Agnes wasn’t the only one who needed fresh air. Their lovely new neighbors had opened a dozen cans of worms. But he faulted Agnes and Dayna the most. Had they never taken Karen over to the Landau home, he wouldn’t have to do something desperate to make sure his can stayed closed. It was bad enough those letters surfaced; he didn’t need anything else to suddenly pop up. In his defense, he was a kid. But he knew what he felt, and he thought it was love. But now, he wasn’t sure. He questioned his judgment, just as he did when he broke it off. He thought he’d taken care of it, buried the problem; apparently not deep enough.
Larry looked over at Agnes’ empty space in the garage and wondered where she’d gone. He had his suspicions, but he didn’t think she’d be that stupid. It didn’t matter. He pushed the garage door opener and waited for the door to roll up. He threw the gear in reverse and backed the car out. He didn’t have a plan, but he had to do something.