Fade

Cabel will figure it out. This is such shit.” Captain gives her a hard look. “You know what shit is? Killing three innocent people. Think your life is bad now, try living with that.” Her voice is harsh.

Janie’s quiet.

They head back to Fieldridge.

When Captain’s cell phone rings, she glances at it and answers.

“Komisky.” She pauses. “Yes, I’ve got her.” Another pause. “Yes, she’s just fine.” She nods, glances sidelong at Janie with a grim smile, and then hangs up the phone.

“Juuust fine,” Captain repeats, her lips pressed tightly together in a thin line.

12:36 p.m.

Captain drops Janie off at home and gives her a swift hug. “You call me if you need to talk more about this stuff,” she says.

“Thanks, Captain.”

“And it’s your call, what you want to tell Cabel, if anything. Be assured it’s not my place to tell him unless it directly affects your work as partners, and even then, I’d ask you to do it. As for you not driving, I think Cabel will take that very well. He worries enough about it.

Blame me.”

Janie waves weakly as Captain pulls away. She looks sadly at Ethel, quiet and alone in the driveway. Turns and enters the house.

Not quite sure what to do now.

She goes into her room. The green notebook gleams menacingly from the place on the bed where she left it open.

Carefully Janie closes it and puts it in the box in the closet.

Drops to the bed and lies there, staring at the ceiling.

2:23 p.m.

The cool, damp wind blows briskly through Miss Stubin’s dusky Center Street purgatory.

“Now you know as much as I know, Janie.”

Janie sits silently next to Miss Stubin. Tears trickle from the old woman’s blind eyes.

There are no more words to say. Only an understanding, a resolution, a small strength, passes and grows between them. And a release. Miss Stubin’s work is done.

This is good-bye.

Slowly Miss Stubin squeezes Janie’s hand with her own gnarled fingers. “I must go see my soldier now.” And then she begins to fade away.

“Will I ever see you again?” Janie calls out anxiously.

“Not here, Janie.”

“Somewhere else, then?” Her voice is hopeful.

But the old woman is already gone.

Janie looks around. Bites her lip. In front of the dry goods store strolls a young man in uniform and a bright-eyed young woman who turns to look over her shoulder. She blows a kiss at Janie as they turn the corner into the alley and disappear from sight.

Janie remains seated on the cold, wet park bench.

Alone.

March 31, 2006, 2:25 p.m.

Cabel dreams of layering clothes and more clothes on his body. Janie pulls herself out of it. She can’t stand to watch him. She knows what the dream means. He’s trying desperately to protect himself. His heart.

When the bell rings, Cabel startles awake. Janie watches him. He glances at her, looking worried. She pleads with him with her eyes across the vast library.

He drops his.

Turns.

Goes.

April 6, 2006, 8:53 a.m.

It’s spring break. Janie awakes to a late spring snowfall, five fresh inches on the ground. Vows, one of these years, to go to Florida for spring break. Even if it means falling into dreams on the plane the entire way there. Even if it means spending the whole week alone, watching other people having fun.

She gets dressed and waits for the car Captain is sending. Brushes off Ethel so that the “For Sale” sign shows from the window again.

Shovels the sidewalk and begins on the driveway. The snow is heavy and wet with the late-morning sun shining on it.

When Carrie bursts from her house next door and sprints through the yard, Janie grins.

“Hey,” she says.

“Janie Hannagan!” Carrie says. “How dare you sell Ethel! Poor girl.

Stu’s a wreck over it.”

Janie has been ready for this question. “I can’t afford the insurance and the gas anymore, Carrie. Tell Stu I’m really sorry.” Carrie grins impishly. Whips out a wad of cash from her coat pocket.

“How much?” she asks. “I’m selling my piece of junk. Ethel told me she wants to stay in the ’hood.”

Janie’s eyes light up. “No way!”

“So way!” Carrie giggles. “How much?” Janie hops up and down in the snow. “For you? Twelve hundred bucks. It’s a bargain!”

Carrie whips out twelve one-hundred-dollar bills and shoves them at Janie. “Sold!”

“Oh my gosh. I can’t believe you’re really buying Ethel!”

“Stu lent me the moolah until my car sells. He’s probably happier than anyone. Now, take that sign out of the poor girl’s window before she gets a complex! I gotta go call Stu and tell him we’ve got a deal. We’ll figure out the paperwork later, cool?” Carrie lopes back to her house without waiting for an answer, while Janie, grinning, removes the sign from Ethel’s window and lovingly pats the snowy hood.

It’s Detective Jason Baker who picks her up, in his soccer-mom van.

“Hey, little dreamer,” he says with a grin. “I saw what you did to those bastards out on Durbin’s deck. Remind me not to get in your way.”

“I wish I remembered it,” Janie says. She likes both Baker and Cobb.

“Still no memory of any of it, huh? Yeah, that’s the way it is with those date-rape drugs. That’s also why so many rapes go unnoticed or unreported. The memory loss allows sickos, like Durbin and his ilk, to get away with that shit time after time. You really saved the day, Janie.”