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For nearly a day, I can’t think of anything but the reality that everyone around me knows the truth. Will I have to sell this house? Where will I go? Questions fill my mind, and every one I answer seems to bring up others.

I see an email from my job come in and open it to find the hiring supervisor at one of the companies I work for asking why I haven’t sent any information I’ve found out about their newest management candidate yet. In all my focus on Caroline and what she wanted when she came up here, I let my responsibilities at my job falter.

That’s never happened before.

She’s a distraction I can’t have. Even worse, she and Kimmy might be telling all my neighbors who I really am. Fucking Aaron! He probably blabbed to everyone last night. Asshole with his God bullshit.

Trust me, Aaron. God knows nothing. If he did, I wouldn’t be here right now enjoying life in the suburbs. They would have stuck a needle in my arm for what I’ve done.

I hurry to reply to the email with a lie that I’ve been sick and I’ll get her the information she needs today. I’ve never had to give any company an excuse like that. I’ve done this job for over ten years, and this is the first time I’ve been so distracted that I didn’t handle my business.

A mix of embarrassment and anger courses through me. This is Caroline’s fault. If I wasn’t so fixated on finding out the truth about her, I would have completed my search on the candidate like I always have.

My hands curl into tight fists as they hover over my laptop after clicking SEND on that pathetic email. Now I’m no better than those slacker assholes who can’t seem to do their job because they’re too busy hanging out on social media posting pictures of their fucking food or their goddamned pets.

Anger morphs into rage like I’ve never felt before. Rage at the one person who’s driven me to distraction. Rage at my next victim.

Her time is coming. I won’t forget what happened today.

Even as I want to march down the street and straight into her house to strangle her right now, I know I need to get myself under control. I can’t rush into anything. What I do takes time. It takes planning.

Most of all, it takes patience, and not the kind those clowns Tim and Harold think they’ve mastered. No, killing takes real patience, the type that makes you understand that not everything can happen today.

But it will happen. Caroline Townsend will die.

In the meantime, I need to get work done.

I’ve given up searching for information about her online. It simply doesn’t exist. That tells me she isn’t who she claims to be. That I can’t find out what I need to know the way I prefer means I’ll have to go at it another way.

A way I hate. Personally.

Talking to people never fails to exhaust me. They all have such baggage that never fails to get in the way of the truth. Not that the truth doesn’t come out eventually, but all that extraneous bullshit is tiring. I always want to shake people as they talk about the weather or their job or whatever else they want to hide behind and say, “Just get to the point, for God’s sake!”

That I can’t is only because social norms dictate we don’t do that. Shaking people and demanding they cut to the chase isn’t polite. I’ve built my entire persona I show to the world as exactly that—polite—so I know I can’t go around doing what I want to do when I’m forced to converse with someone.

Still, it’s a chore to talk to people about themselves. They use all sorts of tricks to keep the world from knowing who they really are. Not that I’m ever truly fooled. I’m not. Yet it does mean I have to waste time wading through the mountain of lies others tell to get to the truth.

So far in our only conversation, I’ve learned Caroline has a soft spot for Kimmy, she cares about this neighborhood, and she likes baking lemon bars. Oh, she also is likely a woman scorned by her reaction to Jared’s cheating on Suzanne. She was probably cheated on by some boyfriend and still can’t forgive him.

Then I remember the one detail that reminds me of Amanda. Caroline is from Maryland.

She wasn’t happy to find out Tim and Kimmy had let that detail about her past become public knowledge. I wonder why.

I also can’t figure out why there’s no hint of her being from there in any of the searches I’ve done. She must be going by a different name than she had in Maryland.

But why?

I think it’s time I find out.

The moment I step outside, the heat hits me like a brick wall. It’s got to be ninety-five degrees out today. Talk about the dog days of summer. I saw someone online claim it would hit the century mark today and dismissed them as ridiculous. As I wipe the beads of sweat already forming along my hairline, I might have to admit that may have been a hasty judgment.

Not a single noise comes from any of the yards. No children in front of Kimmy and Tim’s house running around like banshees. No lawn mower churning up the grass at Marilyn and Harold’s. In fact, as I walk past their house, I see no one out and Harold’s truck still in the driveway. Too hot to fish, I guess.

More like too hot to sit out in a boat with the sun blazing down on him and drink all day.

