If only I’d said no. If only I’d gone into the house and told Indie’s mother. If only I’d told Keith to go away.

“Molly?” Corrine calls through the door. “Would you like a cup of tea?”

I sit up, wipe the tears from my cheeks. I’ve got to end this. I’ve got to pull myself together. “Sure. I’ll be out in a minute.” I walk over to the window and look down on the street below. A couple of news vans are parked at the curb, but no one is standing outside. It’s too cold, too gray. A woman carrying shopping bags walks by. She ducks her head, and the wind whips her scarf behind her like a flag.

I can’t go out the front of the building or they might see me. But the back entrance, where Corrine takes the trash down, that might be clear. I smooth my hair back, eye my overnight bag. I’ll drink my tea, reassure Corrine that I’m okay. Then later, when they’re asleep, Sadie and I will slip away.

CHAPTER 44 - Rita

CHAPTER 44

Rita

AS DUSK EDGES OUT THE WINTER LIGHT, WE WRAP UP FOR THE DAY. Chase has left for home, and Agent Metz has gone to meet up with friends, so Joe and I head across the street to Mac’s. The lights are comfortably low, and no cops are sitting at the bar. We take a seat in a booth in the corner. Joe slips out of his leather jacket and tosses it beside him.

The case we’d worked on together was only a few years ago, and while at first Joe and I had stayed in touch, that contact diminished over the last couple of years. We both got busy, but I remember the case clearly. A man had killed his wife in Maine and fled to Graybridge, where his grandmother lived. He’d left a trail of crimes in his wake, and Joe came in to help us. We got the collar, and Joe and I celebrated at Mac’s with a couple bottles of chardonnay.

Our server comes over and drops menus on the table, takes our drink order.

I search my mind for small talk, which isn’t my specialty. “You still running?”