I fell to my knees beside her, and my hands shook as I pushed the pillow aside. A moan ripped from me at the sight of her wide, sightless, bloodshot eyes.
He had hurt her before holding the pillow over her nose and mouth and suffocating her. Her face was already bruised and swollen. Blood was smeared across her face from a split lip, and he had shoved the pillow over her face so forcefully, he broke her nose.
I rocked back and forth, trying to contain the storm of grief welling within me. I needed to get Sam and get out of here, but I could not force myself to move from her side. I picked up her limp hand and pressed it against my cheek, choking on the sobs I struggled to keep at bay. I pressed my lips to her palm before placing her hand gently back on the floor and leaning over her to close her eyes.
She died frightened and in pain. The knowledge threatened to crush me. I would have remained by her side, but movement from the corner of my eye startled me violently.
Sam stood at the end of the hallway, eyes wide and unblinking. Galvanized, I scrambled to my feet and rushed to him. I lifted him into my arms and pressed his face into my throat.
“Don’t look, baby. Don’t look,” I whispered brokenly.
We fled down the fire escape. I could not be certain he was truly gone and was not lying in wait. It had not occurred to me how he would twist and warp the story until I saw the news feature a day later. He had ensured there was no connection to him at all. It was a story of a lover’s quarrel ending in murder. I killed my girlfriend in a jealous rage and kidnapped her son.
“She came to me for help,” I said to Hector. “But I couldn’t keep her safe.” My fingers were buried in Frank’s hair, and I glanced up to find Hector studying me.
“You’ve kept her son safe,” he said. Something within me wilted in relief at hearing that affirmation. “And now Hastings won’t be able to hurt anyone else.”
I said nothing.
He did not seem to need confirmation, though. “I looked into the case. There is a lot of evidence planted against you for her murder.”
It was nothing I had not suspected. I hesitated. At the end of the day, he was still a police officer. But it was as I told him the day I went to him for help: I did not think law and order were high on his list of priorities. “If I were to turn myself in and go to trial, would I be convicted?”
He rubbed his jaw. “Yes,” he said reluctantly. “I think you would be, from what I’ve read of the police reports. And now with Hastings… It wouldn’t be good.”
The keys to Evelyn’s car were clenched so tightly in my hand that the metal was biting into my palm. I forced my grip to relax. “I thought as much. It’s why I’ve never tried to come forward before.” A thought occurred to me. “What’s going to happen to Senator Larson?”
Some indecipherable expression moved across his face. “He’s going to go away for murder. He killed a taxidermist who wanted in on his operation.”
“Will that close down the poaching?”
“For here and now? Yes. It’s not enough for these species, but it’s a start.”
We stood together silently watching boy and dog play together before Hector asked, “Where will you go?”
I made a noncommittal sound.
“You have a passport to let you cross the border? In a name other than Faye Anders, if Hastings’s disappearance gets out before you get there?” he asked.
“Yes,” I admitted.
He met my gaze. “Alaska is an easy place to disappear.”
I understood what he was telling me. I took a long moment to study him. There was no softness to the man. His face was lined, his eyes hard. I was not certain I had ever seen him smile.
“I hope you find out what happened to your wife and daughter.”
The hard edges eased for a moment. “You and your boy better get going.”
“I drew up the paperwork,” I said. “The inn is yours, if you want it.”
His eyebrows went up. “Why would you do that? Give it to Evelyn.”
“I tried,” I admitted. “She doesn’t want it, though she would like to continue living here. And I did it because you don’t have a home right now, and that is partially my fault.”
His expression was so bemused I almost smiled. “What would I do with an inn?”
“That’s for you to figure out.” I turned. “Sam,” I called, and the young boy scooped the puppy up in his arms and joined us. His lips trembled in a sad semblance of a smile as he kissed the little red ball of fur’s head and then offered the puppy to Hector.
For the first time, I saw Hector’s mouth curve as he gazed down at Sam, though his was a sad semblance of a smile as well. “I’d like for you to look out for this little guy. That pup needs a boy, and he’s picked you.”
Sam’s gaze flew to mine. I nodded. He had to tilt his head back to meet Hector’s gaze, and they stared at one another for a long moment.
“I’ll take good care of him,” Sam said, his voice hoarse and soft. It made my eyes burn to hear it.
“I know you will,” Hector said. He reached out and rubbed the puppy’s head, his hand dwarfing the small dog, before he glanced at me and nodded. He called Frank to his side, and then turned around and walked away.
Sam moved to take my hand.
“You know I love you, don’t you?” I asked. He looked up at me and smiled before nodding.
I stowed our bags in the hatchback as Sam climbed into the backseat with the puppy cradled in his arms. I hesitated before closing the door, but I could see no evidence of what had previously been stowed in the cargo space.
I climbed behind the wheel and glanced in the rearview mirror as I turned the ignition, adjusting the mirror so I could see boy and dog. Both were smiling at one another.
“Are you ready?” I asked, forcing lightness into my voice for his sake. “You’ll have to think of a good name for the puppy.”
Sam met my gaze in the mirror and started to nod before he stopped himself. “Yes,” he said. “I’m ready.”
I drove north.
epilogue
THREE MONTHS LATER
“Dammit, Cocoa!” The woman shoved her sockless feet into her boots and wrapped her robe tighter around her. “Come back here, girl!”
But the chocolate Labrador retriever was gone, tearing into the tree line with a scent up her nose and wanderlust in her heart.
The woman grabbed a flashlight and her rifle and started out after the dog.
It took thirty minutes of searching the woods before there was a response to the woman’s whistles and calls. A bark sounded in the distance. Moments later, the Labrador crashed through the underbrush back to her owner’s side.
“What do you have?” she asked, but the dog raced ahead of her through the woods toward home.
The woman sighed and followed. When they reached their back porch, she commanded the dog to drop her prize. The Lab obeyed reluctantly, and her find bounced on the wood deck, gave a slight, meandering roll, and came to rest against the foot of one of the Adirondacks.
The woman dropped her flashlight.
The dog moved to grab her find from the forest, but the woman caught her collar. “Leave it,” she said sharply, and ushered the dog inside. She hurried to find her cell phone.
And on the deck, the narrow beam of the flashlight lit the hollow eye sockets of the skull.
About the Author
Meghan Holloway found her first Nancy Drew mystery in a sun-dappled attic at the age of eight and subsequently fell in love with the grip and tautness of a well-told mystery. She flew an airplane before she learned how to drive a car, did her undergrad work in Creative Writing in the sweltering south, and finished a Masters of Library and Information Science in the blustery north. She spent a summer and fall in Maine picking peaches and apples, traveled the world for a few years, and did a stint fighting crime in the records section of a police department. She now lives in the foothills of the Appalachians wit
h her standard poodle and spends her days as a scientist with the requisite glasses but minus the lab coat. She is the author of HIDING PLACE, HUNTING GROUND, and ONCE MORE UNTO THE BREACH, all available from Polis Books.
Follow her at @AMeghanHolloway.
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