Finally, the two of them turn their attention to me.
My tears are flowing. My body vibrates like I’ve been electrified. Slowly, without intending it, I drop to my knees. I stare up at these two children who’ve inherited this mess. Who never asked for it.
“Please forgive me,” I say to them.
The two of them gaze back at me impassively. Joni has her arm around Michael’s waist. Now he puts his arm around her shoulder. Like this, they turn from me and start walking away. They move down the long driveway, disappearing into the darkness.
My chin drops to my chest. I kneel there and sob. It all just comes out of me. I have no bones. I have no breath. I am just this repentant soul on the ground.
After a moment, I feel a hand on my shoulder. I look up, sniffing back the tears and the snot.
Frank Mills looks down at me. “Hey,” he says. “You want me to go pick them up?”
I shake my head. “Let them go for now.”
“Okay.”
Frank checks Paul, who’s not moved from where Michael left him. I can see the rise and fall of Paul’s chest. I can hear the bubbly quality of his labored breathing. He’s alive, which is more than he deserves.
Frank kicks the hammer farther away. He stands, looking down at Paul a moment, then back at me.
He’s been staying with me for the past couple of days; I met the three of them in town and smuggled them to the lake house, being sure to keep out of sight in case Paul was monitoring my comings and goings.
It was Frank who convinced Joni and Michael to come back. Once I saw Paul in the woods near the house, I called Frank and we were able to put it together. Paul was obviously intending to see me. To talk to me. This man I’d married, who’d once had an affair and killed the husband his mistress wouldn’t leave. A marriage I’d tried to save by ruining the lives of at least two other people — Michael and his mother. Only to have Paul, fifteen years later, descend even deeper. Once he’d known he was capable of murder, all bets were off. There was no coming back, if there ever even was.
I stand up. I walk to where Paul lies.
“Be careful,” Frank says.
I stare down at my husband, his bloody face. There’s just enough light from the house to see him by. “Call 911, Frank.”
“Okay.” Frank takes out his phone. Even though the coverage is spotty here, 911 always works. I had ample opportunity to call and never did.
But now is the time. It’s finally over.
I hear Frank explain the situation to the emergency operator.
Paul reaches up for me. I decide to risk it and take a knee beside him. His gaze falls on the microphone still taped above my breast.
The recording will go a long way toward a conviction. Paul will spend the rest of his life in prison.
It should also help Laura Bishop to sue us.
Which is fine with me. I prefer to be left with nothing once it’s all over.
As Frank finishes up the conversation with the emergency operator, I look up the driveway. I can just see Joni and Michael rounding the bend out of sight. And for a moment, just a moment, a warm and brilliant light banishes all the darkness from my soul. As they walk away, the high summer grasses waving in the breeze beside them, cicadas buzzing in the humidity, I see two people who have made each other their highest loyalty. Leaving me and Paul, the messed-up older generation, behind.
And then they’re gone.
THE END
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
Remember that first summer after the pandemic hit? My wife and I needed to get away, and so we rented a tiny, cheap cabin in the middle of nowhere. There, with only a few donkeys to keep us company and a murky pond to escape the heat, we came up with the basic storyline for this book. So, first and foremost, I have to thank my spectacular wife.
After I wrote the thing, I needed some feedback, and that’s where a few brave men and women come into the picture. Veronika Jordan. David C. Taylor. Trena Stooksberry. These brilliant people read the story after I’d given it all I could and their feedback made it better. From more lifelike characters to revised endings; if there’s a part you like, credit surely goes to them.
Thank you to Joffe Books for taking it on; to Jasper for always keeping the door open and the light on. Thanks to the reader who gave it a first look and pushed it through the gate. Thanks to Emma Grundy Haigh for shepherding it through the entire process from there, for the excellent cover and blurb and all the fine-tuning, for her enthusiasm. For loving this story and truly caring about it — I couldn’t ask for more. And thank you to Jodi Compton, who’s been my editor for several books now. Also a writer, Jodi knows how to use a soft touch while making all the right points. She’s like a ninja, really, or a Jedi, deftly getting the job done while you’re oblivious to her magic.
Finally, thank you, reader, for taking a chance on this book. There’s a lot out there, and your choice to read this one means the world to me. Really; it’s everything.
ALSO BY T.J. BREARTON
THE NORTH COUNTRY SERIES
Book 1: DARK WEB
Book 2: DARK KILLS
Book 3: GONE
THE TITAN SERIES
Book 1: HABIT
Book 2: SURVIVORS
Book 3: DAYBREAK
Book 4: BLACK SOUL
SPECIAL AGENT TOM LANGE
Book 1: DEAD GONE
Book 2: TRUTH OR DEAD
Book 3: DEAD OR ALIVE
STANDALONE NOVELS
HER PERFECT SECRET
HIGH WATER
THE HUSBANDS
WHEN HE VANISHED
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