She meant that my father insisted they go to prison together. It’d been presumed that Pamela hadn’t acted alone. She was a woman—of course she’d had a man guiding her, if not outright forcing her to commit these atrocities. To avoid sharing her fate, my father would have needed to turn on her. Prove that she’d acted alone. If he’d done that, she wouldn’t have had any chance of freedom.
If it were Gabriel and I, and I’d committed the crime, he might make the same choice…and I wouldn’t let him. I’d confess. Pamela hadn’t done that, and so I hold her responsible. My father doesn’t see it that way. She executed six murderers to cure me. He’d executed one to contact the Cwˆn Annwn in hopes of winning that cure. To him, their crimes are equal. I agree. They are equally forgivable. But the arrest had been for her crimes, not his, and so she should have spared him the punishment, taken her chances with the court and left me my father.
She leaned across the table. “I would not hurt him. I want him free. You know that, Eden. I told you that I would do whatever it took to get him free for you, and you decided against that route. You trusted Gabriel. Gabriel won your father’s release, and so anything I had against your lover is gone. He got your father out for you. I would do nothing to change that. I wouldn’t hurt either of you that way.”
She was right. She had offered to confess if it would get Todd out. That didn’t mean, though, that there wasn’t some deeper machination at work here, some angle she was playing.
“You say it’s fae,” I said.
She straightened, relaxing. “Yes. That’s the obvious answer.”
“So who?”
“How would I—?”
“That night, there were three parties present. Only three. Todd. The Hunt. And one onlooker, unseen by either of them. One who, as you know, I saw. One who has confessed she was there.”
She went still. “Yes, but—”
“You followed my father. He’d been distracted, and when he said he had to work late, you feared he was having an affair. You followed him. You saw how he…handled the situation, and you overheard his conversation with Ioan. You knew about the deal, and when he didn’t follow up on it, you did. You pretended he’d asked you to deal with Ioan for safety—to put more distance between himself and the crimes. Ioan thought he was communicating with Todd through you.”
“Yes. To all of that.”
“Which means you are the only other person who knew about it. Knew how Todd handled it. Knew how Ioan handled it. Where he handled it.”
“Where—?” Her gaze cut to the guard, who was busy checking her phone, paying no apparent attention to us. Pamela said, with care, “If you mean that I knew where to find that which was hidden, I did not. As soon as Todd spoke to Ioan, I left. Quickly. I needed to pick you up at my mother’s and get home before your father did. I couldn’t let him know I’d been gone. So the moment I heard what I needed to, I left.”
I shook my head. “You didn’t need to rush. Todd had to…clean up. It would take time.”
“Which I did not realize.”
I remembered Todd’s enraged attack. “How couldn’t you? If you saw what happened—”
“I didn’t see it. I was coming through the forest when I heard them talking. I stopped to listen. It was over before I got close enough to see anything, and I didn’t want to. I didn’t need to. I hid in the forest while I tried to figure out what to do. That’s when the Hunt came. As soon as I heard Ioan’s offer, I left. Check the timing with your father and with Ioan. It didn’t take Todd long to return home. When he did, you were sound asleep, and I had food ready for him. A hot snack and a cold beer. Unless I can be in two places at once, Eden, I didn’t see where anything was hidden. I presume Ioan took his time with that. By the time they were doing it, Todd was probably already home. Check with them.”
“You didn’t hang back, Mom. Todd heard you. Right there.”
“He never said—”
“He thought he heard something in the bushes. He dismissed it. When I was there, in his memory, I heard two rustles close by.”
“I never got within twenty feet of them, Eden. I could see flashlights through the trees. Flashlight beams and shapes. That’s it.”
I patted my pockets and found a receipt crumpled in the bottom of one. I tore it up to draw a map on the tabletop, indicating the figures in question and pointing out the directions and the nearest roads.
“We came in here,” she said, pointing. “I was following far enough behind your father that he wouldn’t see me. He was on his bicycle. I was in the car with the lights off. It took me a while to catch up—I thought I’d lost him until I heard voices.”
