Ashley woke later than usual, cursing herself for missing the best morning light for painting. She shoved out of bed bleary-eyed.Since visiting the grave hadn’t worked the night before, she’d convinced herself that her “visions” were brought on by anxiety, stress, and exhaustion, so she’d stayed up most of the night, trying to think of all the things she was scared of. A pretty miserable way to spend the time.And nothing to show for it. She didn’t “see” a thing.But she had to. She had to figure out a way to get the FBI off her back. She would somehow carve out a normal life, for her and her daughter, no matter what she had to do to get there. She would paint; she would force a vision if it killed her; she would not give up.At least she no longer had to fight Jack. She was grateful beyond words for that break. He made a bad enemy.But if they were no longer enemies, what were they?The way his arms felt around her came back in a rush, unbalancing her a little as she plodded down th
Jack started his morning with calling the Lanius gallery and asking about how to reach the mushroom artist, Greg Shatzkin. The guy had been all around the mushroom houses. He could have been the one to track those spores onto the last Blackwell crime scene. He could be Blackwell.But it didn’t turn out that way. Shatzkin, when finally reached, claimed a solid alibi, teaching at a local college, which was confirmed by the admin office. Another dead lead.After Jack finished grousing over that, he spent the morning online, checking eBay and Craigslist, checking local listings against the roster of stolen items he had from the burglaries. The work was tedious and not the case he wanted to work, but if this was the price he had to pay for being back on active duty, then so be it.His hand paused over the mouse as a listing for a laptop came up, same model as on his stolen items list. The hard drive would be wiped clean by now, the laptop pretty much unidentifiable, but he made note of the
He found no footprints as he moved forward, keeping a close eye on the ground, keeping his gun out, listening. The dark woods seemed endless suddenly, the frigid air menacing. He was pretty chilled through by the time he walked out of the woods.He walked around the backyard, did find some shoe prints, but not the size and tread he was looking for. As he strode up to the front door, he could hear Ashley talking and laughing inside.No extra car in her driveway but her own. Maybe she was on the phone.Light poured out the windows. He glanced back at the woods that stood in dark silence. And darker yet, the grave.He cursed, his breath visible in the air. He stabbed the doorbell before he could think more about it.Then Ashley opened the door, with a black eye, and everything inside him stilled. Rage rose swiftly. Whoever touched her—He hadn’t come up to the house with any clear idea of what he wanted, and whatever little he’d prepared in his head now fled, replaced by hot, pumping ang
“That I can promise.” She tilted her head. “So if Blackwell is in Jersey, why aryou here instead of being there?”“I’ll drive over tomorrow.”“Why not let the FBI handle it? You could let it go. You’re alive. You won.”He didn’t want to talk about it. And then he did anyway. He’d never cared before if anyone thought him an obsessed lunatic. He shouldn’t now. But he did.“I had a sister. Six years older than me. She raised me, pretty much. Breast cancer took our mother in her twenties.”A dull pain throbbed to life in the middle of his chest. Then came the flood of guilt. “Our father was working the graveyard shift. I was a teenage brat, wanted pizza. We lived too far outside of town. The only pizza shop didn’t deliver that far out. I begged her into it. I stayed home and played video games. She drove out for the pizza. She always tried to make up for the fact that I had to grow up without a mother. I was a spoiled little shit, pretty much.”“Jack—”“Anyway, she never came bace k. The
Jack tried not to think of Ashley or their kiss as he walked back to the locker room at the east end of the high school the next day. The team was gathering for a morning huddle about an upcoming game. He wanted to get this over with before he headed off to Jersey. He called out the players he needed, gathering them in the hallway.“Is this about the bones?” Bobby Adamo asked, gripping a cup of coffee. “You guys took off. Nobody said we were supposed to wait around.”None of the four looked anything but cocky, feeling safe in numbers and on their home turf.Jack watched their eyes, looking for the weakest link. Probably Tyler Foster, the councilman’s son. He was the youngest, the one Jack had caught on Ashley’s land before. He’d scared the boy when he’d tackled him.“Actually, I’m here about a laptop you’re selling online.” Jack looked Bobby in the eye. “I wouldn’t mind seeing it.”The surprise on the teenager’s face was quickly masked. The others pulled closer to him.“I don’t know w
“You’re so sweet,” Mrs. Kentner said, holding the small paintings at arm’s reach. “We really do appreciate your support.” She put the paintings on the living room table and lifted her purse from the floor, taking out a small box wrapped in sparkling paper. She handed it to Ashley. “For Maddie. Pete said she’s having her birthday party this weekend.”“Thank you. You really shouldn’t have.”“Well, the way things are going…” Mrs. Kentner gave a smile and a wink.Okay, so Pete told her mother about the date. Ashley felt a moment of embarrassment, then pushed it away.“I’m so glad he came back home,” the older woman said. “He deserves something good. The way he took care of me with the cancer…” Moisture glistened in the woman’s eyes.Ashley patted her hand. Pete did deserve something good, but was she it? A sudden wave of doubt rushed her. What was she doing with Pete? But then she thought, they were just going to look at the dam. They’d been friends for a long time. It didn’t have to be m
He stood in the middle of his life’s work, an installation that filled the entire top floor of one of the nicest buildings in Broslin. His soundproofed workshop was down in the basement. The downstairs he left as it had been when he’d bought the abandoned building. If anyone somehow peeked in through a boarded-up window, let them see nothing.But the top floor, here he spent money. The space could have been part of a wing in the Louvre. Not that he ever wanted his art to be moved there. This was his hometown. His museum should be here, maybe with the town named after him eventually. Let the French come here if they wanted to see his work. He was proud to be an American.The canvases that hung on the walls had been painted in living blood. They’d been his first true creations, the very thing that eventually led him onto the right path.He’d been in North Carolina to pick up a car he’d bought online. He met a young woman at the hotel bar. She came back to his room with him.And then she
