Jane met Duncan less than a month after she moved to Boyne City. She had locked herself out of her house and had had to ask a neighbour to call a locksmith. She was sitting on her front steps in the early twilight wearing her pajamas—she taught second grade and it was Pajama Day—when Duncan drove up in a rust-spotted white van.
“Whoa,” he said when he saw her. “Exactly how long have you been waiting?”
He was in his early forties, with slightly shaggy auburn hair and a full moustache. His eyes were brown with amber flecks, and his features were so symmetrical that his face looked as though it could have been cut from a piece of paper folded in half. He was of medium height, medium build, wearing nothing more distinctive than jeans and a denim shirt, yet he seemed to stand out vividly, like the subject of a photo with a blurred background. To Jane, he looked like the Brawny paper towel man, and no less handsome…
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