In fact, the only sound I hear other than that of cars a few blocks over where it’s always busier is the hum of air conditioners. All the houses in this neighborhood are new, so they all have central air and heat, but if I listen very carefully, the quiet purr of the machines pumping cold air into them is clear as a bell, the only sound not swallowed up by the stifling heat and humidity.

By the time I reach Caroline’s green house, sweat drips down the sides of my face and onto my neck. This weather is going to kill someone. If the air wasn’t so thick or if there was a breeze, it wouldn’t be so bad. Even a tiny gust of air from time to time would help.

But that isn’t to be found on this sunny August day. The sky is a pristine blue without a cloud to mar the beautiful color. There will be no relieving breeze today.

Perhaps Caroline’s house will offer some much-needed cool air. I stop at the bottom of her steps and look around, not really for any particular reason but knowing there are always eyes watching in this neighborhood. I see no one, but then again, do they ever see me watching them?

I’m sure Kimmy and Marilyn will be gossiping about my coming to visit Caroline seconds from now. One or both of them saw me walk here, so it’s only a matter of time. They’ll probably be burning up their phones chatting about it. A single man visiting a single woman in a neighborhood such as this is bound to get tongues wagging.

If they had any idea of the real reason for my visit, they wouldn’t be wasting their time whispering about whether I like her or she likes me. If they knew the truth about my interest in her, they’d hide her away and never let me get close to her again.

Each step up to her porch is an effort, like each of my legs has a twenty-pound weight strapped to it and lifting my foot takes all the energy I have. I should have waited until the sun went down to come see her. At least then I wouldn’t look like a drowned rat when she opens the door.

My heart begins to beat wildly as I make my way across her farmhouse style porch. You’d swear I’m a man suffering from infatuation or puppy love. I take a breath of thick air into my lungs to calm myself down. I’m merely here to have a conversation with a neighbor. Nothing more.

At least that’s what I want her to think.

A quick rap of my knuckles on her front door and then I wait for her to answer. Unlike me yesterday, she won’t ignore me standing here. Friendly people always answer the door when someone comes calling.

It’s what gets many of them killed.

I hear her footsteps as she walks toward the door, and I smile when she looks out at me through the tiny square window I know forces her to stand on her tiptoes to see out. I want her to think this is a nice, friendly visit. That way she’ll reveal more.

As she opens the door, I feel a gust of cool air hit my wrists and legs through the screen door separating me from her. She smiles when we’re face to face, but I sense she’s unsure why I’m standing here right now.

“Hey, Adam…” she says before her voice trails off to silence.

“Hi, Caroline. I wanted to come down to apologize for not being able to answer the door yesterday. You see, I was doing laundry which was long overdue, and I wasn’t dressed to see anyone. If I’m being honest, I wasn’t wearing a stitch of clothing, so you can understand why I couldn’t do the polite thing and answer when you knocked.”

Every word of that is a lie, but I see it has the desired effect on her as she blushes at my mention of being naked when she came by yesterday. If she didn’t get so lost in all those words, she might realize I don’t look anything like the type of man who would hang around his house in his birthday suit. Who does that anyway? This isn’t some kind of hippie commune or nudist colony, for Christ’s sake.

Yet she believes my lie and nods, smiling through her embarrassment. “Oh, that’s okay. It wasn’t anything important. Kimmy had just mentioned that she saw Aaron walking around the neighborhood after the party, so I wanted to see if you had run into him at all.”

I can’t decide if she’s lying or telling the truth, but her concern for our grieving neighbor seems genuine, so I give a sympathetic nod at the mention of him and say, “Oh, yes. I thought I saw him when I was walking home that night, but we didn’t talk. He looked very sad. You have to feel for him losing everything like he has.”

With each word, I wonder why she hasn’t invited me inside to enjoy some cool air. It’s almost as if she’s forgotten her manners, which is very unlike everyone in this neighborhood.

Finally, she opens the screen door and walks out to join me, crushing my hopes for any relief from the heat. Looking fresh and relaxed, she motions toward the chairs on her porch and says, “Why don’t we sit down so we can talk?”

I force a smile through my disappointment and follow her to the two wicker chairs with forest green cushions to match the color of her house. As we sit down, I pay attention to her expression and see she’s already suffering from the stifling heat. I wait for her to suggest we go inside, but she simply crosses her legs and turns to look at me with a smile I know isn’t genuine.

