“I’m too old for Halloween anyway,” I said. “That was my last year. I’m done now.”
Her gaze bored into mine. “Are you sure?”
I smiled. “I am. I promise.”
“Good.”
Igrew up. I left Franklin. And, to my shock, I discovered that children in other parts of the country did not disappear every Halloween.
In retrospect, I realize how strange that sounds. Growing up in Franklin, though, that was the reality I knew, and I presumed it was the same everywhere else, and if they never talked about it on TV or in the newspapers, well, we didn’t talk about it either, did we?
It took a long time to acknowledge that what happened in Franklin wasnotnormal. And that’s when I began to expect a knock at my door.
Someday, that knock would come. The outside world would discover what happened in Franklin. We all had televisions now, and radios and telephones. People traveled, and secrets traveled, too.
I saw something that Halloween night when little Richie Gibson disappeared, and I knew that had not gone unnoticed. The day would come when someone would knock on my door and say, “I want to talk to you about Franklin.”
And so, I waited.
It happened while I was in a basketball court, shooting hoops with Shane. He was only eight but already beating me, and he was laughing at another of my failed throws when a voice said,
“Mr. Tucker?”
I turned to see two police officers.
“It’s about Franklin, isn’t it?” The words came before I could stop myself.
The officers glanced at one another, surprised. Then the taller one nodded gravely. “I’m afraid it is.”
I walked to Shane and bent. “It’s okay. These men just have some questions.” I ruffled his hair. “Go on home to your mom.”
He took off. I scooped up the basketball and let the policemen lead me to their cruiser.
Theofficers put me into a room for questioning. I sat there for at least an hour before two men in suits walked in. One introduced himself as Detective Myles, the other as Detective Walker. Both sat down.
For at least a minute, they just watched me. Then Walker said, “Tell me about Billy Carson.”
My instinct was to clam up. Claim to know nothing. That’s what people in Franklin would expect. But this wasn’t Franklin. These were city police—smart men who might be able to prevent more deaths.
I told the detectives how Billy had disappeared on Halloween all those years ago. Then Walker asked me about Sue. And finally Richie.
I told the truth about Sue—how I’d spotted her that Halloween night, heading to the forest. With Richie, I only said that he’d asked to come trick-or-treating with me, and my mother said no, and I wished she’d let him. How I wished she’d let him.
I didn’t admit that I’d seen Richie that night. I certainly didn’t tell them I’d faced the monster in the forest. That would have meant confessing to my greatest regret—that I hadn’t run home and told my mother about Richie. I presumed I’d seen the monster—not Richie—and the little boy was fine. But I never checked, and I couldn’t forgive myself for that.
“Let’s go back to Billy,” Walker said. “Your old neighbor. You didn’t like him much, did you?”
“No, I didn’t. We had a dog, Scamp, and Billy used to tease him through the fence.”
“But youdidlike Sue Parker, right?”
“I did. We went to Sunday school together, and we used to talk.” I smiled. “I think I had a crush on her.”
“You tried to kiss her when you were cleaning up together. She said no, but you kept trying until she told the pastor, who had a talk with you.”
I frowned. “That’s not how I remember it.”
“And what about Richie? You were jealous of him, weren’t you? It was just you and your mom, and then Richie comes along?—”
