Sara turned her head as the two men went inside the clinic. She couldn’t look at Jared anymore. It hurt too much. It hurt too much to even be here. She slid over the console and got behind the steering wheel. She pressed the button to start the engine. Nothing happened. Will had taken the key with him.
Sara got out of the car, leaving the door open. She looked up at the full moon. The glow was remarkably bright, illuminating the ground in front of her. She remembered a Civil War letter Jeffrey had read to her a long time ago. It was written by a lonely wife to her soldier husband. She was wondering whether or not the same moon was shining down on her lover.
Sara walked to the back of the clinic. There was a sign with Hare’s name on it, but her anger about the drug study had long dissipated. She couldn’t dredge up any sympathy for Allison Spooner or Jason Howell or even poor Tommy Braham, who had somehow gotten caught in the middle of it. All of her emotions had dwindled to a dull ache. Even her hatred for Lena was gone. Trying to stop her was tilting at windmills. There was nothing Sara could do to stop her. If the world fell down, Lena would still be standing. She would outlive them all.
The yard behind the clinic was a mud pit. Elliot hadn’t bothered to keep up anything. The picnic tables were gone, the swing set dismantled. The wildflowers Sara had planted with her mother were long dead. She stood on the bank of the stream. It was a river now, the shush of churning waters drowning out all sound. The big maple that had given so much shade over the years had fallen into the current. Its canopy barely touched the opposite side of the shore. As Sara watched, chunks of earth fell into the water and were quickly whisked away. Her father had taken her fishing on these shores. There was a field of large rocks a half mile down where catfish swam in and out of the eddies. Tessa had loved climbing on top of the granite to lie in the sun. Some of the boulders were as high as ten feet tall. Sara guessed they were underwater now. Everything in this town, no matter how strong, eventually got washed away.
Sara heard a branch snap behind her. She turned around. A woman in a pink nurse’s uniform stood a few feet away. She was out of breath. Her makeup was smeared, mascara ringing dark circles under her eyes. The plastic red nails on her fingers were chipped and broken.
“Darla,” Sara realized. She hadn’t seen Frank’s oldest daughter in years. “Are you all right?”
Darla seemed reticent. She glanced over her shoulder. “You heard about Daddy, I guess.”
“Is he still refusing to go to the hospital?”
She nodded, again looking behind her. “Maybe you could help me work on him, get him to let them run some tests.”
“I’m probably not the best person for that job right now.”
“He piss you off?”
“No, I just—” Sara felt logic start to intrude. It was almost three in the morning. There was no conceivable reason for Darla to be here. “What’s going on?”
“My car broke down.” Darla glanced over her shoulder for a third time. She wasn’t looking at the clinic. She was looking at the police station. “Can you give me a lift to Daddy’s?”
Sara felt her body reacting to a danger she couldn’t quite put her finger on. Her heart was pounding. Her mouth was spitless. This wasn’t right. None of this was right.
Darla indicated Sara should walk ahead of her to the parking lot. Her tone turned hard. “Let’s go.”
Sara put her hand to the back of her neck, thinking about Allison Spooner at the lake, the way her head had been held down while the knife sliced into her throat. “What have you done?”
“I just need to get out of here, all right?”
“Why?”
Darla’s tone turned even harsher. “Just give me the key to your car, Sara. I don’t have time for this.”
“What did you do to those kids?”
“The same thing I’m going to do to you if you don’t give me that fucking key.” There was a glint of light at Darla’s waist, then a knife was in her hand. The blade was about three and a half inches long. The tip was sharpened to a menacing point. “I don’t want to hurt you. Just give me the key.”
Sara took another step back. Her foot sank into the sandy shore. Panic gripped her throat like a hand. She had seen what Darla could do with the knife. She knew the woman had no qualms about killing.
“Give me the key.”
Sara heard the roar of the river swelling behind her. Where was Will? What was taking so long? She looked left and right, trying to decide whether to run.