The sound and sight of a dozen little girls tearing through the house, screaming at the top of their lungs, left Jack immobilized for a second as he stepped inside behind Ashley’s father. If there was a place on earth he didn’t belong, this was it. He would stay anyway. He put his gift on the pile that took up most of the window seat.William Price moved away to help one of Maddie’s friends lift a box of dolls off a shelf.Ashley stood in the middle of the melee, directing it like a general. She’d taken her coat off. Her light wool dress hugged her curves, falling to her knees. The sight distracted him for a minute as hot lust shot through him. That never seemed to change, whether they were on good terms or bad.A woman in her thirties swept by him with a tray of sweets. “Hi, I’m Heather, Jenny’s mom. Cupcakes?”She probably assumed he was the father of one of the little terrors. He didn’t correct her. “Jack. Maybe later. Thanks.”Ashley moved on to the kitchen, and he went after her.
He went with them to the hospital. They were all checked over for cuts and bruises as well as hypothermia. The doctor kept Maddie overnight for observation. Even though she hadn’t been in the water, she was a slight little thing and chilled through pretty fast. Since she was sleeping peacefully, the nurse sent Ashley home for a hot shower and rest. Jack got them a cab and went with her.And stayed with her.“Why don’t you grab a couple of hours of sleep?” he asked once she came out of the bathroom, wearing her thickest sweater and pants.She wrapped her arms around herself. She didn’t think she would ever get warm again. “I should go in and wait for Maddie.”“The nurse said she won’t be released until after the doctors make their rounds at eight in the morning.” He’d been up in the loft, looking out into the night.She looked past him, out through the windows. The emergency vehicles had left, darkness blanketing the reservoir again. He didn’t ask if he could stay, but she would have s
Her feet were frozen, her bedroom slippers little protection against the snow. Ashley wrapped her arms around her daughter as best she could, trying to keep Maddie warm. Her own body shook, and not only because of the cold. Dark panic gripped her as she shuffled forward on the ice.For the past year, she had barely been able to look at the reservoir. And now here she was, the place where Dylan had died, where she’d lost her life, then gained it back, thanks to the paramedics. Where she had nearly lost Maddie.So much grief and guilt was tied up in this expanse of rough ice. She couldn’t think here. All the fear of the past was getting mixed up with the panic of the present.She forced her brain to focus. “Why are you doing this, Graham?”The man shoved her toward a dark hole hacked into the ice. Another kind of grave. She recognized her axe next to it, the handle painted pink. He must have taken it from her garage. Next to the axe, a large cement brick waited with a ropetied to it. H
Bobby Adamo didn’t give up the information easily, keeping to his story that he didn’t know anything he’d handed over was stolen, that he hadn’t been present at the burglaries.Jack had to turn the conversation serious. Principal Adamo had threatened charges, called his lawyer, called Bing.Bing threatened back with a charge of obstruction of justice.And then Bobby miraculously remembered the exact address in a split second. Jack called it in.The old Broslin Bank on Main Street had stood empty for years. It was the most stately building in town, all brick and fancy masonry, recalling another era. The bank had shut down during the financial crises and now sat with its windows boarded. Still, it was an imposing presence, between one of the town’s two dozen galleries on one side and the post office on the other.According to Bobby, they’d gone in through the back, just in case there was some leftover money in the safe, but had found nothing but garbage. They had taken the fan as a souv
Everybody was at the police station. Since the FBI still had most of their things set up there, they were bringing Blackwell to Broslin, and nobody wanted to miss that. Even Leila came in, and Harper too, his arm in a sling. At first Jack had thought they’d come to see the monster. But as they clapped him on the back, one by one, Leila actually getting close enough for a hug, he realized they were here to support him.“There. It’s over now,” Bing said gruffly. “They have him.”Jack stood by the front desk, one eye always on the front door as he tried to figure out how the hell this happened. Apparently, he had friends.He’d come to Broslin for Blackwell, and Blackwell alone. He didn’t socialize; he didn’t hang out; he didn’t do the buddy thing. In his spare time, he either drove around town, trying to figure out where Blackwell might live, or sat at home going through the case files.The FBI bursting through the door with their suspect in cuffs refocused him.Right age, right body typ
The sound and sight of a dozen little girls tearing through the house, screaming at the top of their lungs, left Jack immobilized for a second as he stepped inside behind Ashley’s father. If there was a place on earth he didn’t belong, this was it. He would stay anyway. He put his gift on the pile that took up most of the window seat.William Price moved away to help one of Maddie’s friends lift a box of dolls off a shelf.Ashley stood in the middle of the melee, directing it like a general. She’d taken her coat off. Her light wool dress hugged her curves, falling to her knees. The sight distracted him for a minute as hot lust shot through him. That never seemed to change, whether they were on good terms or bad.A woman in her thirties swept by him with a tray of sweets. “Hi, I’m Heather, Jenny’s mom. Cupcakes?”She probably assumed he was the father of one of the little terrors. He didn’t correct her. “Jack. Maybe later. Thanks.”Ashley moved on to the kitchen, and he went after her.
