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"Reminds me of the movie On the Beach," he said. "The end of the world."
"It feels like that tonight," I said. For some reason, I was whispering. It did seem to fit what we were doing and where I expected we were going.
He nodded, and we drove on. A little ways past Karen's mother's house, Jesse pulled to the side and parked. He turned off the engine arid the lights and just sat there quietly, gazing into the rearview mirror. For me, the silence was unnerving.
"Why are we doing this? What do you hope to accomplish, Jesse?" I asked.
"I could tell from the way Dad reacted, and I imagine the way the policemen you spoke to reacted, that the part of Karen's story involving Harry Pearson and his dead mother didn't fly," Jesse said. "My guess is they didn't even bother to check out that part, but we will."
"How?"
"C'mon," he said, grabbed his camera, and got out.
I followed, and we started back down Main Street, hovering close to the shadows along the sidewalk. Just before Karen's mother's house, Jesse stopped. There was a small light on in what I knew to be the living room, but other than that, the house was dark.
"Looks like no one's home," Jesse muttered. He paused and gazed around again.
"What are we doing?"
"Just follow me. Stay close," he said, and cut abruptly into Karen's mother's driveway. We walked quickly, still clinging to the cover of darkness and avoiding the illumination of the streetlights.
I followed him around the garage to where Karen had described the apartment Harry's mother had lived in until she passed away. Of course, it was pitch dark inside, and the window shades were drawn down.
"Does Karen know we're doing this?" I whispered.
"No," he said. "I started to mention it, and she became very agitated. She's very frightened she'll cause more trouble for us if we get caught here."
"She's right," I said.
"Shh."
He went to one of the windows and pressed on the frame.
"Seems like it was never opened, or it's locked." "Of course, it's locked," I said. "Why shouldn't it be locked? There are probably . . ."
He went to a second window and pushed, and this time, the window moved. He paused and looked at me, and then we both froze and listened. It sounded as if someone was coming down the sidewalk in front of the house. The footsteps quickened, slowed, and then disappeared as the person walked past and toward the center of the village.
"I'm going in," Jesse said. "You stay out here and watch for anyone. If you hear anything, just whisper, and I'll come out quickly. Okay?"
"I'm scared, Jesse."
"I'm not exactly free from fear, but this could go a long way to helping Karen," he said. Then he climbed in through the window.
If my heart beat any faster, I would surely faint on the spot, I thought. It beat so hard I could hear the thumping reverberate through my bones and fill my ears. It was so loud that I wouldn't be able to hear anything else. He was so quiet inside. I was suddenly even more worried.
"Jesse," I whispered, drawing closer to the open window. "Are you all right?"
"Quiet," he returned.
I waited in- anticipation of the camera flashing, but nothing happened. What was he doing? I could hear him moving around inside. Finally, he appeared in the dark opened window. I stepped back to watch him climb out.
"What are you doing? Did you take any pictures? What did you see?"
He didn't reply. "C'mon," he said, and walked quickly back the way we had come. I followed. He was walking with his shoulders hoisted as if he were trying to keep from getting a bad chill He turned abruptly onto the sidewalk, not even stopping to look back to see if I were right behind him. Then he started to cross the street, practically running. I did run to catch up. He got into the car, and I went around to get in on the passenger side.
He didn't start the engine. He just sat there, staring ahead.
"What is it, Jesse? What's going on? Why did you come out without taking any pictures?" I asked.
