“Was anyone else at the house?”
“I didn’t see anyone. It was disgusting inside. I kept on thinking that it was going to get better, that he had some nice surprise planned for me. Instead he took me downstairs to the basement. He went around turning on lights and I just followed him, not knowing what to do. I was more scared of the house than I was of him. He had me sit on a mattress that was laid out on the floor and told me to get undressed. He was so casual about it. I felt so childish when I admitted I was scared.”
“What did he do?”
“He did the same thing he always did when I was upset, he talked to me. He sat down next to me on that mattress and looked me right in the eye. He told me how much he loved me but that people wouldn’t understand so we needed to keep it secret for the time being. He reminded me of how many times he’d been there for me in the past and that I could always trust him.”
“I take it you believed him.”
“Every single word. Even now I still believe him when he says he loves me. In the last four years I haven’t learned a damn thing.” Grace looks around the diner. There’s only one other table occupied and it’s on the far side of the room. “He suggested it would be easier if I kept my eyes closed. After I let him undress me I sat there waiting. When I opened my eyes he was holding a camera.”
“He took your picture?”
“He took lots of pictures. I couldn’t stop crying. I didn’t understand. When he tried to kiss me I begged him to stop. I swear I got down on my knees and prayed.” Grace looks at her hands. She hadn’t realized that Macy was holding them.
“What happened?”
“I guess I was luckier than Molly Parks. He kept on saying how sorry he was. He promised he’d never try something like that again. A week later he left Collier and I didn’t see him again for four years.”
“You hadn’t heard from him in all that time?”
“Not a word.”
“Did he visit you the day your mother died?”
“He started coming round a week earlier. At first he just left letters for me at the back gate. He even wrote me a poem.”
“So the morning your mother died you got dressed up for him?”
“I was going to let him into the house but I changed my mind.”
“Is that why he killed your mother?”
“I swear it wasn’t him. Besides, he was more sad than angry. He said he wanted to be friends like before.”
“Did you believe him?”
“Yeah, I guess I did at first, but then I saw what was done to my bedroom wall. It was from a poem he’d written me. I hated him after that.”
“So you knew who did it and you didn’t say anything?”
She looks up. “Whoever killed my mother is trying to set him up. He’s never been in my bedroom.”
“You still should have told me.”
“He told me my uncle had the photos all this time. My uncle knew what happened to me and he never said a word.”
“These were the photos from the basement?”
“And now my mother’s killer has them.”
Macy leans back and watches the young woman across from her unravel. “Is there anything else you want to tell me? Like his name, for instance.”
“He has my sketchbook. I don’t want anyone to see it.”
“Grace, I need his name.”
“You’re angry with me. I knew you wouldn’t understand.”
“I’m not angry, but I need to do my job. As much as I’d like to spare your feelings I also need to stop this guy before he hurts another child.”
“Everyone in Collier is going to find out.”
“Why do you care so much what these people think? You don’t owe them anything.”
Grace grabs her bag and slides out of the booth. “You really have no idea what it’s like living in this town. You’ll go back to Helena but I’ll be stuck here. I promise you these people will remind me of what happened every single day.”
Macy follows her outside but stops short when she sees how close Grace is standing to the road. Traffic is heavy and a fire engine barrels down the center lane, followed by several patrol cars. It’s almost impossible to hear anything over the lament of sirens. Dark smoke rises up into the air from buildings near the town square.
Macy eases her way down the icy steps. “Grace, no one who really understands what happened to you would ever think you’re stupid.”
Grace turns to face Macy but keeps her heels hanging over the edge of the curb like she’s a diver preparing to do a backflip from a springboard.
Macy extends a hand. There’s a deep pain in her side that wasn’t there before. “Please, Grace,” she says, taking a cautious step forward. “Come back inside.”
Grace shifts her gaze toward the town square and watches as a news helicopter descends on Collier.
“Grace, I can’t protect you from this man if you don’t tell me his name.”
Grace’s eyes flit up and down the road, searching for a break in the traffic. Farther north in the direction of the central bridge the light has gone red. “I don’t believe you.”
“Give me a chance and I’ll prove it.”
Grace addresses the oncoming cars, raising her voice so Macy can hear her. “I don’t want anyone to see the photos or the sketchbook.”
“I promise I’ll take care of it. I just need a name, Grace.” Macy raises a hand and touches Grace’s shoulder. “I can’t help you if you don’t give me a name.”
Grace takes a deep breath before reaching up and squeezing Macy’s fingers. “Dustin Ash,” she says before jumping off the curb and disappearing behind a fast-moving truck.
Macy’s screams are lost in a barrage of horns. She walks up and down the sidewalk, peeking between the cars, which slow down but never quite stop. She doesn’t see Grace anywhere. Traffic starts to move faster again and she too quickens her pace, heading south along Main Street. She stops when she gets to the next intersection. Across the street music blasts out of Murphy’s Tavern every time someone opens the front door. There are crowds of people outside but she recognizes none of them.
Macy slowly walks back to the restaurant with her hands clasped firmly at her sides. Sharp cramps sweep across her abdomen. On the wooden walkway she bends forward and waits for it to pass.