Why isn’t she inviting me inside her home? What’s in there that she’s hiding?

Forced to stay out here and endure these temperatures, I wipe my brow and say, “Looks like it’s going to be another scorcher today. I’m wondering when this heat wave is going to break.”

“The longest heatwave in history for this area was in the nineties, I think. Harold mentioned it the other day. He said it lasted for seventeen days. Since we’re only on day three of ninety degree or better temperatures, let’s hope it doesn’t last for another two weeks.”

Two weeks in this heat? I might not leave my house the entire time if that’s the case.

I nod as she gives me her mini history lesson, dreading the idea that this year might break the record. “Seventeen days? I wonder how many people didn’t make it through that one. Every time there’s a heatwave, people drop like flies. It’s all over the news.”

As I speak, I see the horror fill Caroline’s eyes, so I quickly add, “It’s all very ghoulish the way they talk about it, if you ask me.”

“It is,” she says with utter disgust. “Why does the news have to talk about people dying all the time? You’d swear there’s nothing good to talk about at all.”

I shrug, even as I’m intrigued about how bothered she is about all the death on the news every night. “You know what they say. If it bleeds, it leads.”

“You sound like you approve of that. I’m guessing since you’re a man that you don’t have a problem with all the violence, death, and destruction in society today.”

The tone of indictment comes through loud and clear, and I know I have to pretend like all of that bothers me, so I touch her arm in sympathy and shake my head. “No, and I bet most men you’d find don’t like it either.” Hoping to lighten the mood, I jokingly add, “Well, maybe not Harold, but he’s a fish killer, so you know how they are.”

That does the trick, and for the first time since we sat down, Caroline chuckles. “You know, you’re sort of funny. I guess I was getting too serious there for a minute. Sorry about that. I get tilting at windmills, and the next thing I know I’m up on a soapbox.”

As she apologizes, I watch her carefully to see if she truly means it. I think she does. If I didn’t know better, I’d say she was interested in me.

Not that her wanting to get to know me better would be a bad thing. Absolutely not since I want the same thing from her. I just have no interest in anything romantic.

My desires turn another way.

“It’s okay. Just shows you have a passion for something. I’m afraid you might be trying to hold back the ocean with a broom, though, when it comes to violence in this country. I’m pretty sure it’s in our DNA.”

Her smile slowly disappears as I talk, probably because she knows I’m right. If she had any idea about the person she’s talking to, she’d understand just how true all I said is.

“Well, that doesn’t mean it has to stay that way. If a person can grow and change, then why can’t a country of people do the same?”

Caroline truly is an idealist. I always laugh at people like her who insist on believing there’s good in all people. They seem so deluded, like they haven’t watched enough of the ugliness of humanity to be convinced that human beings are by their nature violent creatures. To expect them to be anything else always seems foolish.

But as I listen to her and know what she’s thinking is pure naiveté, I can’t help but find her charming in a way I’ve never experienced before. She may be wrong in more ways than she can imagine, but I like how her hopefulness makes me feel.

“I guess it’s possible,” I say, not believing that but some small part of me wishes it could be. “Have you always been this positive about human nature?”

She smiles, and it lights up her entire face. “I think so. My parents were really positive people, so I guess I come by it naturally. Not everyone is base and animalistic.”

Since Caroline seems to be in the mood to talk about herself and I want to encourage that, I ask her another question. “What about your brothers and sisters? I’m having a hard time believing your entire family was full of positive people. Wasn’t there one grouch in the bunch?”

Her smile gets broader, but I swear I see sadness flash in her eyes for a brief moment before it disappears as she shakes her head. “Nope. All happy people. I only have one brother, but he’s like me. Always tilting at windmills thinking we can make the world a better place.”

So she has a brother, but I get the sense by the way she used the past tense when she referred to her parents that they’re dead. I file those details away in the back of my mind and lean back on the wicker chair as I look out onto the street.

“I think I may have moved into the most positive neighborhood in the world then. Kimmy’s definitely someone who looks at the world with a sunny disposition, and Marilyn is just like her too. I don’t know about their husbands, but I wouldn’t say either man is entirely negative. Then again, I don’t know what we’d call Jared and Suzanne after the other night.”