“Don’t,” the woman said, guessing her thoughts. “I’m not going to hurt you. I just want the key.”
Sara could barely speak. “I don’t have it.”
“Don’t lie to me.” Darla checked the station again. She hadn’t once looked at the clinic. Either she had already taken care of Will and Jared or she didn’t know they were still inside. “Don’t be stupid, honey. You’ve seen what I can do.”
Sara’s voice shook as she asked, “What happens if I give it to you?”
Darla stepped forward, closing the space between them. The blade was steady in her hand. She was less than three feet away now. Within striking distance. “Then you can walk home to your mama and daddy and I’ll be gone.”
Sara felt a momentary sense of relief before the truth hit her. It couldn’t work that way. They both knew Sara wouldn’t go home. She’d cross the street to the police station and tell them everything that had happened. Darla wouldn’t make it to the city limits before every squad car in the county surrounded her.
The woman repeated, “Give me the key.” Without warning, she slashed the blade through the air. The metal made a whistling sound as it passed in front of Sara’s face. “Now, dammit.”
“Okay! Okay!” Sara put her trembling hand in her pocket, but her eyes were on the knife. “I’ll give you the key if you tell me why you killed them.”
Darla stared at her in cold appraisal. “They were blackmailing me.”
Sara took a small step back. “The study?”
Her arm relaxed, but the blade was still close. “Students kept dropping out, not showing up when they were supposed to. I got Jason to double up his blood work and do an extra journal. He pulled Allison into it, then they got Tommy involved. We were gonna split the money fifty-fifty. Then they got greedy and decided they wanted all of it.”
Sara could not take her eyes off the knife. “You were trying to frame Jason for killing Allison.”
“You always were smart.”
“Did Hare know?”
“Why do you think I’m leaving town? He found Tommy’s paperwork. Said he was going to report it to the ethics panel.” For the first time, she showed remorse. “I didn’t mean for Tommy to get hurt. He didn’t know anything about it. I couldn’t have them looking too hard at the case reports.”
“Tommy doubled up on his pills,” Sara guessed. “He was enrolled twice, so he took twice the dose. That’s why his moods were altered. That’s why he killed himself, isn’t it?”
“I’m done fucking around with you.” She straightened her arm. The knife was a few inches from Sara’s throat. “Give me the key.”
Sara allowed herself a glance back at the clinic. The door was still closed. “I don’t have it.”
“Don’t lie to me, bitch. I saw you in the car.”
“I don’t—”
Darla lunged. Sara stepped back, holding up her arm in defense. She felt the blade slice open her skin, but no pain followed. All she could feel was heart-stopping panic as the ground under her feet suddenly gave way, sending them both tumbling backward.
Sara’s back slammed into the ground. Darla reared up, the knife raised above her head. Sara tried to scramble, instinctively rolling onto her stomach before she realized this was exactly the position Allison Spooner had been in when the blade plunged into her neck. Sara tried to roll back over, but Darla’s weight was too much. She gripped the back of Sara’s neck. Sara pushed with her hands, kicked with her feet, did whatever she could to get out from unde
r the woman.
Instead of feeling the blade sink into her flesh, Sara felt the earth tremble, the ground again give way beneath her. There was another feeling of free fall. The roar of the river got louder as she fell face-first into the icy water. Sara gasped as the cold enveloped her. Water poured into her mouth and lungs. She couldn’t tell which direction was up. Her feet and hands found no purchase. She flailed, trying to find air, but something was holding her down.
Darla. She could feel the woman’s hands gripping her waist, fingers digging into her skin. Sara struggled, pounding her hands into the woman’s back. Her lungs were screaming in her chest. She brought up her knee as hard as she could. Darla’s hold loosened. Sara pushed herself up to the surface, gulping air.
“Help!” she yelled. “Help!” Sara screamed the word so loud that her throat was raw from the effort.
