Suddenly he compared his wife to a Praying Mantis: just as the insect kills his companion after the relationship that serves only to procreate, in the same way, she had killed their relationship after having had Harry. Annoyed by his own thoughts, he snorted and turned on his side in trying to sleep. Eve entered the room continuing to smooth her hair with her fingers untangling a knot. She put the brush on the dresser, mirrored herself one last time and slipped under the sheets. "Goodnight," she said, turning off the light and then turned her back.
"Goodnight?" James said, turning the light back on, Eve gave him a nervous glance. "Why, now what? I'm destroyed and I want to sleep!"
"How can you be so calm? Our son was away for a day and a half, he came back with torn clothes and broken glasses but no a single scratch on him. Furthermore, he does not remember where he was nor what he did for all that time; we have been searching for him by sea and by mountains and there was no single sign of him. Then suddenly, as he had disappeared, he reappeared magically, even so, everything is fine now? As if nothing ever happened? And all you can say is "goodnight"?"
"Why? What do you think we should do now? Do you want to call the FBI to find out what happened? My son has come home and that's enough for me, and let it be enough for you too!"
"I can't!" James murmured, shaking his head. She sighed dejectedly.
"He got probably lost, perhaps he found slept in a barn or a cabin for hunting and spent the night there. And maybe he doesn't want to tell us the truth because he fears our reaction" she strived to say it stretching her arm toward the light switch.
"When he told us he didn't remember anything he wasn't lying!" James insisted.
"How can you be sure of that?"
"You also know that Harry doesn't tell lies! And in any case, this fact changes everything, we will have to review the margin of trust and freedom that we can grant him! This is a big step backward" he concluded dismayed.
"How can you say so? I think you're exaggerating".
"Do you think I'm exaggerating? Think if it happens again, maybe next time we might not be lucky enough to see him again! Do you know how many people disappear every day without leaving a trace?"
"It won't happen again, don't worry!" she cut him off with her firm expression. Shocked by the excess of security in the tone of his voice, James oddly looked at her.
"I mean, my guess is it was just a prank, I don't think he will do it again... and how can you even presume to know how I feel about it? I'm exhausted, I stayed awake all night the same just like you! Now I'm begging you, please turn the light off, I really need to get some sleep!"
James thought about them, when in the middle of the night together they were wandering in the woods searching for Harry, shouting his name as loud as they could, and concluded that perhaps he had judged her too harshly. Eve had not stopped searching for a moment, even when he had returned to base camp to take stock.
"You're right ... I'm sorry, that was mean of me" he admitted, and she looked at him seriously. "You're forgiven," she told him after a moment.
"Are you serious?"
"Yes, as long as you let me sleep now ... please, I need it so much" Eve said, then turned on her side and curled up. James turned off the light and turned to her, made his chest stick to her back and pushed his knees into the crook of her bent legs, then gently laid his hand on her hip and moved a little closer. He had naively dared to hope that episode could have helped them to be closer, to reopen a speech that had by then been closed, but in response, she took off his hand and let it fall a little further. "I said goodnight" she pointed out, pushing toward the edge of the bed to get away from that contact.
"Goodnight" James replied, annoyed and disappointed, then turned away.
After continuing to change position and turning over for at least half an hour James had succumbed to fatigue, the digital alarm display showed it was seven minutes past three in the morning and he had been snoring loudly for over four hours. Eve put her hand on his shoulder and shook him vigorously, he mumbled something in protest and curled up pulling the sheet towards him. She began to count mentally and before she could even arrive at ten James was snoring again, stronger than before, so she turned on the lamp and studied him to make sure he was really sleeping soundly. When she was sure nothing would have wakened him up, neither firing a cannon shot, she turned off the lamp and took a flashlight from the drawer of the dresser, slipped silently out of bed and after putting on her robe she climbed the stairs leading to the attic.
In the attic, she started looking for a faulty wooden skirting board element, once she found it, pushed the table away and slipped her hand into the slot to pull out an old leather bag. She opened the zipper and spilled the contents onto a dusty carpet, chose what she needed and repeated the stairs. She went back into the master bedroom, holding a small bottle to which she had already removed the cap, then she went around the bed to join James, stopped in front of him and after a brief hesitation she placed the bottle just under his nose for a couple of seconds. He jumped suddenly and opened his eyes, opened his mouth as if to say something but unable to speak, because he instantly fell into an even deeper sleep. Immediately afterward, Eve went to the bedroom and repeated the same treatment to Harry, who had the same reaction as James, then took an object similar to a metal clamp from a pocket of her robe; an object that ended with a magnetic hemisphere placed on top of a telescopic stem. She pulled the boy's head abruptly, grabbed the pliers and stretched the stem towards his face while wondering how she could not be sorry for what she was doing to him. She looked at him again for a few seconds, her arms firm, still being completely indifferent, then she summarily slipped the device into his nose because she was in a hurry to go back to sleep.
