ERICA IS HEADING EAST ON the Mass Pike. She calls Dirk.
“It’s Erica. I’m in Massachusetts. We need to talk.”
“What about?”
“I’d rather tell you in person. Can I stop in? Is Jenny home?”
“Erica, what the hell is this about? You can’t see Jenny on this short of notice. And what do we need to talk about?”
“Something important.”
There’s a sigh, and then, “When will you be here?”
“In about a half hour. Is Linda there?”
“She is.”
“Can you come out and meet me in my car first?”
“If this is some kind of game—”
“It’s not a game, Dirk. I’m in a silver Accord.”
Erica arrives in Dedham and drives through the quiet suburban streets—who knows what terrible things go on inside these tidy houses? She reaches Dirk’s modest rental. She has an urge to rush into the house and take Jenny in her arms, but she waits. Dirk comes out, walks to the car, and gets in, frowning. He’s put on some weight and lost a little more hair. Was she really married to this man—this stranger sitting a foot away from her—just two years ago? It feels like a hundred lifetimes.
“What’s all this about?” he asks.
“Dirk, I’m caught up in something serious, maybe dangerous. It will be over soon—one way or another. In the meantime, I’ve hired a security company to watch Jenny.”
“Are you telling me you’ve put my daughter in danger? Again?”
Erica thinks she might throw up. Because his words are true. She has put Jenny in danger. She never should have started her investigation. She’s a fool, thinking she can save the world. How about saving your own daughter first, Erica? You mess up everything you touch—
“You can’t ever, ever change where you come from. And deep down, you’ll never be better than any of us.”
Erica slumps against the steering wheel, fighting exhaustion, fighting fear, fighting herself. “Yes, I have. I have put her in danger. And I’m very, very sorry that I have. But the only way out of this is forward. The detective will watch over Jenny, mostly from his car, here and at school. You won’t even notice him. And you and Linda should keep a close eye on her, too, a very close eye.”
Dirk looks down at his hands, his mouth tight. “I can’t believe you brought this on us.”
Erica explodes. “Well, I did. Okay, I did. I’m a horrible, terrible mother, I’ve made nothing but mistakes, I’ve scarred Jenny forever! Is that what you want to hear? Is it? Is it? Is it!” Erica feels the hot tears welling up behind her eyes—she uses every ounce of her energy to will them down. And then her stomach hollows out, and she says in a quiet voice, “I’m just trying my best, Dirk. I’m just trying my very best.”
The car is quiet for a long moment and then Dirk says, “We’ll keep a close eye on Jenny.”
“Thank you. I’d like to see her now.”
They get out of the car and head into the house. It’s neat and clean and Erica feels a terrible stab of envy and longing. Linda comes out from the kitchen, wiping her hands on her apron. She’s a handsome woman, fit and freckled, and Erica wants to hate her, but she can’t, she can only feel a begrudging gratitude—and a sense of urgency.
“Thank you for everything you do for Jenny,” Erica says. “She may be in danger. Dirk will fill you in.”
Linda’s face darkens.
Dirk calls upstairs, “Jenny, there’s someone here to see you.”
“Who is it, Daddy?” Jenny appears at the top of the stairs, looking heartbreakingly beautiful. “Mommy!” She flies down the stairs, and Erica sweeps her up and twirls her around, and they’re both laughing —or is Erica crying?—and she never wants to let her go.
“What are you doing here, Mom?”
Erica kneels so they’re eye to eye. “I came to see you.”
“I’m doing my homework.”
“I’m sorry to interrupt.”
“You’re more important than homework.”
Erica brushes Jenny’s hair off her face. “Am I?”
“Of course. You’re my mother.”
“Why don’t we take a little walk?”
“Just around the block,” Dirk says. “Dinner is almost ready.”
As Erica and Jenny head down the front walk, Erica scans in both directions, looking for anything unusual, strange cars, strange people. There’s a gray sedan parked up the street, on the other side, with a man sitting in the driver’s seat; he has an open newspaper in his hands but he’s looking over the top of it, to Jenny’s house. “Wait here one second, sweetheart.” Erica crosses to the car and says, “You are?”
“Kevin Nealy. From Sentinel.” He opens his wallet and shows Erica his license.
“I’m counting on you to protect my daughter.” Erica crosses back to Jenny.
“Who is that man, Mom?”
“He’s a nice man. He’s looking out for you. I want you to be very careful for the next couple of weeks. Don’t let any stranger get near you.”
“Why?”
“Because your mother says so. Will you promise me?”
Jenny nods, and Erica takes her hand and they start to walk. Erica wants to remember every detail—the feel of Jenny’s hand in her own, the sound of her voice as she talks about friends and school, the evening sky—but she has a hard time focusing, she can’t stop looking around, checking every car that drives by, every person they see.
“Are you okay, Mom? You seem so nervous.”
“I’m fine, honey. Remember your promise.”
“Are you going to Florida to cover the hurricane?”
“Yes, I am, tomorrow morning.”
“No wonder you’re nervous.”
They’re back in front of Dirk’s house. Erica kneels down and puts her hands on Jenny’s shoulders. Her throat tightens as she says, “Jenny, I want you to know that I love you, I love you more than anything in the world. Will you always remember that, always and forever?” Jenny nods, and Erica brushes her hair from her face, cups her chin, kisses her cheek, inhales her sweet smell. “Now go have dinner and then finish that homework.”
Erica watches as her beautiful baby girl walks up to the front door. When she gets there, she turns and says, “Be careful, Mommy.”
Erica waves, then blinks—a tiny insect must have flown into her eye. Why else would tears be flowing?