Caroline nods slowly as a look of sadness comes over her. “I guess we’d call them divorced. She’s going to take him to the cleaners.”

I can’t help but find it interesting how differently she’s looking at the unhappy couple’s situation today compared to how she talked about it the night of the party. Then, she was all in favor of Suzanne gutting her cheating husband and laying him out in the middle of the street for all to see. Today, though, I get the feeling she’s not as militant in her support of Suzanne.

“He has it coming, don’t you think?”

Nodding, she draws her eyebrows in. “Yeah, he does. I don’t know what he was thinking bringing that woman to the party. Suzanne lives here. Did he actually think none of us were going to say something to her? I may not know her well, but Kimmy and Marilyn do, and they would tell her. He’s just a fool. He deserves what he gets.”

“That’s doesn’t sound so positive anymore.”

Caroline rolls her eyes. “I believe people can be good and if they aren’t then they can change. Jared hasn’t shown anyone he’s interested in being good or changing to save his marriage.”

So much for tilting at windmills.

She leans over toward me and whispers, “He left last night with two suitcases, so I think it’s over.”

As interesting as gossiping about my cheating neighbor is, I want to get Caroline to tell me more about herself, so I remain silent for a few moments as the two of us stare out at the road. The heat of the day comes off the asphalt in waves, making me feel even hotter than before. I wish she’d offer me a drink or invite me inside where it’s cool.

“Was it as hot as this where you used to live?” I ask awkwardly, instantly wishing I had thought of something smoother.

“Yes. I know everyone already knows I’m from Maryland, so yes, it got this hot. I want to say it wasn’t this humid, though. Something about this area seems to trap all the humidity here.”

Great. Now we’ve moved on from gossiping about unhappy marriages to the weather. At this rate, I’ll never learn anything about her.

Maybe if I give her a little taste of my past she’ll open up more. We do share Maryland in common, so why not mention that?

“You know, I haven’t told anyone else around here this, but I lived in Maryland too. I grew up there.”

That makes her eyes grow wide. “Really? Where?”

For someone who shares so little of herself, she’s quite eager and willing to ask others to share about themselves. Okay, I’ll play along. There’s no reason to lie about what town I lived in. Even though she’s from the same state, I doubt she’ll even recognize my hometown’s name.

“Danton. It’s a little town I bet you’ve never heard of, but it was a nice place to grow up.”

Narrowing her eyes, she appears to think about what I’ve said and mumbles, “Danton. Danton. Why does that name sound so familiar?”

I can’t imagine anyone other than the people who live in Danton would say it sounds familiar, so I chuckle and shake my head. “I don’t think it is. You’re probably confusing it with somewhere more popular or bigger. Trust me. No one knows about my small town.”

But that doesn’t make her stop repeating the name. “Danton. Danton. I know I’ve heard that somewhere. I’m not remembering it right now, but I know I’ve heard something about that place. It’s going to drive me crazy if I can’t think of it. Do any famous people come from there?”

I throw my head back and laugh at the ridiculous thought of that happening. “No, trust me on that. Nobody famous has ever even heard of Danton, much less lived there.”

“Hmmm…what about news? Any reason that town would have appeared in the news in Frederick?”

I shake my head as I file away that little detail. Caroline Townsend is from Frederick. That’s interesting. I don’t know if she meant to let that little fact out, but I’m sure I’ll be able to use that in my search when I return to my air-conditioned house.

“Highly doubtful. I don’t think we even had a full police force. I remember seeing maybe two officers during my entire childhood. The worst crimes that ever happened in Danton involved some guy lighting his garbage on fire every fall because he wanted to have a bonfire.”

That’s actually true, even though Mr. Merrick’s need to set fire to his trash every autumn wasn’t the worst thing that ever happened in Danton. Amanda Michaels’ murder was.

Like all tragedies, though, it was all over the news for a short while and then disappeared from existence, replaced by something else deemed more interesting. If it bleeds, it leads. Not being able to find the killer of a teenage girl isn’t newsworthy.

Caroline abruptly stands up and looks at me oddly. “I’m going to keep thinking about this because I know I remember hearing about that town of yours. Right now, though, I need to get back inside since I have things I need to do. Have a great day, Adam. Be sure to stay cool.”

And with that, she walks away, slamming her front door behind her and leaving me sitting in that uncomfortable wicker chair unsure what just happened.