The Rockland Sheriff's Office controlled the entire Knox County coastline and much of the hilly area behind it. It had been placed inside an old neoclassical building set in open countryside, near the Provincial road that connected South Hope to Rockville and even to the vastness of the area it was perfectly equipped. Helen hardly up to the steps until the entrance, framed by the stubby white columns that supported the pediment, she mumbled a greeting to the agent Dower who was working in the gatehouse and slipped furtively into the hallway reluctantly. The woman had never been happier to work in such a quiet town, she knew that probably that morning would run off without trouble and she would have enough time to recover. She needed to sit and stay as long as possible with her eyes closed because she felt like she was falling apart; in fact, she spent the whole night trying to delete the image of that frightened boy clinging to the handlebars of his bicycle.
She walked through the hallway with his head down, pointing straight to her office, responding with nods and grunts to the greetings of the agents she met along the way.
"Helen" the receptionist tried to stop her with her shrill voice, but Helen as responding raised an arm, to say "whatever it is, it can wait", and went straight on her way. Cindy looked at her walking away shocked because she didn't expect such an answer, then shrugged, thought "worse for you!" For a moment Helen felt guilty for being so rude to her, and soon she was seized by the suspicion that probably, judging by the anxiety she had caught in her voice, that morning would not have been as quiet as she had hoped. Opening the door of her office she closed her eyes and began a loud yawn that ended when the door was closed.
"Bless you!" Exclaimed an unexpected male voice, making her jump. Despite her numb senses and the blurred vision due to two massive tears, Helen found that figure and voice vaguely familiar. She repeatedly rubbed his eyes, and when her eyes started working well again, she looked frustrated at the man who was sprawled on her chair. Dr. Stevenson was the last person she ever wanted to have to deal with that morning.
"You took it easy this morning!"He said, checking the clock, then reached for his red-orange juice, but she forced him to retract his arm with a sharp glance. While she was trying to find the words to answer in the most appropriate way, she violently scratched the little finger of his right hand, which continued to annoy her uncomfortably from the previous night. "What a nice surprise" she mumbled, "I come to work after two consecutive nights without sleeping and I find you blissful seated on my chair, with your feet crossed on my desk. And as if that was not enough you have just eaten my breakfast, and you are not just someone but a coroner. And if there is a coroner in my office, then there is a dead body coming! Am I right?"
Stevenson pointed to the corridor in the direction of the morgue, to specify that the corpse was already on the couch, then raised his hand to show his fingers open to "V" to emphasize that, indeed, the corpses were two. At first, Helen hoped that the doctor was there for a quick visit and as usual he had stopped only for one of his usual jokes, perhaps even for have his breakfast, but looking at him again she realized that on his face there was not even a shadow of a smile.
"Gosh! What a great way to start the day" she murmured, despaired. He spread his arms as if to clear his name and then pointed to the dust-covered treadmill set in a corner of the office. "Do you still keep yourself fit?" He asked. She turned absently to the roller, but just a moment later she remembered that this was one of his usual tricks, her head snapped back and surprised him with his open hand reaching back for her juice. Helen put her hands on her hips and looked at him annoyed, then he faked to sweep away some crumbs from the desk and then tidied up his shirt.
"I haven't lighted it for a while..." Helen said turning around the table while he got up to let her seat, she sat down and scratched her little finger again, yawning again.
"What happened to your finger? It seems to be pretty bad".
"What do you mean?" She asked, looking down to take a look until then she had not considered that annoyance and it appeared alarming.
"I don't know, from the color of the skin it would seem the beginning of necrosis ... if I were you I would immediately jump to a dermatologist to get a check" Stevenson advised her, grabbing her wrist to look at it better, but she abruptly pulled her hand back. "Forget my finger and tell me who's there!" She said, then grabbed the glass and took a couple of sips of juice because she began to feel her throat dry.
"I don't know, they didn't have documents and their car doesn't have a license plate" the doctor informed her, and she threw her eyes to the sky, cursing it because that was the worst way to start an investigation. "Where were they found?"