Darla shot into the air beside her, mouth gaping open, eyes wide with panic. Her hand clamped around Sara’s arm. The riverbank was a blur as the current shot them downstream. Sara dug her nails into the back of Darla’s hand. Debris slapped against her head. Leaves. Twigs. Limbs. Darla held tight. She had never been a good swimmer. She wasn’t trying to pull Sara down. She was holding on for her life.
The water changed from a low roar to a deafening scream. The rock field. The jutting granite stones Tessa and Sara had climbed as children. She saw them up ahead, scattered like teeth waiting to rip them in two. Water split around sharp edges. The current turned violent as it hurtled them forward. Thirty feet. Twenty feet. Sara grabbed Darla under her arm and pulled as hard as she could, thrusting her forward. The crack of the woman’s skull against the granite reverberated like a ringing bell. Sara slammed into her. Her shoulder crunched. Her head exploded.
Sara fought the dizziness that wanted to take over. She tasted blood in her mouth. She wasn’t moving downstream anymore. Her back was pinned to a large crevice in the rock. White water pounded against her chest, making it impossible for her to move. Darla’s hand was trapped between Sara’s back and the granite. Her lifeless body waved like a tattered flag. Her skull was open, river water flooding into the gash. Sara could feel the woman’s hand slipping. There was a violent jerk, then the current whisked her downstream.
Sara coughed. Water poured into her open mouth, flooded up her nose. She reached above her head, feeling flat stone. She had to turn around. She had to find a way to climb on top of the rock. Sara bent her knees and braced the soles of her feet against the granite. She tried to push up. Nothing happened. She screamed, trying again and again with the same result. The water was peeling her off the rock. She was sliding, losing her grip. Her head dipped beneath the surface. She struggled to stay up. Every muscle in her body shook from the effort. It was too much. Her shoulder screamed with pain. Her thighs were aching. Her fingers were losing their grip. There was no fighting it. The water was too strong. Her body continued sliding down the rock. Sara took a deep breath, gulping in air just before her head dipped below the surface. The constant sound of the rushing water turned to complete and total silence.
Sara pressed her lips tightly together. Her hair floated out in front of her. She could see the moon above her, the bright light somehow managing to pierce the water’s edge. The rays were like fingers reaching toward her. She heard something underneath the quiet in her ears. The river had a voice, a gurgling, soothing voice that held a promise that things would be better on the other side. The current was speaking to her, telling her it was okay to let go. Sara realized with some shock that she wanted to. She wanted to just give in, to go to that place where Jeffrey was waiting for her. Not heaven. Not some earthly ideal, but a place of quiet and comfort where the thought of him, the memory of him, did not open like a fresh wound every time she breathed. Every time she walked in the places they walked. Every time she thought of his beautiful eyes, his mouth, his hands.
Sara reached through the water, touching the fingers of moonlight shining down. The cold had turned into a shroud of warmth. She opened her mouth. Air bubbles traced up her face. Her heartbeat was slow, lethargic. She let her emotions wash over her. She let herself feel the luxury of surrender just one more second before she forced herself back to the surface, twisting her body around so that she could find hold on the rock.
“No!” she screamed, raging at the river. Her arms shook as she clawed her way up the rough surface of the stone. The water gripped her like a million hands trying to drag her back in, but Sara fought with every fiber of her being to drag her way to the top of the granite.
She rolled over onto her back, staring up at the sky. The moon was still gloriously shining down, the light reflecting off the trees, the rocks, the river. Sara laughed, because she was sick of the alternative. She laughed so hard that she started coughing. She pushed herself up to sitting, and coughed until there was nothing left inside.
She breathed deeply, drawing life back into her body. Her heart pounded wildly in her chest. The cuts and bruises riddling her skin started to make themselves known. Pain woke every nerve ending, telling her she was still alive. Sara took another deep breath. The air was so crisp she could feel it touching every part of her lungs. She put her hand to her neck. The necklace was gone. Her fingers did not find the familiar shape of Jeffrey’s ring.