“Damn it,” she says, pulling out her phone and dialing. “Warren, I’ve lost Grace Adams outside the diner in Old Town. Send some cars out looking for her. She can’t have gotten very far.”
22
Hayley is late. Jared gazes out at the summer cabins strung along the quiet lanes winding through Olsen’s Landing. In the moonlight the red metal siding is the color of mud. A half mile to the north the central bridge spans the river at its widest point. Through the trees he can see the headlights of cars passing along it in a steady stream. He’s tucked his truck up next to his family’s cabin where it can’t be seen. As a child the summers he spent on the river were the best of his life. He and his brother would sleep on the fold-out sofa in the loft and his parents shared the one bedroom. All their friends came to hang out along the shoreline for fishing, picnics, and barbecues. Nobody went home hungry and nobody went home early.
Jared scrolls through the messages on his phone. There’s nothing from Hayley, but Lexxie has been trying to get in touch for two days, and he hasn’t returned the calls. They’d gone out to dinner on the evening of Grace’s birthday and ended up arguing on Lexxie’s doorstep. You need to talk to me, she said, not worrying if the neighbors heard her shouting at him. What you’re doing is crazy. Hayley can’t give you what you want. I can. Lexxie was right about one thing. What he’s doing is crazy.
Jared snaps the phone shut and waits. Pamela’s message had been very specific about the time and place Hayley wanted to meet him. He looks at his watch and lights up a cigarette. It’s after six and Hayley is overdue by nearly an hour. Since Brian took away her cell phone Jared doesn’t have any other way of contacting her. Jared has bo
ught her a new one. It sits on the seat next to him. He’s already added his contact details. More than anything he needs to know she’s safe. A few minutes later headlights trail across the spruce pines and cabin walls. Relieved she’s finally arrived, Jared gets out of the cab and takes a few steps forward, stopping when he realizes the engine sounds too big. He hugs the wall and watches as the vehicle slows down to a crawl before the narrow lane takes a sharp turn. Brian Camberwell’s profile is clearly visible in the glow of the dashboard lights.
Jared slips on the ice as he scrambles back to his truck. His knees knock hard against the frozen surface and he just manages to get his hands out in front of him before he falls into the side of his truck. He grabs the door handle and pulls himself up but drops the keys when he’s getting them out of his pocket. He feels light-headed digging around in the snow on his hands and knees trying to find them.
Jared keeps his speed down and his headlights off as he makes his way up the narrow lanes. Every few seconds his eyes flick up to his rearview mirror looking for Brian’s headlights but no one is following him. The truck’s suspension bounces along the ruts until he passes Trina’s grocery store and the road becomes smooth again. He switches on his headlights and drives directly to Hayley’s street. He is relieved to see her car in the driveway. He checks his mirror again but there’s still no sign of Brian. For the moment he knows he’s safe. Jared pulls over to the side and keeps the engine running. The lights are all on in the front rooms of Hayley’s house and he can see her silhouette moving about the kitchen. He calls her and she picks up on the first ring.
He keeps his voice low. “Is everything okay? I went out to Olsen’s Landing to meet you and Brian was there.”
Jared watches Hayley pace the floor of her kitchen. “I never agreed to that. We’re supposed to meet later outside my sister’s apartment.”
“That’s not what your mother told me!”
“I’m so sick of her games.”
“Is she trying to get me killed?”
“No, I think she’s just trying to piss you off.”
“Why was Brian out there anyway?”
He hears Hayley’s breath catch. “Who knows? A half hour ago he got pissed off at something and stormed out of the house. I don’t even think he knew where he was going.”
Jared rubs his face. Even though it’s cold in the cab of his truck, he’s sweating. “What brought that on?”
“Near as I can tell it was something he saw on the news.”
“You’ve got to talk to your mother. This isn’t the first time she’s pulled this kind of shit with me.”
“It may be a while before I get a chance. The police arrested her about an hour ago. She’s been charged with obstruction of justice.”
“Jesus, what did she do?”
“I’m not sure. It sounds serious though.”
Jared goes quiet for a few seconds. He watches Hayley’s silhouette lean against the counter and dip its head. “Are you okay?”
Her voice drops to a whisper. “I miss you. Where are you now?”
“Outside.”
She comes closer to the kitchen window and presses her palm flat against the glass. “You’re so close.”
He swings his car out onto the road. “I’m too close. I need to go.”
“Can you pick me up outside Janice’s apartment in an hour?”
“I’m not sure that’s a good idea. Murphy’s Tavern is right next door. I drove by earlier and it looked like half of Collier was out front.”
“Just park in the back of the lot. I’ll come find you.”
It’s early evening and Collier is buzzing with noise and traffic. The pavements outside Janice’s apartment building are crowded with smokers spilling out of the front entrance to Murphy’s Tavern. Jared finds a space at the far end of the parking lot. It will be another hour before Hayley shows up. He goes inside. The tavern is busy and the wait is three deep at the bar. Jared stands at the entrance, scanning the crowd. A five-piece bluegrass band is playing on a small stage. The guy collecting the cover charge recognizes Jared and waves him through.
“Hey, Jared, you okay? Heard you’ve had a rough week.”
