Page 114 of Middle of the Night

Up on the ledge, Andy wraps an arm around Henry’s shoulders that could be there to keep him from falling or to keep him from escaping. In the dark, it’s hard to tell. One thing I do know is that Andy’s not interested in Henry.

I’m who he really wants.

Henry was just a way to get me here.

“Let him go, Andy,” I say, trying to keep my voice calm. Still, panic underscores every word. A thin treble I can’t get rid of. “I’m here now. That’s what you wanted, isn’t it? You and me at the place where Billy was found?”

“On the thirtieth anniversary of his death,” Andy says. “Which wasn’t the plan, but it does feel appropriate.”

I risk a step toward the outcropping. When Andy doesn’t react, I take another.

“Whatisthe plan? I know it’s not to hurt Henry. He has nothing to do with this.”

“I had to get you here somehow, didn’t I?” Andy says.

My gut tightens even as I’m flooded with pity for Andy Barringer. He’s endured unimaginable pain. His brother vanishing into thin air, his father’s death, his mother’s slow sinking into madness. It’s all too much for one person to bear. Yet none of it excuses what he’s doing now.

“I know what you’re going through,” I tell Andy. “What happened to Billy messed me up in ways I can’t even articulate.”

“Then imagine how much worse it’s been for me.” A light breeze picks up, curling a tuft of his hair into a cowlick. Finally, he resembles the seven-year-old boy always begging me and Billy to let him tag along. “Billy was your friend, but he wasn’t your brother. You don’t know what it’s like to have someone you love, someone you look up to, someone who was a constant presence in your life suddenly be gone.”

He’s wrong there. I do know. Her name was Claudia.

“But I know what it’s like to miss someone,” I say. “To miss them so much it sometimes feels impossible to keep going, yet somehow we do. And I know how that pain makes us do things we know we shouldn’t.”

I take a step closer, my hands raised so Andy can see them. When he doesn’t try to stop me, I continue to edge forward.

Slowly.

So very slowly.

Like Henry’s life depends on it.

Which it might.

Once I’m on the outcropping, I hang back, keeping enough distance between us so that Andy won’t do anything rash. Now that I’m closer to Henry, I can see how brave he’s being. With his glasses sitting crooked on his nose and swallowing back tears, he looks scared but calm. And blessedly unhurt, other than some redness caused by the rope around his wrists.

“Everything’s going to be okay, Henry,” I tell him. “I won’t let anything happen to you.”

Henry nods, and I hope he really believes me. Because I’m not sure I do. I’m concerned about how close Andy is keeping him to the outcropping’s edge. I sneak a glance at the falls below, the water at its base frothing in the moonlight.

“Come on,” I say to Andy. “Let him go.”

“Please,” Ashley says behind me. “He’s a good boy, Andy.”

“I won’t hurt him,” Andy says. “Enough boys his age have been hurt here.”

“I assume this is because you want to talk about the night Billy died,” I say. “So leave Henry with his mother and we’ll talk.”

Andy tightens his arm around Henry’s shoulders. “Or we can talk with him here.”

“Fine,” I say, not having any other choice. “When did you know they found Billy’s body here?”

“Not long after it happened. An ex told me. One of my mom’s nurses.”

I remember Ragesh mentioning how the police, assuming the remains found at the falls belonged to Billy, immediately tried to tell his family. He said the nurse had attempted to contact Andy but didn’t know if she had reached him. Obviously, she did.

“As soon as she heard about it, she left me a message,” Andy says. “She didn’t know where I was or what I was doing. Turns out I was just across the state line in Pennsylvania, doing day labor on a farm. I quit and came here. To my surprise, you were here, too. So ever since, I’ve been…lurking.”

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