“Oh, Jeffrey,” she whispered. “Thank you.”
Thank you for letting me go.
But go where? Sara looked around. The moon was so bright it might as well have been daytime. She was in the middle of the river, at least ten feet from either bank. Water churned white around the smaller rocks that surrounded her. She knew some of them went at least eight feet down. She tested her shoulder. The tendon clicked, but she could still move it.
Sara stood up. There was a weeping willow on the bank, its waving tendrils beckoning her to the clearing underneath its branches. If she could get to one of the smaller rocks without being swept away, she could stand on top and jump to shore.
She heard a branch snap. Leaves rustled. Will came into the clearing. His chest heaved up and down from running. He had a rope coiled in his hands. She could read every emotion on his face. Fear. Confusion. Relief.
Sara raised her voice to be heard over the rushing water. “What took you so long?”
His mouth opened in surprise. “Errands,” he managed, still breathless. “There was a line at the bank.”
She laughed so hard she started coughing again.
“Are you all right?”
She nodded, struggling against another coughing fit. “What about Lena?”
“She was in the basement. Jared called an ambulance, but …” His voice trailed off. “She’s in bad shape.”
Sara leaned her hands on her knees. Yet again, Lena needed help. Yet again, it fell to Sara to pick up the pieces. Oddly, she didn’t feel the usual reluctance or even the anger that had been her constant companion since that awful day she had watched her husband die. Sara felt at peace for the first time in four years. Tessa was right—you couldn’t fall off the floor. Eventually, you had to get up, dust yourself off, and get back to the business of living.
“Sara?”
She held out her hand toward Will. “Throw me some rope.”
CHAPTER NINETEEN
WILL SLOWED THE PORSCHE TO TURN ONTO CAPLAN ROAD, trying to follow the directions Sara had given him. She had drawn arrows by the street names, and as long as Will held the sheet of paper in the right direction, he should be able to make it to Frank Wallace’s house without losing his way. Sara had even given him her reading glasses, which were so small on his face that he looked like Poindexter’s idiot cousin. Still, she was right. The glasses worked. The words on the page in front of him still did their tricks, but at least they were sharper.
His phone rang, and Will fished around in his pocket, steering with his knees for fear of dropping the directions. He saw Faith’s number in the caller ID.
“Where have you been?” she demanded. “I’ve left two messages on your cell. I even called
Amanda.”
“Aren’t you supposed to be on maternity leave?”
“Emma’s asleep and I’m sick of being in this stupid hospital.” She began a litany of complaints that started with the bad Jell-O and quickly segued into breast tenderness.
Will stopped her there. “I got my bad guy.”
“What?” Faith’s voice went up in surprise, and he realized that she’d had no great hope that he would solve the case so quickly.
“Thanks for the vote of confidence.”
“Oh, shut up. You know I’m just annoyed because you did it without me.”
Faith wasn’t given to sudden fits of emotional honesty. Will knew better than to pursue the point. Instead, he told her about the drug trial and the lengths that Darla Jackson had gone to in order to take out her blackmailers and get rid of Lena Adams.
Faith asked, “How much money are we talking about?”
“We don’t know how many records she was falsifying. Maybe tens of thousands of dollars.”
“Holy crap. Where do I sign up?”
“No kidding,” Will agreed. The money would’ve come in handy. He wasn’t looking forward to going back to Atlanta and digging up his front yard again. “Lena’s still at the hospital. I think they’re going to keep her for a while.”
“I’m surprised Sara helped her.”
Will had been surprised as well, but he guessed being a doctor meant you couldn’t pick and choose who you saved. Still, there hadn’t been much talking while Sara hooked up the IV and ordered Jared to get Lena water, then more blankets, then more water. Will wasn’t sure how much of this was meant to help Lena and how much of it was designed to keep Jared from having a nervous breakdown. Either way, it had worked to bring a much-needed level of calm to the situation.
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