The minute Wilson dropped him off, Alan rushed into his house. His parents had not yet returned from golf. He ran to the landline in the living room and paused for a moment as he groped for Rich’s number. Rich answered on the first ring.
“Rich, this is Alan. Where are Stan and Bobby?”
“They’re here at the pool with me.”
“Listen, a detective had me go down to his office at the courthouse. He kept asking about my fight with Kerry. I told him that I stayed with you guys at Nellie’s until we all left together. You got to promise you’ll back me up. Otherwise, they’ll think I killed Kerry. You know I would never hurt her. You know that. Ask the other guys now.”
“They can hear you. I have it on speaker.”
“Rich, ask them. Ask them.”
As he held the phone, Alan could hear his three friends say, “Sure, I will. We’re with you. Don’t worry.”
“Thanks guys. I knew I could count on you.”
Alan hung up the phone and burst into sobs.
? ? ?
After the call Bobby, Rich and Stan looked at one another. All three of them were reviewing exactly what happened last night. They still had a hard time believing that Kerry was dead.
Like Alan, they would be leaving soon for college. They had gone to a movie and afterward went to Nellie’s for pizza.
They were there at 10:45 P.M. when Alan had stomped in. All they needed to do was look at his face to know he was angry. He pulled up a chair at the table where they were sitting and signaled to the waitress, pointing at the individual pizzas at the table and indicating he wanted a plain one.
It was clear to the others that he had been drinking. Rich asked if he had taken an Uber to Nellie’s.
Alan’s slurred response was “No, I’m fine.”
The bigger room by this time was mostly empty. The crowd in the bar area where they were sitting had gathered to watch the Yankees. The game against Boston was in extra innings. The shouts and clapping made the room noisy enough to prevent their conversation from being heard at neighboring tables.
Stan was the first to speak. “Alan, it’s pretty obvious you’ve been drinking a lot. This is a popular hangout for cops. The Waldwick police station is right around the corner.”
“Don’t worry about me,” Alan snarled. “I got here okay; I’ll get home okay.”
“What’s eating you?” Bobby asked, annoyed at Alan’s tone. “It’s not even eleven. How was Kerry’s party? Is it over already?”
“It sucked,” Alan said. “I walked out. That jerk Chris Kobel was hanging all over Kerry. I told him to leave and Kerry started in on me.”
“She’ll get over it,” Bobby said. “You two are always fighting and making up.”
“Not this time. Right in front of me, Chris was telling her they should try to arrive at BC at the same time so he can help her move in. He’s moving in on her and didn’t care if I heard him.”
Before the other three could comment, Alan heard a ping from his cell phone signaling that he had received a text. He reached into his shirt, pulled out his phone and quickly read a message. It was from Kerry. Using two fingers, he typed a response.
The waitress came over with his steaming pizza and Alan asked for a Coke. As he devoured the slices and sipped his drink, it was obvious he was calming down and sobering up. The other three sensed that the exchange of texts had toned down the argument. They started following the Yankee game more closely when each team hit three-run home runs in the twelfth inning.
After fifteen minutes Alan pushed back his chair. “Kerry said everybody had to be out by eleven o’clock. It’s twenty past. I’m going to swing by her house and straighten things out.”
“Fine,” Bobby said.
“Good luck,” Stan added.
“Are you sure you’re okay driving?” Rich asked. “Why don’t you stay and watch the game?”
“I’m fine,” Alan said in a voice that made it clear the conversation was over.
A minute later the waitress came over with Alan’s check. Not seeing him, she asked, “Is one of you taking care of this?”
“Give it to me,” Rich said. “I’ll collect from him tomorrow. Assuming he remembers he came here tonight.”
Twenty minutes later the Yankees scored the winning run and they decided it was time to call it quits. They piled into Stan’s car and he dropped them off at their homes.
10
It was much too early to pick up Jamie at his job. Instead Marge slipped into a pew at St. Gabriel’s church and began to pray. At two-thirty she drove to the Acme parking lot and managed to find a spot where she could see him the minute he left the store.
She spent that half hour in continued prayer. “Dear merciful Blessed Mother, please help the Dowlings find a way to cope with their tragedy. And please, don’t let it be that Jamie had something to do with it. Jack, if only you were here to help us. He needs you.” It was a prayer she had made to her husband over the five years since he had his fatal heart attack.
“Dear God, You know he would never hurt anyone. But if he thought he was just playing, and he’s so strong—please—”
An image of Jamie holding Kerry underwater haunted Marge’s mind. Suppose Jamie saw her in the pool and started to go down the steps. Maybe when she was swimming near him, he reached down to grab her. They used to play a game—who could stay underwater longer? Suppose he held her under until she was—?
Marge’s agonized thinking was broken only by the sight of Jamie coming out of the store holding two heavy grocery bags in each hand. She watched as he followed an older woman to her car. Jamie waited while she used her key to pop open the trunk. He hoisted up the bulging plastic bags and placed them gently into her trunk. He is so strong, Marge thought with a shudder.
Jamie closed the trunk and started across the parking lot. He walked over to a waiting limo and shook hands with his coworker Tony Carter, who was opening the door and stepping into the backseat. Marge heard Jamie yell “Have fun!” as the SUV pulled away.
A delighted smile came over his face when he saw her. Waving the way he always did, with his palm pushed forward and his fingers back, he walked over to the car, opened the door and got in beside her.
“Mom, you came to pick me up,” he announced, his voice triumphant.
Marge leaned over and kissed her son as she smoothed back the sandy hair on his forehead.
But Jamie’s happy smile quickly evaporated, and his voice became very serious. “Mom, are you mad at me?”
“Why would I be mad at you, Jamie?”
For a long moment a troubled look came over his face. That moment gave Marge time to look at him and, as always, realize what a handsome young man he was.
Jamie has Jack’s blue eyes and even features, his six-foot height and perfect posture. The only difference was that Jamie had been deprived of oxygen during a difficult birth, and it had damaged his brain.
She could see that he was trying to remember why she might have been upset with him.
“My sneakers and socks and jeans got wet,” he said haltingly. “I’m sorry. Okay?”
“How did they get wet, Jamie?” Marge asked, trying to sound matter-of-fact as she waited before turning the key to start the car.
Jamie’s eyes were pleading. “Don’t be mad at me, Mom.”
“Oh, Jamie,” Marge said quickly, “I’m not mad at you. But I just need for you to tell me what happened when you went over to Kerry’s pool.”
“Kerry was swimming,” Jamie said while looking down.
She was fully dressed, Marge thought. I saw her when Steve carried her out of the pool.
“Did you see her swimming in her pool?”
“Yes, she went swimming,” he said, not making eye contact with his mother.
She may have been still alive when he saw her, Marge thought to herself. “Jamie, did you ask Kerry if you could go swimming with her?”
“Yes, I did.”
“What did she say to you?”