“What did he look like?” Julianne cut in.
Amy thought about it for a moment. “I guess he was about Dad’s age.”
Frost jotted this down. “So, in his late fifties. And his hair?”
“I’d call it light brown, but he didn’t have a lot of it. He was going a little bald on top.” She looked at Julianne and said with a smile, “Also like Dad.”
“And his face?” prompted Julianne.
“It was…thin. Average. I know that doesn’t help much, but that’s all I can say about him. He seemed sad because he was visiting someone in the cemetery. Someone he said he knew a long time ago. Maybe that’s why he was so hungry to talk. And I just happened to be there.”
“Or was he eager to talk to you, specifically?” asked Jane.
“You think this man was targeting my daughter?” asked Julianne.
“I don’t know, Mrs. Antrim.”
Julianne sat up straight in her chair, a mother primed to defend her child. “Mike told me there was CCTV footage of him. Let me see this man.”
Frost pulled out his cell phone and opened the video file. “The camera didn’t capture a good view of his face, I’m afraid. But here’s what we have.”
Julianne took the phone and stared at the video of her daughter’s conversation with the unnamed man. The interaction was brief, barely more than two minutes, but it was surely obvious to Julianne, just as it was obvious to Jane, that the man was intently, even ferociously, focused on Amy. This was more than a casual conversation between strangers.
“Your daughter thinks she may know him from somewhere,” said Jane. “What about you, Mrs. Antrim? Do you recognize him?”
Julianne said nothing, just kept frowning at the video.
“Mrs. Antrim?”
Slowly Julianne looked up. “No. I’ve never seen him before. But the way he swoops in on Amy, it’s almost as if he was waiting for her to show up.”
“You could interpret it that way.”
“And then, just as my husband approaches, this man takes off. As if he doesn’t want to get caught. As if he knows he shouldn’t be there.” She looked at her daughter. “He didn’t tell you his name?”
“No, and I didn’t tell him mine. Really, Mom, this was just a random event. We were both at the cemetery at the same time.”
A random event, thought Jane. Like her accident.
“But looking at this video,” said Julianne. “It seems like he was waiting for you.”
“How would he know I’d be there today?” said Amy.
“Sofia’s funeral announcement was in the newspaper,” said Jane. “It was public information.”
There was a long silence as Julianne considered what that might mean. “You think this has something to do with the murder?”
“Every homicide case attracts attention,” said Jane. “Sometimes it’s the attention of odd people. People who attend the victim’s funeral because they’re curious or they’re drawn to tragedy. But every so often, the killer himself shows up. To gloat or to play games or to see firsthand the damage he’s done.”
“Oh god. And now he has his eye on Amy?”
“We don’t know that. It’s too soon to be alarmed.”
“Too soon?” Julianne’s voice rose in agitation. “I don’t think it’s ever too soon to imagine the worst when it comes to your own children.”
Amy reached out to take Julianne’s hand, the child comforting the mother, and she gave Jane an apologetic smile. “My mom worries about the littlest things.”
“I can’t help it,” said Julianne. “Ever since the day she was born—”
“Oh no. You’re going to tell that story again?”
“What story?” asked Frost.
“How I almost died as a baby.”
“Well, it’s true,” said Julianne. “She was born almost a month early.” Julianne pointed to the bookshelf, to the photograph of Amy as a black-haired infant, so impossibly tiny she looked like a doll nestled in her mother’s arms. “It was a small hospital in Vermont, and they weren’t sure she would make it. But my daughter pulled through. By the skin of her teeth, maybe, but Amy pulled through.” She looked at Jane. “I know what it’s like to almost lose my baby. So no, it’s not too soon to be alarmed.”
This Jane understood. When you have a child, you also grow new nerve endings that sense the slightest vibration of danger, of anything that’s not quite right. Julianne was feeling that now, and so was Jane, even though she had no evidence of a real threat. Just a man in a raincoat who’d been too friendly. Who’d been waiting at precisely the right time and place where a murdered woman’s friends would be gathering.