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I shook my head.
“Anyway,” Greg said, “there was one of those stories on the news the other day, about some sick pervert who kept a couple of women prisoner in his house for years, and one of them escaped. Well, I’ll tell you this, she didn’t escape and get herself all dressed up nice and head to the supermarket with her station wagon. I mean, if Brie were back, or had, you know, escaped or something, she’d go to the police.”
“Sure,” I said.
“I mean, come on,” he said. “Look, I know it’s hard to move on, that it’s hard to put this behind you. I was thinking, back when I found you in the tub, passed out, that was kind of a turning point. You pulled yourself together after that, despite the odds. You’ve got this new lady in your life. And you’ve got a new name, which is like starting over, right?”
“Yeah.”
“And you’re bringing in some money? Paying the bills?”
“Yeah,” I said. “Like you. A job here, a job there. About to start on finishing off someone’s basement. Did a couple of decks last month. Moderately steady.”
“Good, good, that’s all good. Don’t let whatever’s going on in that picture fuck with your head. You’ve got a good life now.”
“You’re saying I should ignore this. Pretend I never saw it.”
Greg sighed. “If that was Brie, if it really fuckin’ was her somehow, appearing out of thin air, you think the first thing she’d do is go pick up some eggs and some Tater Tots? No. She’d call you. If we’re supposed to believe that’s her in that picture, then what the hell has she been doing for six years? She go to the store and get lost? She been wandering a Walmart since the last time you saw her?”
Greg put a hand on my shoulder. “Sorry, man. That was … insensitive. I know how hard this has been on you. All this time, the not knowing, the wondering. But there’s no rational answer to this. It can’t be her. Can’t be.”
He seemed to be trying to convince himself as much as he was trying to convince me.
“Did your neighbor—what’s his name?”
“Max.”
“This Max, did he see any camera crews around or anything?”
“Camera crews?”
“Yeah. Maybe it’s one of those crime reenactment shows. You know. ‘Whatever happened to …’ kind of thing. Or some type of stunt.” His face lit up and he snapped his fingers. “I’ve got it.”
“What?”
“So this guy, the one who built that new house on your lot? It’s a nice house, right?”
“Yeah. Very.”
“Yeah, I drove by one day. Very sharp. So, someone out there wants to buy that house. But first they need to freak him out. Like, make him think a spirit that used to live on the property is coming back to haunt him and his family.”
“That’s beyond nuts.”
“They scare the guy into unloading the place at below market value.”
I sighed. “You’re insane.”
He smiled smugly. “Okay, I’m sure your explanation makes more sense.”
“I should go,” I said.
“Let me ask you something, and don’t take offense, okay?” he said.
“Go ahead.”
“What’s got you worried the most? That this lady making an appearance, it’ll get your hopes up and then they’ll get dashed, because it was a trick or a stunt? Or …”
“Or what?”
