here this year?”
“He never missed yet.”
“Rooney, please help me, don’t remind anyone… Not Clyde or anyone about that.”
Seemingly pleased to be treated as a conspirator, Rooney nodded eagerly. “We’ll just wait for him, won’t we, Jen?”
Je
The week would be up March 9. And Erich’s birthday was March 8.
He would be here on the eighth. She was sure of it. If the sheriff and Mark suspected he was coming, they might insist on trying to hide some policemen around the farm. But Erich would know.
If the girls were still alive, this was her last chance to get them back. Erich was losing whatever grip he had on reality.
In the next week, Je
The second… the third… the fourth… the fifth… the sixth… Don’t let it snow again. Don’t let the roads be impassable. The seventh. On the morning of the seventh the phone rang. A person-to-person call from New York.
It was Mr. Hartley. “Je
“Fine, we’re fine.”
“Je
“Yes.”
“They were having the paintings cleaned. And, Je
“Stop them! You have to stop them!”
“Stop them? Je
“I’ll tell Erich. Thank you, Mr. Hartley.” Long after she put the phone down, Je