He stood in the middle of his life’s work, an installation that filled the entire top floor of one of the nicest buildings in Broslin. His soundproofed workshop was down in the basement. The downstairs he left as it had been when he’d bought the abandoned building. If anyone somehow peeked in through a boarded-up window, let them see nothing.But the top floor, here he spent money. The space could have been part of a wing in the Louvre. Not that he ever wanted his art to be moved there. This was his hometown. His museum should be here, maybe with the town named after him eventually. Let the French come here if they wanted to see his work. He was proud to be an American.The canvases that hung on the walls had been painted in living blood. They’d been his first true creations, the very thing that eventually led him onto the right path.He’d been in North Carolina to pick up a car he’d bought online. He met a young woman at the hotel bar. She came back to his room with him.And then she
“You’re so sweet,” Mrs. Kentner said, holding the small paintings at arm’s reach. “We really do appreciate your support.” She put the paintings on the living room table and lifted her purse from the floor, taking out a small box wrapped in sparkling paper. She handed it to Ashley. “For Maddie. Pete said she’s having her birthday party this weekend.”“Thank you. You really shouldn’t have.”“Well, the way things are going…” Mrs. Kentner gave a smile and a wink.Okay, so Pete told her mother about the date. Ashley felt a moment of embarrassment, then pushed it away.“I’m so glad he came back home,” the older woman said. “He deserves something good. The way he took care of me with the cancer…” Moisture glistened in the woman’s eyes.Ashley patted her hand. Pete did deserve something good, but was she it? A sudden wave of doubt rushed her. What was she doing with Pete? But then she thought, they were just going to look at the dam. They’d been friends for a long time. It didn’t have to be m
Jack tried not to think of Ashley or their kiss as he walked back to the locker room at the east end of the high school the next day. The team was gathering for a morning huddle about an upcoming game. He wanted to get this over with before he headed off to Jersey. He called out the players he needed, gathering them in the hallway.“Is this about the bones?” Bobby Adamo asked, gripping a cup of coffee. “You guys took off. Nobody said we were supposed to wait around.”None of the four looked anything but cocky, feeling safe in numbers and on their home turf.Jack watched their eyes, looking for the weakest link. Probably Tyler Foster, the councilman’s son. He was the youngest, the one Jack had caught on Ashley’s land before. He’d scared the boy when he’d tackled him.“Actually, I’m here about a laptop you’re selling online.” Jack looked Bobby in the eye. “I wouldn’t mind seeing it.”The surprise on the teenager’s face was quickly masked. The others pulled closer to him.“I don’t know w
“That I can promise.” She tilted her head. “So if Blackwell is in Jersey, why aryou here instead of being there?”“I’ll drive over tomorrow.”“Why not let the FBI handle it? You could let it go. You’re alive. You won.”He didn’t want to talk about it. And then he did anyway. He’d never cared before if anyone thought him an obsessed lunatic. He shouldn’t now. But he did.“I had a sister. Six years older than me. She raised me, pretty much. Breast cancer took our mother in her twenties.”A dull pain throbbed to life in the middle of his chest. Then came the flood of guilt. “Our father was working the graveyard shift. I was a teenage brat, wanted pizza. We lived too far outside of town. The only pizza shop didn’t deliver that far out. I begged her into it. I stayed home and played video games. She drove out for the pizza. She always tried to make up for the fact that I had to grow up without a mother. I was a spoiled little shit, pretty much.”“Jack—”“Anyway, she never came bace k. The