In Todd’s memory, he’d heard the bushes crackle before Kirkman arrived. Yet it did make sense—Pamela couldn’t have followed that closely.
She pointed out the rough route she took, and where she’d hidden. It was on the opposite side of where I’d heard someone. Which meant that whoever was there? It wasn’t Pamela.
Seventeen
Olivia
Gabriel and I were in the forest, standing in the spot where the bodies had been found. The police had finished their work, the area empty but still marked with crime scene tape and easy to find. It was still possible they’d return, maybe even as we stood here. If so, we had a ready alibi—someone was framing Todd, and we’d told Detective Parsons we’d be investigating.
I’d come in hopes of getting a vision, maybe revisiting the one with Todd the night he killed Kirkman. So far, I hadn’t seen even a flicker.
“It doesn’t make logical sense for someone else to have been here,” I said as I paced. “Two people following Todd? No. We know Pamela was here. She’s lying to cover it up. Why don’t I just admit that?”
Gabriel said nothing. He stood there, suit jacket still buttoned, as if he were in a court of law instead of a muddy spring forest.
“I’m making excuses for her again, aren’t I?” I said.
“You’ve never done that, Olivia,” he said.
“Yes, I have. I excuse her behavior all the time. God, I can’t believe I even still have a relationship with her. After what she did to you? What she did to James?”
“You have a relationship with her because she is your mother. It is not a close relationship, but it is a necessary one. A useful one.”
“After everything’s she’s done—”
“For you.”
I growled and spun on him. “That doesn’t make it better.”
“No, it makes it worse for you. She allowed Tristan to kill James because she thought James was a threat to you. She set me up for his murder because she thought I was a threat to you. I hold her more responsible for his death. What she did to me was a chess move, and I won the match.”
“Sending you to prison is not a game, Gabriel.”
“It was to her. It was to me. I outwitted her. I proved I am not a threat. I am no longer in danger from her.” He stepped toward me. “It doesn’t seem as if she did this, Olivia. I know that’s not what you want to hear.”
“What? I’m the one accepting her excuses.”
“No, you’re the one trying to convince yourself they are excuses. It makes no sense for her to set Todd up. She’s done everything she can to win his freedom. It also makes no sense for her to follow Ioan to see where the body went, rather than hurry home before Todd realized she was gone. And it makes no sense to put Todd back in prison for another crime. While the law claims that would not affect her own appeal, it most certainly would. She isn’t guilty of this, as much as you might wish she was.”
I bristled. “I certainly do not wish—”
“You mentioned excuses. This is the one you do want. The excuse to cut off contact forever. If she did this, you could justify it.”
“I should already be able to justify it. After what she’s done, I don’t need a reason. I don’t do it because I lack the damned spine. You cut Seanna from your life. So why can’t I do the same with Pamela?”
His voice low
ered. “I did that for myself, Olivia. Not to hurt Seanna. Not even because she deserved it. In her current mental state, she might not deserve it, but I can’t be sure of that. Regardless of whether she has changed, my experiences of what she did—the reality of what she did—hasn’t, so I cannot, for my own sake, rebuild a relationship we never had in the first place. Our situation is different. Your mother, for all her faults, loves you. What she has done may have hurt you, but unlike Seanna, that was not her intention.”
I went still as my gut twisted. “God, that was…that was a shitty, shitty comparison to make. I’m so sorry.”
“You didn’t mean it that way, and I did not take it that way. I was simply pointing out—”
“—that I’m comparing the mother who spent twenty years in prison to help me with the one who walked away from you at fifteen, left you to fend for yourself with nothing. The mother who never gave you anything in the first place.”
“That wasn’t what I meant.”
“But it’s true, and you’re right. You’re also right that, on some level, I want an excuse. I already have excuses, if I choose to take them. I don’t need another. I just need to either accept that I want some form of relationship with Pamela…or decide that I don’t. Stop whining about it.”
