very old man today. Can you think of anyone who might want to hurt the girls?” he asks.
Officer Grady can see that my mind is still stuck on this Joseph Wither person and he holds up his hand to stop me from questioning him any further. “Trust me, Joseph Wither doesn’t exist. For every minute that passes we lose precious time finding Jordyn and who did this.” Impatience is creeping into his voice so I let Joseph Wither go for the moment.
“They are twelve,” I say. “I can’t think of anyone who would want to hurt them. No one. Do you think someone was trying to kidnap them?” I ask, my stomach churning as sex offenders and human traffickers and other dark thoughts lodge themselves in my brain.
“I promise you, we’ve got someone checking out that possibility. What about the girls?” Grady asks. “How did they get along with each other?”
It takes me a second for his question to register. He can’t possibly think that Jordyn did this to Cora. I open my mouth to tell him he’s crazy, wasting his time, but then shut it again. I’ve only met Jordyn a few times, and while she is always polite to me, I get the sense that she is the queen bee of the group. Violet and Cora watch her carefully, gauging Jordyn’s reaction to what they say, what they do, how they dress. But violent? No way.
“Ms. Crow?” Officer Grady raises his eyebrows, waiting for my response.
“No,” I say firmly. “Jordyn gets along just fine with Violet and Cora. I can’t imagine her hurting anyone.”
“What about Violet?” he asks pointedly. “Has she had any physical confrontations with anyone? With classmates? Friends?”
“What? No!” I say. “Violet’s never been in a fight with anyone. You don’t think Violet had anything to do with this, do you?” I ask.
“I have to ask,” Officer Grady says. “Can you think of anyone who would target the girls?” he asks, moving on, but the idea has been brought up; it’s crossed his mind. Officer Grady thinks that Violet and Jordyn may be behind the attack.
Thomas Petit
Monday, April 16, 2018
A shrill ringing yanks Thomas from his sleep. With his sons grown and his day-to-day role as owner of Petit’s Bar and Grill greatly diminished, Thomas thought perhaps he would finally be able to start sleeping past 6:00 a.m. In the early days his schedule had been brutal. For years, he tiptoed into bed well after 1:00 a.m., careful not to wake his wife and kids. The couple would get up just a few hours later to head next door to Petit’s to prepare for the lunch crowd.
He is in the house alone. A predicament that is both unfamiliar and unsettling. Tess, his wife of forty-five years, is convalescing in a skilled-care facility in Grayling after a nasty fall and his granddaughter, Jordyn, is spending the night at the Landry girl’s house. The ringing continues and Thomas realizes that this won’t be his day to lounge beneath the covers. With effort he sits up, shoves the down comforter aside and eases his legs over the edge of the bed until his toes find the cold wood floor. He shivers through the thin fabric of his boxer shorts and T-shirt.
Each step sends bolts of pain through the soles of his feet and coursing through the ropy purple veins that line his legs, the result of years of standing behind the bar. As the day goes on, the aches will become less pronounced but until then he will limp along, clutching at heavy pieces of furniture to keep upright.
“Dammit to hell,” he mutters, nearly tripping over Jordyn’s soccer ball, and the house phone stops ringing.
Thomas wishes briefly that he had kept the smartphone his youngest son, Donny, sent him last Christmas. “This one works just fine,” he said, holding up a flip phone that Jordyn called archaic. A word she said she learned in English class. It means old, Grandpa, just like you, she teased. “What do I need a fancy phone for?” Thomas asked incredulously.
“Emergencies,” Tess said.
“Shopping,” Donny offered.
“Snapchat,” Jordyn giggled.
Thomas gave them a look that let them know the topic wasn’t up for discussion and the phone disappeared back into its box and then reappeared a few months later on Jordyn’s twelfth birthday. Now he is considering buying two smartphones. One for Tess and one for himself.
With the house quiet once again, Thomas debates whether to go back to bed or keep pushing forward to