Chapters (43)
- Dedication
- Epigraph
- Part 1Grey Lady
- Chapter 1
- Chapter 2
- Chapter 3
- Chapter 4
- Chapter 5
- Chapter 6
- Chapter 7
- Chapter 8
- Chapter 9
- Chapter 10
- Chapter 11
- Chapter 12
- Chapter 13
- Chapter 14
- Chapter 15
- Chapter 16
- Chapter 17
- Chapter 18
- Chapter 19
- Chapter 20
- Chapter 21
- Part 2Black Water
- Chapter 22
- Chapter 23
- Chapter 24
- Chapter 25
- Chapter 26
- Chapter 27
- Chapter 28
- Chapter 29
- Chapter 30
- Chapter 31
- Chapter 32
- Chapter 33
- Chapter 34
- Chapter 35
- About the Author
- Also by Peter Swanson
- Copyright
- About the Publisher
“No, it was too dark and he definitely didn’t want to be seen. A car went by and he’d crouch so the headlights wouldn’t reach him through the trees.”
Caitlin looked up at the cheap blinds in the window. They were pulled closed, but not tightly closed. There were some gaps between the plastic strips. Whoever had been watching might have been able to see her, and at the very least could see movement in the room.
“Who do you think—”
“It was whoever killed your sister, and probably my father. I don’t know who it is, but you need to leave. I don’t think you’re safe.”
“How did you get hurt?”
“Oh,” he said, removing the towel from the side of his head, and looking at the dark stain. “I chased him. He must have seen me behind the truck because he was suddenly leaving, heading around to the back of the motel, and I shouted ‘Hey’ and was running between parked cars, and came down funny on my ankle, and then I was on the pavement. And my head . . .”
“What did you hit?”
“A car, I guess. I don’t remember. Then I came to you.”
“You were very brave.”
Harry laughed, then grimaced. “I tripped and fell.”
“What were you going to do if you caught him?”
“I don’t know. See who he was.”
“Did you get a better look at him when he took off?”
“Not really, but he looked funny when he was running. He was flapping, like he was trying to take off or something.”
“Flapping?”
The window suddenly filled with intermittent red light. “The ambulance is here,” Caitlin said, and opened up the door. She stood as the two EMTs entered the room, one dropping to his knees to take a look at Harry.
“I think he has a concussion,” she said. “He fell and hit himself on the head.”
The crouching EMT was already asking questions. She heard him ask Harry if he knew what year it was, but couldn’t hear Harry’s answer.
“What did he hit?” The slightly doughy EMT who was talking with Caitlin smelled like Bazooka chewing gum.
“I don’t know. He thinks it was a car. He came here to see me, and he said there was someone lurking in the woods, or over by the trees, and he started to chase him and that’s when he fell.”
“Uh-huh. Did you see this person?”
“I didn’t. He did.”