“You don’t whine about it, Olivia. No more—I hope—than I did with Seanna. We are conflicted. I’m still not certain I made the right choice. I may change it someday. For now, it feels better than the alternative. For now, what you have with Pamela works. It’s a distant and difficult but ultimately useful relationship.”
“I know, I’m just…I wish I wouldn’t get stuck in these ruts, you know?”
He walked over and took my chin in his hand. Then he kissed me. It started slow but deepened as my anxiety fed into it. He only needed to sense that, and he responded in kind, his arms going around me, pulling me against him. I had his shirt off in record time—well, record time for non-damaging removal. My shirt didn’t fare quite so well, which suggested I wasn’t the only one stockpiling stress this week. When it tore, he mumbled an apology against my lips, but I silenced it and tore the shirt some more getting it off.
He didn’t even attempt the hooks on my bra, just shoved it up. My jeans required far too much work—they might have been a bit snug—so once he popped the button, I took it from there. As for his trousers, well, they didn’t need to be removed, did they? I got them far enough and nudged him toward the ground, but Gabriel isn’t going anywhere he doesn’t want to go, and apparently, that wasn’t what he had in mind. Instead, he backed into a tree and hoisted me up, and I got the kind of stress relief I’d needed way more than I realized.
Afterward, he held me there, still straddling him as he leaned back against the tree.
I kissed him. “Thank you.”
“Thank you. I believe I needed that as much as you did.”
I glanced at our position. “I should probably let you put me down, as much as I’m loath to suggest it.”
“I’m fine. I’ve been working out.”
I laughed and snuggled into him. He leaned back more, getting comfortable while still holding me up.
“Impressive, really,” I said.
“Thank you. I will admit that when we met, I wasn’t in optimal condition. As my schedule intensified, working out was the first thing to drop off my to-do list. Then, when I decided to woo you away from Ricky, I decided that getting in better shape was necessary if I hoped to compete in that arena. Which was, admittedly, pointless.”
“Yeah, I don’t exactly compare muscle tone when picking a lover, Gabriel.”
“I mean competing in the area of the physical against Ricky is rather like him competing in law against me. And yes, a few extra pounds weren’t going to be what kept you from seeing me in a more favorable light. It was simply easier to focus on that rather than do something extreme, like let you know I wanted to be with you.”
“Uh-huh…”
“However, once we did get together, I realized that was the point at which a certain degree of athleticism was required. Possibly also acrobatic training.”
I laughed and kissed him one more time before disengaging and sinking to the ground. “I’d love to say that’s not necessary, but I feel it wouldn’t be in my best interest. Though, if you do ever actually sign up for acrobatics, please tell me. That I’d have to see. And possibly videotape.”
He snorted as he pulled up his trousers. “I believe I’ll skip the formal training and stick to real-time practice.” He reached down for my ripped blouse. “I apologize for this and will replace it…with a shirt that has buttons big enough for my fingers to actually manipulate.”
“We’ll just start taking all my shirts to the tailor. Get the buttons replaced with snaps.”
“Don’t joke, or you’ll wake up to find all your blouses missing as I take you up on that very reasonable suggestion.”
We continued talking as we dressed. Then we headed out. There was nothing to find here, and neither of us commented on that—it’d spoil our good moods. We just started walking, hand in hand, chattering about nonsense and nothing. We’d gone at least a quarter mile before I slowed and looked around.
“Is this the right way?” I asked.
“No, I don’t believe it is,” Gabriel said, making no move to adjust his direction. “Are we in a hurry?”
“We are not, and this seems a perfectly fine direction to go.”
“Agreed.”
We continued on, talking in that giddy afterglow way, wandering aimlessly. When I tripped over a branch, Gabriel caught me and pulled me into his arms, and I took advantage of the opportunity for a kiss. Just a quick smack on the lips.
As I pulled back, he grabbed my breast, hard, and I jumped with a gasp because that was not like Gabriel. Rough, yes, when that was the direction we took, but not a hard—painfully hard—grab during a casual kiss.
