Booktree.ng_Forgotten-Witness

“But I still want to know how Emily got there,” Faye
insisted.
“I think my father put her there. I don’t know why. I don’t
know how he pulled it off, but the evidence doesn’t look
good.” Josie put her hands on the table and pushed back.
“What are you going to do now?” Faye asked.
“I’m going to get some air.”
***
Michael Horn put on his favorite sweater and over that a
sweatshirt that had seen better days. He had on his fleece lined
sweatpants. He pulled on his gloves and a watch cap. He left
the television playing as was his habit. Not that it would deter
the people who concerned him, but the sound of it always gave
him the feeling that things were normal when he opened the
door again. So the TV stayed on when Mark went out for his
evening run.
On the porch, he jogged in place and gave himself an
energetic hug. It was going to be a horrendously cold winter
considering the end of fall was already freezing. He looked
around the neighborhood. The Meisen’s lights were on. Mrs.
Garfield’s upstairs lights shined. In the early dark, the houses
looked a million miles away. That was too bad. He wouldn’t
mind waving at a neighbor now and again or lingering over the
fence for a chat. That’s what he got for being able to afford a
place with acreage.
Inside, the phone rang but he decided if he didn’t leave right
then he’d simply go inside and fix himself a bowl of soup and
call it a day. He tapped down the steps, saw his breath in the
air and thought he should consider moving to a smaller place.
Then he picked up speed and fell into a nice rhythm and, as
always happened, he found himself smiling. Running made
him feel free of responsibility and worry. The crisp air carried
the sound of his running shoes hitting the pavement. He paid