Ursula stopped when she came alongside the car. She stared in the passenger window for a moment, and then she stepped forward and beat against the glass with the side of her fist. Then the door was opening, and Ursula’s dad was stepping out into the cold just as Jared arrived.
“Jesus, Dad,” Ursula said, her voice becoming thin and brittle in the cold. She sounded like a little girl. “First Mom. And now you?”
“Ursula . . .”
Her dad held his hands out in front of him, trying to get her to calm down and listen. Jared couldn’t tell what she’d seen in the car that set her off.
“And you’re doing it with her,” Ursula said, the words coming out of her mouth like spittle.
“We were just talking.”
“You were fucking kissing her.”
“No, I wasn’t. Ursula, calm down.”
Ursula stormed off toward the front of the house with her dad following along, calling her name. Jared watched as they went through the front door and inside.
When they were gone, he looked into the car, through the still-open passenger door.
“Mom?” he said.
“Get in.”
“Is everything okay?” he asked.
“It’s fine. Come on, it’s cold.”
Jared got in and closed the door. The car felt warm, mercifully warm, and he held his hands up to the vents as his mom backed out of the driveway. When they were in the street and moving away, she asked, “What the hell are you doing running around at night? After I called the police and told you to stay inside?”
“I went to find Ursula. I wanted to see why she was saying those things.”
“And? Do you think that gets you off the hook?”
“She just acted like it was more complicated than I could understand.” He pictured her sitting there on that bench, wiping the tears off her face. He felt awful for her. Even Ursula, tough-minded, sharp-tongued Ursula, broke down sometimes and lost her shit. “She was crying. I think there was something else going on. I went to a party at Kirk Embry’s house. That’s where Ursula was. Bobby Allen was there too. They both said kind of the same thing, even though they weren’t together when I saw them. They both said they were leaving. Like they both were thinking of getting out of town for good.”
His mom didn’t respond. She stared straight ahead, her eyes on the road. Jared could see she’d learned something, that ideas and thoughts percolated through her brain.
And he wondered what they could have been doing in the car that made Ursula freak out so much. Had Ursula said they were kissing? He couldn’t just ask, could he?
“Did you learn anything, Mom?”
They turned onto their street. His mom didn’t answer. She just shook her head as if she’d been made privy to some piece of particularly disturbing information. He wanted to press her for more, but the distant look on her face told him to hold his tongue. They were pulling into the driveway, and he knew if he gave her time to cool down, she’d probably tell him everything he wanted to know.
Not that he wanted to know if she was making out with Ian.
That he might be happy to remain in ignorance about.
His mom seemed to read his mind. Like always. “For the record, we were not kissing. I gave Ian a hug. He’s upset.”
“That’s cool,” he said. “I’m not worried about it.”
She stopped the car and killed the engine. Before the lights went off, something moved near the front of the house. A person. Only the legs were visible at first as they moved toward the car. Khaki pants and white sneakers moving across the lawn. Then he passed through the cone of the headlights. A man, tall and thin and almost sixty, whom Jared had never seen before.
His mom gasped.
“Do you know that guy?” she asked.
“No.”
“That’s not—”
“No, it’s not her dad. It’s not William Rose.”
“Then who the hell is it?” she asked.
His mother reached for her purse. She pulled out her phone and a canister of pepper spray. The man walked to the driver’s side of the car and waved. He wore a lopsided grin, and the zipper of his winter coat was open, revealing an untucked checked shirt.
“I’m calling the police,” she said.
“Hold it, Mom.”
“Who knows who this creep is?”
She lifted the phone. The man gestured. He wanted the window rolled down.
“Mom, just crack the window. See what he wants. Maybe he’s selling something.”
“This late?” His mom handed Jared the phone. She kept the pepper spray. “If he tries anything, he’s getting a face full of this. And then you call the police.”
“I’m on the case, Mom.”
She pressed the button, opening the window less than an inch.
“Hi,” the man said. His grin grew wider. He looked like somebody’s grandpa.
“Who are you?” his mom asked.
“Are you Jenna?” he asked. “Of course you are. I recognize you. I recognize Jared too. I’ve seen you on TV and the papers.”
“Are you a cop?” Jared asked. “Or a reporter?”
The man laughed. “Heavens no. I’m Rick Stearns.”