After he’d left, I took my chances and explored the entryway. My footsteps echoed. The walls were blank. Paintings or portraits had been removed. There was subtle shading in the paint where the frames had been, and a few hooks remained in the drywall. Maybe I’d gotten it right the first time, and Jewett was preparing to vacate.

As I turned from the wall, I was startled to find myself face-to-face with an ancient woman. She wore a flannel bathrobe with dried food down the front, and underneath, she was as thin as a bundle of sticks. She had limp hair, a bent spine, and the same gray complexion as Jewett. Her brown eyes were wide with fear.

“Tom?”

“No, ma’am. My name is Mike.” I made a guess. “Are you Mrs. Jewett? Bruce’s mother?”

There was not the faintest flicker of understanding.

“Tom, you need to help me. I’m being held prisoner by a strange man.” She pressed her veined hands against my chest and clutched the fabric as if she feared it being torn loose. “Quick, before he finds us. We have to escape.”

Very carefully, I folded her frail, trembling hands in mine. I wanted my touch to be reassuring. She was so scared.

“No one is going to hurt you, Mrs. Jewett.”

A tear ran down her wrinkled cheek. “But he is hurting me.”

I had seen enough cases of elder abuse not to shrug this off. “Are you talking about your son? How is Bruce is hurting you?”

“He’s poisoning me.”

“Poisoning?”

“It doesn’t taste right. Shhh! He’s coming.”

Jewett appeared in the hall with an expression that mixed exasperation with embarrassment. “Mama! I told you not to leave your room.”

She clutched my sweater again. “Please, Tom.”

“She thinks you’re poisoning her.” I wanted to see how her son reacted.

“It’s medicine for fuck’s sake! Cholinesterase inhibitors. Mama, you know I’m not poisoning you. Let’s get you back to your room.”

He took her upper arm, but with more gentleness than I might have expected from his raised voice.

Could there be anything more sorrowful, I wondered, than a mother not recognizing her own son?

Yes, there was. Seeing him as her mortal enemy.

Just when I was feeling sorry for Jewett, thinking I’d been too hard in my judgment, he turned to me and hissed, “If you leave this room while I’m putting her away, I swear to Christ I’ll shoot you in the face.”

15

Not until I’ve crawled under a fallen log and taken shelter behind the stump of what must have been a massive pine do I notice the trail in the snow. It looks black in the half-light. But it’s just a trick of the shadows. Everyone knows blood is red.

I’m hit.

It can’t be true. I never felt a thing.