The Things We Keep

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The Things We Keep Page 14

by Nikki Kincaid


  The tension of Chris’s face relaxed a fraction of an inch as my words sank in.

  I took his hand and squeezed it. “Let’s stop it, okay? Let’s just stop.”

  Chapter 34

  As summer’s humidity began to fade into the crispness of fall, I clipped Remy onto her leash with my newly freed right hand. My hand had healed quickly, though it still ached with movement. Walking around the block, I admired the still-green grass of the well-tended lawns of the neighborhood and relished the cool evening air. In Reno, fall never seemed to come around. One day it was summer, the next winter. I hadn’t realized how much I’d missed the subtle transition, the smell of dying leaves, the soft tones of retreating sunlight.

  Chris was coming over that night for dinner. We’d been trying to meet up a couple times a week, telling each other it was to support our ongoing decision to move past all this, but in reality, it was starting to take on a different feel. We were sitting closer and closer to each other on the couch, and though Chris was still married—and still talking about getting his wife and kids back—he also talked about starting over, suing for partial custody, but staying in Beacon Falls.

  He’d been offered a job as a school resource officer in the neighboring town and he accepted, grateful to be working again. The citizens of Beacon Falls, while aware of Chris’s compliance in what had happened, had mostly forgiven him, especially as more and more of Mitch’s crimes came to light.

  It turned out that after Mitch had sent young Ayla into Liz's lair in search of evidence he could use to shut her down, Liz called him. She told Mitch that she'd found the recording device on the young girl, and that if he didn’t admit his collusion with the Mexicans, Liz was going to kill her. Mitch did nothing. He let Ayla die and then bungled the investigation while vowing to prosecute whoever had done it.

  For myself, I let my lease on my apartment in Reno end. I’d pleaded with my friends to pack up my apartment and place everything in storage, assuring them I’d return in summer. But in truth, I wasn't sure I wanted to return. Mom wasn't there, maybe had never been there. I might never stop looking for her, but at least if I stayed in Beacon Falls, she’d finally know where to find me.

  With dad’s insurance money and the proceeds from the sale of his house, I bought some furniture and an air conditioner for mom’s house, though I hardly needed it now that the weather was cooling off.

  “This isn’t such a bad place,” I said, looking around. Remy cocked her ears backwards but didn’t stop tugging on the leash. “I guess I can stay.”

  * * *

  The End

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  About the Author

  Nikki grew up with a love of all things crime, noir, and the darker side of life. She lives an ordinary, crime-free life in Montana.

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