The next morning at work, something Brian hadn't expected happened—they appointed Brian in place of the foreman who'd resigned. His résumé being packed with journeyman work had paid off. The other workers were jealous, but there wasn't anything they could do. Brian was their boss now. They had to do what he said. Brian's mind, though, was still back at the house, but he felt relieved on the other hand. The ice he'd put on the body would keep the smell down; he'd locked the door, so Vivian wouldn't be able to go in. Not that she had any reason to go in there anyway, but taking precautions mattered.
Sitting in his shack, Brian laid out the day's plan for the crew, helped them a bit, then holed up in his shack for a while. He lit a cigarette, resting his left elbow on the desk, his left hand on his cheek, scrolling Instagram on his phone with his right hand. The Dexter edits that popped up here and there bothered him a lot—he'd watched the show months back, and doing even a small part of what that guy did was driving him crazy. But then a video popped up that wiped his thoughts clean. In the video, Julia posted from somewhere by the beach; she put music over it, filmed herself first and smiled at the camera, then filmed the sea. As she turned the camera to the sea, a blonde stepped into the frame, waved at the camera, and said, "HII! Cassady's sisters at Bodrum/Turkey." "Cassady's sisters, huh?" Brian said. He realized the blonde was the girl Julia had mentioned before—her fraternal twin. The girl looked nothing like Julia. Not just one blonde and the other brunette—their faces didn't look alike at all. The blonde had a small nose, full lips, blue eyes. Their heights didn't look the same either. Brian shut his phone right away, took one last drag from his cigarette, and stubbed it out. He started thinking—he was gonna do something with Julia; he'd already decided back when he'd been at Vivian's place. But how could he approach her? How do you win back someone who's you already rejected? He started stalking her account. He looked at every photo, every detail so carefully, trying to learn something. Then he noticed a photo. It was a barbecue picture shared in the backyard of a single-family house. In the photo, an old man was flipping meat with tongs, a blonde woman in her forties stood with a plate waiting for the old man, a man in his forties sat in a camp chair smiling at the camera with a beer bottle in his hand, and in front of them two girls, about fifteen or sixteen, sat posing for the camera. "Jackpot," Brian said to himself. The location of the house was visible on the Instagram post, and the photo had been posted eight years ago. A ton of comments had come in under it from various Instagram accounts.
Brian left work at five in the evening. He started driving toward the location. He'd called Vivian and told her he'd be a little late. So even an hour was precious to him. When he got near the house, he didn't get out; he just watched from the car. On purpose, he parked two or three houses down; since Julia knew his car, he didn't wanna look like some creep. But he had to be sure. Did Julia and her family still live here or had they moved somewhere else? Without getting out of the car, he waited fifteen, twenty minutes. Then he was gonna get out—but he changed his mind. He didn't have a hat to hide his face even a little. Not worth the risk. So he gave up on getting out. He waited in the car a little longer, meanwhile looking closely at the photo again and again, trying to confirm the people in it. The middle-aged woman and man—probably Julia's parents. The two girls in front—Julia and Maria in their teen years. The old man working the grill was probably their grandpa, Brian thought. It wasn't that important anyway, but as he kept looking, maybe he'd catch a new detail. "Screw it," he thought, and started the car. He was just about to go when the front door opened. Brian snapped the gear from D back up to P. He pulled the handbrake back and stared carefully at the door. The door had opened and only a leg stepped out. Whoever it was was probably kneeling on the threshold tying their shoes. Brian stared carefully. He studied the shoes. "Damn, are those the shoes Julia wore the other day?" he wondered. But he didn't have to wonder long—the person tying their shoes stepped out of the house.
The person who came out was probably Maria. As soon as she stepped out, she turned to her right and had her back to Brian's car, which was parked on the left. From the blonde hair and the younger look, "This must be Maria," Brian thought. He waited a bit; Maria kept walking. Brian started the car and began to drive. He was gonna pass right in front of Maria and confirm her face, and he'd be sure it was Julia's house. Right as he was passing in front, the door opened again and Julia came out. Brian, who was rolling by slow, sped up the second he saw Julia and tried to get away. "Shit, did she see me? Fuck, fuck, fuck!" he thought, and got out of there.