Even as I pulled back, I knew what I’d see. Not Gabriel. And I was right. Shadows swallowed the forest, turning day to night, telling me I’d fallen into a vision.
A figure stood in front of me, at least six inches shorter than Gabriel and nearly that much narrower. He moved toward me, and I went to push him back, but my hands were tied behind me. My heart hammered, panic igniting. The figure moved closer, and my eyes adjusted enough to the darkness for me to see his face.
Gregory Kirkman.
“You like that?” he said, and he reached to grab my breast again. I stumbled backward and tripped as my legs tangled. I crashed to the ground, unable to block my fall with my hands bound. My shoulder hit a rock, and tears of pain sprang to my eyes. My face was already tight with dried tears, my throat hoarse from screaming for help that hadn’t come. I opened my mouth to scream again, but a gag stopped me.
As I twisted to get up, Kirkman fell on me.
“In a hurry to get to this part?” he said. “Guess you did like it.”
The panic exploded. Not just the victim’s panic but my own, as I realized what was about to happen. I’d had visions before. Horrible visions of death and loss that gave me nightmares for weeks. Yet I’d been spared this particular nightmare, and now, as Kirkman pinned me to the ground, I went wild with absolute fear. I fought with everything I had, but the girl whose body I inhabited was tiny, and her struggles weren’t enough to do more than make him laugh. He lowered his mouth to mine, and I screwed up my focus and tried to burst free from the vision.
Let me out. Please, please, let me out. I can handle anything but this. Please, please, please—
Kirkman’s body weight lifted from mine, and I thought my plea had been heard. Instead, he only rose to a crouch, hands still pinning me as he peered into the forest.
I twisted. Through the trees, I could make out a moving figure. Kirkman’s hand went to my mouth, as if the gag weren’t there. I started making noises through it, grunts and muffled cries, but they were too soft for the other person to hear.
His gaze on the figure, Kirkman slid down t
o my feet. He took rope from his jacket pocket and tied my ankles together. Then he rose and slipped off to the side, approaching the figure from another direction.
“Hey,” he called. “Looking for me?”
“Yeah,” a young male voice said. “You weren’t at the house, and I know you like coming out here.”
“I was just taking a walk. What’s up?”
“Uh, Mae’s midnight bash? I was picking you up at eleven, right?”
“Shit. Yes. I completely forgot. Better count me out. I worked on the house all day, and I won’t make it past midnight.”
“You sure?”
“Yeah, sorry. Come by tomorrow, and we’ll hang out.”
“Sure. I’ll give you a shout in the morning.”
As they talked, I struggled against my bonds. I grunted and screamed into the gag. I kicked and flailed my bound feet. Once, my legs struck a sapling hard enough to set it shaking, and I was sure whoever Kirkman was speaking to would notice. He didn’t. I tried again and set the whole tree quaking, but it gave only the faintest creak. I pushed harder. Leaves rustled as the sapling swayed. It sounded no different than the wind in the trees.
I tried getting to my feet. My shoes slid against the damp ground, unable to find purchase. I flipped over and pulled my legs up, inchworm style and began to rise like that—
“What the hell are you doing?” Kirkman said, sounding more amused than angry as his hand clasped my shirt. He hauled me upright and clamped his fingers over my gag. “Shhh. Shhh. Sorry for the interruption, but he’s leaving.”
Sure enough, footsteps receded down the path. When they were gone, Kirkman whispered in my ear. Whispered things that made me fight and scream against the gag. He stepped back. Smiled. Kicked my bound legs. I went down face-first. He straddled my back and put his hands around my neck.
As his fingers tightened, my head shot up, eyes bulging. I saw something in the forest. A flash of movement. Then a figure appeared, slinking through the trees, hunched over. He stopped, almost on eye level with me, less than twenty feet away.
I saw his face. And he saw me. He looked straight at me. I screamed against my gag, a gurgling scream as Kirkman choked me.
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