All Good People Here

“Margot began to envision a faceless man standing between the two houses, playing eeny, meeny, miny, moe with her friend’s bedroom window and her own. At night she’d lay in bed, squeezing her fists so tight her fingernails drew blood.”

Margot recalls learning about the circumstances of January’s death and how this affected her as a child. Believing that a mysterious stranger murdered her friend, Margot imagines the murderer deciding between her room and January’s, with Margot narrowly escaping January’s fate. Margot is not only wracked with guilt over this throughout her life, but this quote also introduces a coping mechanism that follows Margot into adulthood: squeezing her palms so tightly that she draws blood. Whenever Margot does this, it is an echo of how that initial fear in the aftermath of January’s death continues to affect her.

“This town crucified the Jacobs family all those years ago and they may not exactly like the way that looks now. So people will talk, sure, but you won’t be able to believe a word they say.”

Uncle Luke warns Margot to be wary of what the townspeople of Wakarusa might tell her as she begins her research into Natalie Clark and January Jacobs’s cases. Luke candidly expresses the belief that The Veneer of Civility will win out over any chance of finding the truth, as the townspeople do not want to look bad for their behavior years ago. He suggests that the townspeople, who have always believed in Krissy’s guilt, will change their stories now that another young girl has been kidnapped and Krissy is no longer alive to blame.

“This town puts a label on us the day we’re born.”

In a flashback to Krissy’s young adulthood, she recalls her friend Dave (Luke Davies) explaining to Billy the problems of Wakarusa. Dave argues that the town is limiting, and that its residents have a narrow understanding of the complexity of human beings. He claims that the town decides the fates of its residents based on misshapen stories and gossip. It will become more apparent as the narrative progresses how true this is, as the town all but convicts Krissy Jacobs of January’s murder even without the evidence to support such a claim.

“Krissy couldn’t have known then everything that kiss would lead to. If she had, she never would have done it. If she had, she would have run fast in the opposite direction.”

Before becoming pregnant and agreeing to marry Billy, a man she hardly knew let alone loved, Krissy imagined a life for herself in New York City. She thinks back to the night she first kissed Billy and imagines how different her life could have been if she had not made that one decision. Krissy’s regret speaks to the all too human propensity to pinpoint the one defining moment that changed the trajectory of one’s life.

“I think you’re blinded by your relationship to the January Jacobs case. Not every little girl in the Midwest to go missing was taken by the person who killed her.”

Margot’s editor tries to steer Margot away from drawing comparisons between Natalie Clark’s disappearance and January Jacobs’s death. This quote is a moment of dramatic irony, because while factually true—not all missing persons cases, even ones in the same geographical location, are related—Margot’s hunch that Natalie Clark and January Jacobs’s cases are related is true. While Margot does not yet know the truth of what happened to January (that Billy killed her, not Wallace), her instinct to follow this lead does result in the arrest of Wallace, who murdered Natalie Clark, had a connection to January, and harmed numerous other young girls.

“When she was found in that ditch [...] a little bit of all of us died with her.”

Linda articulates the effect that January’s death had on the community. She explains that January was the town darling: They hung their hopes on January, hoping for her success as a dancer and treating her as a symbol of the perfection “churchgoing, law-abiding” Wakarusa supposedly represents (1). By putting this six-year-old girl on a high pedestal, the town could feel a sense of ownership over her, and when she died, they needed someone to blame and punish. Instead of banding together to support January’s grieving family, the people of Wakarusa cast unfair blame on Krissy as retribution for the town’s collective loss.

“Linda’s eyes grew glassy. Too-early deaths did that to people. They didn’t just rob children of their lives; they robbed them of their futures. Alive, they could grow up to become famous dancers or hard-hitting reporters. Dead, they turned into nothing but lost potential.”

Margot reflects on the effect that January’s death has had on the Wakarusa community. She acknowledges that when young people die, their potential dies with them. This is even more tragic in January’s case, as the town has hinged its own identity and prosperity on the future success of this young girl. When January dies, so does the hope and potential of the town itself.

“She knew the ring was a tether, forever binding her to this man she was just now realizing she hardly knew. But it was also a ticket to so much more. [...] It would mean, for the first time in her life, she might finally be able to exhale.”

When Billy proposes marriage to Krissy, she understands the weight of her decision. She describes the ring in two ways: as a tether—tying her down to Wakarusa forever—and as a ticket to a life that she previously could not have imagined for herself. Having grown up impoverished, Krissy has had to fight relentlessly for everything she has. By accepting Billy’s proposal, even though she does not know or love him, she understands that she is making a calculated decision to change her life for the better: assuming the same financial privilege that Billy enjoys and finally escaping the weight of poverty.

