Justin nodded.
“Dorothy’s house?”
My hands started shaking.
And something about that hesitation terrified me more than the police cars.
The second officer asked, “How well do you know Dorothy?”
Justin frowned.
“I mow her yard.”
“Anything else?”
He hesitated.
“What else, Justin?”
And something about that hesitation terrified me more than the police cars.
“What else, Justin?”
He looked at me.
“Just little stuff.”
The officers exchanged a glance.
I wondered whether Dorothy had mistaken Justin for someone older.
The older officer pulled out his phone.
“We found these in Dorothy’s kitchen.”
One note said, JUSTIN COMES TUESDAY.
Another said, ASK JUSTIN ABOUT THE MAILBOX.
Another said, JUSTIN KNOWS WHERE THE GARDEN KEY IS.
“She forgets stuff sometimes.”
For one second, I wondered whether Dorothy had mistaken Justin for someone older, someone responsible for things he shouldn’t know.
I stared at my son.
“What?”
Justin shifted his weight.
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