“Damn it, Amanda.” I clenched my fists, holding them down at my sides. “He could have kicked the door in once you did that.” I knew my voice came out like a sizzling hiss through pressed lips. “Do you know how easy that would have been?”
Amanda calmly went about her business. She poured tea into two mugs—she didn’t offer me any—and then passed one of the mugs to Sam, who took it with both hands and thanked her. Amanda then turned back to me.
“Do you think I don’t know that, Ryan? Do you think I didn’t learn that in my college self-defense class? Did it ever occur to you that I had my reasons?” Her voice rose a little in anger, although she kept it under control. “Maybe I want to know what’s going on around here. Maybe I thought this random guy had some information that would clear things up. And if that meant I had to open the door a crack to a stranger, I was going to do it.”
“But it’s—”
“I know what it is. I also didn’t know where you were. You ran out of here right after the police came. You could have been in danger. Or hurt. How was I supposed to know? So if this guy had information that might put my mind at ease, or that helped solve your problems, wouldn’t it make sense for me to get it?”
She’d made her case coolly and clearly. And I couldn’t argue. If I’d been in her shoes, wondering where she was, I’d have made the same choices. But I didn’t have to be happy about it.
“Okay,” I said. “I get it.”
Amanda picked up her mug and blew across the surface of the liquid. I smelled the peppermint from across the room. She took a cautious sip, and so did Sam.
“Are you going to unclench your fists and hear the rest of the story?” she asked.
I hadn’t realized I was still standing in such an aggressive manner, like I was ready to charge into a burning building. I opened my hands and loosened my posture as much as I could.
“Happy?” I asked. “Is that all this guy did or said? Did you get rid of him?”
Amanda put her mug down. Sam watched her and then me like a spectator at a tennis match. I felt certain she’d never seen any hint of marital discord on display between the two of us. Amanda and I managed to keep any issues that existed between us private. We didn’t see any point in spilling our problems out for the rest of the world to view. If anything, we did the opposite. We only showed the happiest, most polished side of our lives on social media.
“Let me ask you something first,” Amanda said. “When I described the guy, you acted like you might know him. Who is he?”
So I told her about Kyle Dornan. How he was over at Sam and Blake’s house when I went there, how he was inside their house. And how he was very distraught over what had happened to Jennifer.
“They were dating or something like that, he and Jennifer,” I said. “And so he’s taking her death pretty hard. He’s blaming Blake, but Kyle’s acting pretty strange himself. When the cops showed up at Blake and Sam’s house, Kyle ran off. I mean, he ran out of the house like it was on fire. He must have come right over here after he did that. It’s easy enough to look up an address. He knew me from the Pig. Maybe he thought he’d catch me here, or maybe he thought he could talk to you. But he’s acting guilty. And the cops want him.”
Amanda tapped her foot, her eyes squinting. “He didn’t say Jennifer’s name. I would have remembered that. But he did talk about her. He said it was terrible that the girl got killed, but that you and Blake knew all about it. He said you could tell me everything that happened to her. And so could Blake.”
Samantha gasped. I looked over at her. She was shaking her head, her eyes wide. “Why did he say that about Jennifer getting killed? If he said it that way, it must mean he’s the one who hurt her. Right? Why else would he be running around so obsessed about it?”
“If he did it, why wouldn’t he just leave town?” I asked, not expecting an answer. “He’s hanging around here a lot for a guy the cops are looking for. Blake is the one we can’t find.”
“Ryan, he’s not—”
“I’m sorry, Sam. I am. None of this makes sense. And none of us have answers.”
“You’re right,” Amanda said. “We don’t know anything.”
“Was this guy was alone? Did you see anyone else?” I asked.
“I didn’t see anyone. But I was pretty focused on him. There could have been someone out in the yard. Or waiting in a car.”
“You didn’t see a woman with him?” I asked.
“A woman? Why would you ask me that? Women don’t usually do this stupid bullying shit. That’s what men do.”
“I don’t know. I’m scrambling.”
But I really wasn’t. I was thinking of Dawn Steiner. Had she come the night before? And then Kyle that day? Were they somehow working together to harass us?
“Was that it, then?” I asked. “Did the guy leave?”
Amanda let out a long sigh. She stopped tapping her foot and shifted her weight from one leg to the other. “He grew a little more aggressive. It was subtle. But he had his hand on the door, and I saw he was pressing against it, exerting more force. Maybe he was getting ready to kick it in. I don’t know. I told him to leave. He said something about evening the score or getting even. I’m not sure which. But that scared me. More than anything else, that scared me. But then I caught a couple of breaks.”
“What?” I asked.
“Henry started crying. And the guy heard it. ‘Your baby,’ he said. And he said it in a way like he knew we had a kid. Had you mentioned that to him?”
“I don’t think so. But he heard Henry crying.”
“It’s the way he said it. Like he was confirming something, not like he was surprised. I began to worry he wanted to hurt Henry. But then the next break came. A car went down the alley. Slow, the way they have to back there. You could hear the tires over the gravel. The man—Kyle, or whatever his name is—turned to look, almost like he expected trouble.”
“He probably thought it was the cops,” I said.
“Maybe. When he turned and checked out the alley, I took my chance. I pushed on the door, slamming it shut. Then I threw the bolt and ran upstairs. He pounded on the door a few times. I heard him. But when I made it upstairs and picked up the phone, I looked through the window and saw him leaving. He went down the alley in the opposite direction of the car that had just passed. I called you right away.”
When she was finished talking, I realized I may have loosened my clenched fists, but the muscles in my neck were as taut as piano wire. Fear and relief tumbled through me like charged electrons. All I could do was move forward to give Amanda a hug. I folded her in my arms and pulled her close.
“It’s okay,” I said. “I’m glad you did what you did. You were smart to slam the door and get up to Henry.”
“And your baseball bat was right there in the corner still,” she said, her mouth against my chest. “If he’d come in, I would have taken a few swings. He wasn’t going to get near my baby.”
“He doesn’t know you started at third base in high school.”
“Damn right.”
I let her go, even though I really only wanted to hang on to her.
Sam had moved closer, the tea mug in her right hand. “We have to call the police,” she said. “You heard that. This guy Kyle, he practically confessed. And he’s out there looking for Blake for some reason. We have to call the police.”
She was absolutely right. So I did.