“It wasn’t that she didn’t believe women were capable of depravity, but saying Krissy was guilty because she was different? Margot thought of Wakarusa’s original name—Salem, and all those women burning.”

Margot questions the way the townspeople of Wakarusa seem intent on condemning Krissy for January’s murder simply because she was “different” from everyone else in town. She remembers Wakarusa’s original name, Salem, and its obvious allusions to Salem, Massachusetts, and the Salem Witch Trials. Margot cannot help but draw a comparison between these events, and feels that like the innocent women of Salem, Krissy may have been the victim of a biased witch hunt.

“In the two and a half decades since, Margot had lived so much life; [...] Had she been afforded that life because some man had picked January’s window instead of hers? Did she have all those years because January had not? The gratitude she felt that the thought made her burn with shame.”

This quote illustrates Margot’s guilt over her belief that she had been spared while a stranger murdered January. Margot’s interest in solving January’s murder has as much to do with her desire to bring forth justice as it does with her need to clear her conscience. Because she believes that January died so that she could live, Margot feels she owes it to January to solve the case. Though her survivor’s guilt is misplaced, January’s case gives Margot a sense of direction.

“If the town hadn’t already known of the spray-painted messages, they would soon—and that handful of words would set her and her family apart for the rest of their lives.”

Krissy reacts to a group of mothers seeing the messages written on the Jacobses’ kitchen walls when they come to visit. Krissy knows that the women seeing the messages seals her family’s fate in terms of the town believing them to be guilty. Krissy’s intuition here is correct, as people in town shun her family (and her specifically) for the rest of her life due to their belief that the Jacobses were somehow responsible for January’s murder.

“They’d either dressed their daughter up as a human lure or they didn’t believe it was a stranger who’d killed her, which would direct the attention of Sandy—and the rest of the country—onto them.”

Much is made of January’s suggestive dance outfits. After the Jacobses’ appearance on Headline with Sandy Watters, the Jacobs family is judged and found guilty in the court of public opinion regardless of the truth. This speaks to the frenzy that occurs in the media after a high-profile crime: To condemn a guilty party, the media casts aspersions onto the family. The public judges mothers especially harshly, looking for any reason to find their parenting lacking or dangerous; this motif of the mistrust of mothers occurs throughout the novel. This quote illustrates the fact that the public was going to blame the Jacobs family either way: they either dressed their daughter up in suggestive outfits, causing her death, or they themselves were responsible for her murder.

“This was about understanding what had happened to her friend that night across the street from her bedroom window. This was about unraveling the thread that connected January to Natalie Clark. This was about making sure no more little girls got taken, then showed up a day later, their bodies cold with death.”

Margot articulates her purpose for pursuing her case on her own, without reporter’s credentials. In a town that seems to ignore, obfuscate, or create its own truth, Margot is enthusiastic about uncovering the real facts of what happened to January and how it is or is not related to Natalia’s disappearance. Uninterested in a buzzworthy narrative, Margot seeks the truth, and with noble cause: to prevent what happened to January and Natalie from happening to any other young girls.

“The media made us all look insane, but we were just a family. We might not have been happy, but we were normal.”

Jace speaks to Margot about the aftermath of January’s death and its effect on his life. In accordance with the theme of The Secrets of Small Towns, Jace explains that he learned later in life that his mother staged January’s crime scene in order to protect him, as Krissy believed Jace killed January. Regardless of the truth of their involvement in January’s death, the media—and the public—found them guilty based on demeanor alone. This quote articulates the outsized role the media played in spinning the narrative about his family after January’s death: how the media got to decide the Truth (that Jace was guilty), and how this altered the course of his family.

“Throughout all those years, I never stopped loving you. So please don’t say I didn’t when my life is a testament to the love I have for you. I’ve made many mistakes, and for those I’m sorry, but not loving you was never one of them.”

Krissy writes to Jace, defending her actions over the past decade. Still thinking that Jace murdered January, Krissy reminds Jace of the lengths she went to protect him from the scrutiny of their neighbors and the national media. Krissy’s love for Jace is evident here, and in her efforts to cover for him in the aftermath of January’s death, but there is also tragedy, as Krissy could not bring herself to parent Jace and nurture a relationship with him. Krissy soon learns that she lost both of her children the night January died, and with Jace, she was solely responsible.

“The mere possibility that Jace hadn’t killed January felt like someone had upended her life, flooding her with both relief and shame. On the one hand, it would mean her son wasn’t a monster; on the other, it would mean she’d alienated him for no reason at all.”

