“They’re not obligated to tell you. We’ll need to clear this up. Today. Now.”
Arlo looked behind the door, back at Gert in the den, who was listening. At least the kids were still upstairs. “I’m tired of this. It’s not right. I need to take care of my family.”
The man in front put his hand on Arlo’s shoulder, and normally, he’d have acted cool. He’d have suffered through. He shoved the guy hard enough to knock out his breath.
“Sir, we have the power to remove your children from your home!” the other guy shouted.
“Sorry. I’m so sorry,” Arlo said, hands lifted in the air. “I didn’t mean it. I take it back.”
“He didn’t mean it. He’s so sorry!” Gertie said in her fake light voice that was too close to baby talk. “Better go with them, hon. Sooner you get it done, sooner it’s over and we can have dinner.”
Arlo walked back to Gertie. The investigators from CPS followed though they had not been invited inside.
“Sir? Do we need to call the police?” one of them asked.
Arlo fake smiled. The rage underneath was palpable. “You take care of yourself,” he said to Gert.
She held his eyes. “Stay calm.”
* * *
It hurt the middle of Gertie’s back to get up but she did it anyway. She went to the stoop and watched the car take Arlo away. It was late afternoon now. The sun had crested and was now dropping back down behind the tree line but the damage was done. The whole block was hot enough to melt. You could see tar sand all over. Since she’d been gone, it had risen. The park, the lawns, the street, all oil smeared and leading, like a spider’s web, to that enormous hole.
The cop car stationed for the day was parked in front of the Atlas house. Gennet was inside. Most people were at work or picking their kids up from camp or summer tutors. But Rhea was out there. She waved to Gertie like everything was great. Smiled wide and happy. Maybe the happiest Gertie had ever seen her.
An hour later, Detective Bianchi stopped by. He said he wanted to see how she was feeling, and also to relay a message from Arlo, given she probably didn’t have reception. CPS had taken him into custody. He’d be staying overnight.
“Four more families stepped forward. They’re saying Arlo may have interfered with their children, too. We’re keeping it out of the papers as best we can.”
Gertie winced, bit her lip to stay the tears. “Arlo’s not a hunter. He’s not that guy. You met him. You must know that.”
“Time will tell.”
“Fuck you. Why didn’t you search Rhea’s house? Why didn’t you look for that evidence? That’s the real crime here, that Rhea got away with hurting her own child. And now she’s getting away with framing my husband for it, just in case a body turns up and they find it scarred or God knows what, they’ll blame him and not her. Why are you helping her do this? What’s wrong with you? Is it that you can’t stand the scandal she’s making? Everybody’s rooting for poor victim Rhea, and you’re afraid to stand up? It’ll get in the news that you’re defending a pedophile?”
She hit a nerve. Or maybe he just didn’t like getting yelled at by a pregnant lady. He left. Told her that the cop driving by every hour would also relay messages between her and Arlo. She followed him to the door, wincing with pain as she moved one foot after the next. Watched him get into his car, her fury leaking away, leaving just sadness.
Rhea was still on her porch. She smiled at Gertie again. Big and cheerful.
Gertie thought about what Julia had told her, about a Pain Box hidden someplace in Rhea Schroeder’s house. She thought about how tomorrow, Rhea would be at work, and so would Fritz.
Slowly, Gertie smiled back.
Saturday, July 31
Gertie watched as Rhea drove her Honda out from the crescent and to Nassau Community College—her usual Saturday-morning routine. Then Fritz took his Mercedes and headed for BeachCo Laboratories in Suffolk County. The kids were still inside. FJ and Ella. She knew that. But she also knew this was as empty as that house was going to get.
Julia and Larry were eating cereal. As a reward for their general hardship, Arlo had selected Lucky Charms. Julia was giving Larry all her green clovers. In return, she was getting the purple horseshoes. The milk was swirled brown rainbow.
“You’re not gross,” Gertie heard her whisper. “But you’re still weird.”
“I know,” Larry answered. “You’re not as funny as you think.”
Julia chuckled, looked at him with surprise. “That was good! Good for you!”
Gertie tousled Larry’s short hair, then Julia’s blond little mop, too. “I’ll be right back,” she told them.