State lottery. Would you feel like you were next in line to win?”
“I’d probably at least go out and buy a ticket,” Ellen said. She studied me for a moment, then said, “I think you’re talking out of your ass. We should put the house on the market and get the hell out of here.” Then she got out of her chair and went back inside.
To be honest, even as I was saying it, I knew I was talking out my ass, too.
WE HAD SEVERAL CALLS from reporters. A young woman from the
Promise Falls Standard
tried to get a quote out of Ellen when she answered the phone, and when I took two different calls from the
Times Union
and the
Democrat-Herald
in Albany, I said I had nothing to say. Something I’d learned while working for the mayor’s office was that it was very rare someone’s life got better after being quoted in a newspaper. I also spotted an assortment of TV news vans up on the highway at different times through the day, but the cops weren’t letting anyone come down the lane. I figured Barry would be happy to answer questions for the cameras. He loved to be on TV, loved to see himself on the evening news. I just hoped he thought to tuck in his shirt beforehand. I wasn’t sure viewers were ready for a shot of his hairy, perspiring gut.
When cops weren’t actually questioning us, they were wandering all over the place. Guys in white Hazmat suits had been through the Langley home. Others were wandering through the backyard of the house, like they were examining each blade of grass. One time, looking out our front window, I caught glimpses of them taking baby steps through the woods, searching for what, I had no idea. Later in the day, a towing firm on contract with the Promise Falls Police Department hauled away Albert Langley’s Saab SUV and Donna Langley’s Acura.
Late afternoon, the phone rang yet again and I picked up.
“Jim.”
There aren’t that many people who can put so much into one word. Who can, in doing nothing more than speaking your own name to you, somehow assert their authority and sense of superiority. Conrad Chase packed arrogance and pretension and condescension into a single syllable like he was stuffing an overnight bag with a truckload of cow shit. Maybe he was entitled to. He was a former professor who’d become the president of Thackeray College, a onetime bestselling author, and on top of all that, he was Ellen’s boss. He’d been involved in our lives, in one way or another, from the moment we’d moved to Promise Falls, and maybe by now I should have found a way to tolerate him. But some things don’t come easily to me.
“Yeah,” I said. “Conrad.”
“Jim,” Chase said, “I just heard about Albert. And Donna, and their boy, Adam, too? Good God, it’s beyond imagining.”
“That’s right, Conrad.”
“How are you folks doing? How’s Derek? He and Adam were friends, weren’t they? And Ellen? How’s she bearing up?”
“I’ll put her on.”
“No, that’s okay, I don’t want to disturb her.”
Of course he didn’t.
“I just wanted to see how you all were doing. Illeana and I, we’re terribly upset about all this, and while it’s horribly tragic for the Langleys, it must be a shock for you, living right next door to something like this. Did you hear anything?”
“Not a thing.”
“They were all shot, isn’t that right?”
“That’s my understanding.”
“Three people, shot to death, Jesus, and you didn’t hear anything?”
Like it was our fault. Or maybe just mine. If I’d heard something, if I’d heard the first shot, maybe I could have prevented it from being the total bloodbath it turned out to be.
“No,” I said. “We didn’t hear anything.”
“Do the police know what happened?” Conrad asked. “Surely to God it wasn’t a murder-suicide kind of thing.”
“Doesn’t appear to be that,” I said. “But beyond that, I really don’t know.”
“Illeana and I, we’ll drop by, see how you’re doing,” he said.
“We’ll
“I’d probably at least go out and buy a ticket,” Ellen said. She studied me for a moment, then said, “I think you’re talking out of your ass. We should put the house on the market and get the hell out of here.” Then she got out of her chair and went back inside.
To be honest, even as I was saying it, I knew I was talking out my ass, too.
WE HAD SEVERAL CALLS from reporters. A young woman from the
Promise Falls Standard
tried to get a quote out of Ellen when she answered the phone, and when I took two different calls from the
Times Union
and the
Democrat-Herald
in Albany, I said I had nothing to say. Something I’d learned while working for the mayor’s office was that it was very rare someone’s life got better after being quoted in a newspaper. I also spotted an assortment of TV news vans up on the highway at different times through the day, but the cops weren’t letting anyone come down the lane. I figured Barry would be happy to answer questions for the cameras. He loved to be on TV, loved to see himself on the evening news. I just hoped he thought to tuck in his shirt beforehand. I wasn’t sure viewers were ready for a shot of his hairy, perspiring gut.
When cops weren’t actually questioning us, they were wandering all over the place. Guys in white Hazmat suits had been through the Langley home. Others were wandering through the backyard of the house, like they were examining each blade of grass. One time, looking out our front window, I caught glimpses of them taking baby steps through the woods, searching for what, I had no idea. Later in the day, a towing firm on contract with the Promise Falls Police Department hauled away Albert Langley’s Saab SUV and Donna Langley’s Acura.
Late afternoon, the phone rang yet again and I picked up.
“Jim.”
There aren’t that many people who can put so much into one word. Who can, in doing nothing more than speaking your own name to you, somehow assert their authority and sense of superiority. Conrad Chase packed arrogance and pretension and condescension into a single syllable like he was stuffing an overnight bag with a truckload of cow shit. Maybe he was entitled to. He was a former professor who’d become the president of Thackeray College, a onetime bestselling author, and on top of all that, he was Ellen’s boss. He’d been involved in our lives, in one way or another, from the moment we’d moved to Promise Falls, and maybe by now I should have found a way to tolerate him. But some things don’t come easily to me.
“Yeah,” I said. “Conrad.”
“Jim,” Chase said, “I just heard about Albert. And Donna, and their boy, Adam, too? Good God, it’s beyond imagining.”
“That’s right, Conrad.”
“How are you folks doing? How’s Derek? He and Adam were friends, weren’t they? And Ellen? How’s she bearing up?”
“I’ll put her on.”
“No, that’s okay, I don’t want to disturb her.”
Of course he didn’t.
“I just wanted to see how you all were doing. Illeana and I, we’re terribly upset about all this, and while it’s horribly tragic for the Langleys, it must be a shock for you, living right next door to something like this. Did you hear anything?”
“Not a thing.”
“They were all shot, isn’t that right?”
“That’s my understanding.”
“Three people, shot to death, Jesus, and you didn’t hear anything?”
Like it was our fault. Or maybe just mine. If I’d heard something, if I’d heard the first shot, maybe I could have prevented it from being the total bloodbath it turned out to be.
“No,” I said. “We didn’t hear anything.”
“Do the police know what happened?” Conrad asked. “Surely to God it wasn’t a murder-suicide kind of thing.”
“Doesn’t appear to be that,” I said. “But beyond that, I really don’t know.”
“Illeana and I, we’ll drop by, see how you’re doing,” he said.
“We’ll
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