Though Carly Neath’s father said neither he nor his wife would have anything to say to the press, Matthew thought it was a good idea to go over to their house anyway. People could easily say no on the phone, but when actually face-to-face with another human being, they sometimes changed their minds. Without the intimidation of a camera crew, Matthew felt he might have a better chance of getting the Neaths to talk with him.
He found the house in the middle of the block on Surf Avenue. There were no shutters or window boxes on the aluminum-sided colonial. Though it was a bland dwelling now, Matthew suspected that beneath the worn white siding there were the wooden boards and elaborate moldings of the original Victorian structure. Someone’s idea of progress had left the house totally without charm.
He knocked on the front door, waited, and then knocked again. Matthew couldn’t be sure if the Neaths were inside or not. He pressed his cupped hands against the window and tried to see through the glass.
“They’re in there all right.”
Matthew spun around in the direction of the voice. A very elderly man stood on the porch of the house next door.
“I know they’re in there in case that daughter of theirs calls. They don’t want to miss out if the police call with news, neither.”
Matthew walked away from Neaths’ front door, sensing that this old guy, with his bony shoulders and arms sticking out of his sleeveless undershirt, might be a good source of information. He went next door and struck up a conversation.
“So, I guess you know Carly?”
“Yep. I’ve known her since she was a little kid. Always gettin’ into everything, that one. It looks like she got into something bad this time.”
“Have any theories on what might have happened to her?” Matthew asked.
The old man shrugged his shoulders. “I have my suspicions.”
Matthew waited for the man to continue.
“You know, it’s tough gettin’ old. You don’t even think about that now, do you, sonny?”
“Not much,” Matthew said, noticing the flaking skin at the man’s temples. There were a couple of teeth missing from the old guy’s bottom gums, and a vague odor of decay reached Matthew’s nostrils.
“I didn’t think about it when I was your age either. But it comes before you know it. And it brings with it all sorts of miserable things. For me, the worst is not sleepin’. Can’t tell you when the last time I slept through the night was.”
“That’s too bad,” said Matthew, wishing the old codger would get to the point. The man took a seat in the rocking chair on his porch.
“It was so hot last night. Lord, was it hot. I don’t have airconditionin’. Don’t usually need it here, even in the summertime. And it costs money to run those things, and that’s something I don’t have enough of.”
Matthew was growing impatient. He had to keep himself from tapping his foot on the porch floor. Instead, he nodded in agreement, as if he understood the old man’s problems.
“So I came out here to sit in my rocker because I thought it would be cooler. But it wasn’t. I expect it was just about as hot as inside.”
Matthew anticipated where this was going and wanted to move things along. “So you saw something from here on your porch last night?”
The man rocked. “Yep.”
“What did you see?” The old guy seemed to be enjoying stringing this out.
“I could see Carly walkin’ up the street. That yellow hair of hers was catchin’ the moonlight.”
“What time was that?” Matthew asked.
“About eleven-thirty, quarter to twelve.”
“Did you say anything to her, or did she say anything to you?”
“She didn’t even see me, and I didn’t have nothin’ to say to her.”
The elderly man paused, enjoying his power. After rocking for a minute, he continued. “Well, I might as well tell you what I told the police when they were here today askin’ all their questions. I wasn’t a bit surprised when I saw it. You know these kids today, comin’ and goin’ at all hours of the day and night. Even the girls. In my day, no self-respectin’ girl would be out by herself alone at night like that. Even here in Ocean Grove.”
“What did you see?” Matthew pressed him.
“I seen her walk right by her own house and keep on goin’.” The old man shook his head. “Yep. She just kept on walkin’. Toward the ocean. Late at night like that. It’s a disgrace what young girls do today.”
“So, you said you had your suspicions about what happened to Carly.” Matthew tried diverting the man’s attention from the mores of today’s youth. “What do you think happened?” He leaned forward to hear.
“Like I told the police. I think that guy got her.”
“Guy? What guy?”
“The one that was following along behind her. She didn’t see him, but he sure was makin’ a beeline for her.”