After reading Jace’s letter, in which he states that he did not kill January, Krissy realizes the depth of her mistakes. While she never stopped loving and protecting Jace, even when she thought he murdered January, Krissy also withheld herself from him, creating an unnavigable rift between them. This throws Krissy’s entire life into question and causes her to wonder how she can move forward in life knowing that she has made such an enormous and harmful error.

“[After] everything she’d learned about him in the past twenty-four hours, she realized that she didn’t really know him at all. He’d kept his secrets from her for over two decades. She had no idea how far he’d go now in order to protect them.”

Margot fears for her life as Luke, not recognizing her, holds up a shotgun to her face when she knocks on the door. In this moment, full of doubt about Luke’s character and wondering whether he could have murdered January, Margot fears that Luke is just like everyone else in Wakarusa: willing to go to great lengths to protect his secrets. This fear shakes the foundations of everything Margot thought she knew about her uncle—her father figure—and sows as much anxiety in her mind as the gun pointing at her face does.

“If it turned out Margot was wrong and Luke was a killer after all, she would hate him. [...] And still, he’d be her uncle. Underneath all that anger and hate, she knew she could never quite stop loving him.”

Margot struggles as she thinks about what she will have to do if she finds out Luke is guilty of murder. This is a parallel to Krissy’s dilemma when she mistakenly thinks Jace killed January. Krissy wrecks her relationship with her son because of what she thinks he did, but she cannot bring herself to stop loving him or protecting him. Margot feels similarly about Luke, knowing that she will be unable to continue a relationship with him if she finds out he is a murderer, but also knowing that she will continue to love him despite the wrong he has done.

“He was keeping Krissy’s secret too, not to avoid gossip, not to prevent Billy from getting hurt, but to protect his wife and niece: Rebecca, who’d tried for years to get pregnant; Margot, who was young and already felt unloved by her own parents.”

After finding January’s dance programs hidden in Luke’s office, Margot fears the worst: that Luke could have killed January. The truth absolves her uncle of any wrongdoing and helps Margot understand his depth of character. Because of Margot’s difficult upbringing and Rebecca’s infertility, Luke hides the fact that he fathered the Jacobs twins to protect the women in his life he loves most. While most people in the novel hide their secrets for fear of scrutiny, Luke’s intentions are noble, setting him apart from others in town and solidifying him, in Margot’s mind, as an upstanding person.

“It wasn’t fair, to have a girl’s life reduced to the contents of this little box, this random assortment of things.”

Margot and Jodie discover Wallace’s collection of stolen items from young girls, some of whom he kidnapped and murdered. While Margot recognizes the importance of this evidence, she points out an important fact: These girls were human beings, tragically reduced to the meager contents of these sad boxes. It is an important reminder that evidence, while crucial to bringing about justice for families, is not the same thing as restoring a murder victim to their family.

“After all these years of wondering, of obsessing, of searching the face of every man she passed, finally she’d found the one she’d been looking for. And finally, she had the evidence to prove what he’d done.”

Margot finds January’s box at the bottom of Wallace’s macabre collection, indicating that she was a target of his. While Margot does not yet know the complete story of what happened to January, and the Wallace revelation does nothing to bring her back, Margot feels nonetheless vindicated. Her discovery will stop Wallace from continuing to commit crimes against young girls, which eases some of Margot’s long-lasting guilt over January’s death.

“The sight of him made her stop short, her throat unexpectedly tightening. After days of feeling estranged from him, Margot finally had her uncle back. And although he’d told lies and kept secrets like everyone else in this town, she now understood why he had. He may not have been perfect, but he was good.”

Margot restores her faith in her uncle after a winding journey of wondering whether Luke may be keeping dark secrets like everyone else in Wakarusa. Margot’s discovery of Wallace’s crimes frees her of any lingering doubt about Luke and confirms what she already knew in her heart: that Luke is a good person. His secrets caused her pain as she unraveled them, but now she understands he kept them to protect her, rather than for nefarious and self-serving purposes.

“To so many, those girls were nameless and faceless, numbers on a sad and growing list. There was nothing she wouldn’t do, Margot thought, [...] to keep him from turning her into one—just another forgotten girl added to another list.”

These are the final lines of Margot’s final perspective chapter, which leaves the reader on a cliffhanger as Billy drags her toward the same basement where January died. She thinks about all the girls discarded in similar fashions, victims of Wallace and innumerable others, and how she will do everything within her power to avoid becoming another statistic. This quote relates to the author’s own interest in true crime advocacy: Flowers is the founder of Season of Justice, a nonprofit that seeks to end this list of “nameless, faceless” girls by raising money to test cold case DNA files. Like her author, Margot harbors a similar passion for seeking justice for missing and murdered young women, and she will use it to try and escape this harrowing situation.