Jared has to shout to be heard. “They say bad luck comes in threes.”
“So does that mean you’re done now?”
“God, I hope so.”
A bartender Jared knows tilts his head in the direction of the town square before plunking a beer down in front of his friend. “I’m surprised you’re not working. I heard there’s a building on fire near the town’s square.”
“I’ve been given a few weeks off so it’s not something I need to worry about.”
“To be honest,” he says, looking over at the stage, “bluegrass is not really my thing, but this band is good for business.”
Jared slides onto an empty barstool. “Too bad they’re not good for music.”
Everyone at the bar is talking about Leanne’s murder and they soon pull Jared into their conversations, offering him drinks he doesn’t accept and pumping him for details he doesn’t give. Grace’s name keeps coming up. There’s a rumor going around that she had an affair with a married high school teacher.
Jared tries to be patient. “If you knew her at all, you’d realize she’s the last person to have an affair with a married man.”
The bartender slides another beer toward Jared and winks. “Some people reckon she’s the only virgin left in the Flathead Valley.”
Jared doesn’t laugh with everyone else. He leans against the bar and works his way through his beer, focusing more on what’s going on in his own head than the conversation around him. At one point he hears someone whisper his name. Jared’s had a rough week, let him be.
When he slips away, nobody notices.
The parking lot is icy and heavily rutted. Jared has to work hard to keep his balance. He checks his phone and finds three missed calls from Macy and a text asking him to meet her at the sheriff’s office. He’s about to ring her back when something catches his eye. A shadow moves between parked cars and his eyes follow it, filling in the gaps and making it into a man.
“Hey,” he yells, slipping his phone into his pocket. “Anyone out there?”
Jared takes a step back and moves to the right, walking slowly and keeping his eyes on the dark recesses between the vehicles. The lights from the tavern’s back door don’t reach this far. Everything fades from gray to black. Aside from the glint off windshields and metallic paint it’s almost total darkness. He hears things though. A footfall. The brush of fabric. A strangled cough. Jared moves forward, straining his eyes. His truck is within easy reach. He thinks of the gun he keeps in the glove compartment and asks again.
“Is anyone there?”
There’s a light tap on his shoulder and he spins around, almost striking out at the person behind him. He stops when he sees Hayley’s face. He starts to put his arms around her but thinks again when he remembers where they are. Her smile is fragile. She dips her forehead to his chest and holds it there.
Jared is so relieved to see her he doesn’t think twice. He takes her hand and they climb into the cab of his truck. Hayley doesn’t speak. She doesn’t even whisper a simple hello. Before Jared can settle in behind the wheel, her hands are everywhere. She rises up multi-limbed like some Hindu goddess, taking hold of him with her mouth, her legs, her arms, her fingers, her toes. One second she’s kissing him and the next she’s wrapped up inside him, snatching every bit he has on offer. She tastes of peppermint and tobacco and her cheeks feel flushed under his touch. Jared closes his mouth over hers and pulls her in closer still, holding her face tight in his hands, trying to contain her.
He’s making promises every time his lips are free. Losing his breath, his mind. The windows mist over and the lights from passing cars trail around the interior of the cab. He watches her fear ebb away, sees her smile return. He pulls off her coat, hat, and scarf and it all crumples beneath them. He snakes his hands under her sweater, feelin
g the grooves between her ribs, undoing the clasp of her bra. She’s raking her hands up and down his chest, peeling away his layers, undoing his belt and pulling him down on top of her. Jared is inside her and he’s telling her things he can’t take back.
He kisses her hard on the mouth and wishes they were at home and that she was completely his. Making dinner in his kitchen, getting her kids ready for bed, maybe making one of their own. Wrapped up and half undressed, they talk about when this will be easy. He kisses her bandaged wrists and plays with her fingers, smoothing each one out from knuckle to nail. He makes more promises, knowing that he’ll have to keep every last one. It’s the first time he’s ever seen Hayley cry. Their heads rest against a door and they’re in the parking lot of Murphy’s Tavern and it’s never been this good before. It’s like coming home.
23
No one is answering the phone at Grace’s apartment. Macy swings her car out onto Main Street and puts the sirens on. It only takes a couple of minutes to drive the short distance to Grace’s door. A patrol car is parked outside. She pulls up alongside and exchanges a few words with Ted Bishop, the officer on duty. He hasn’t seen Grace, but as far as he knows Elizabeth Lamm is still home. Macy has to ring the bell several times before she gets a response. Elizabeth comes to the door wearing a dressing gown and slippers.
“I was just going to bed.” She looks over Macy’s shoulder. “Where is my niece?”
“I was hoping she was here.” Macy clears her throat. “She got upset and ran off.”
Elizabeth gestures for Macy to come inside. “Grace has had a difficult day.”
Macy stands just inside the doorway with her hat in her hands and watches as Elizabeth walks into the kitchen. Macy is finding it difficult to hide how angry she is.
“Grace has had a difficult life.”
“It is true that she’s had more than her fair share of problems.”
“Did you know that Dustin Ash tried to rape your niece when she was fourteen and that he returned to Collier intent on rekindling their relationship?”
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