Alex looked at the letter. “‘I’ve had many regrets in my life,’” he said, reading from it. “‘And I’ve lived with them all. But Milton’s death was my fault alone. I did what I had to do. To punish those who needed to be. But I will never be able to punish myself enough. At least John Carr is finally dead. And good riddance.’” He looked up. “Sounds like a man who did what he believed needed to be done.”

“He asked us to tell Reuben and Caleb.”

“I’ll do it.”

“They deserved it, you know. From all that Finn told us that happened that night.”

“Nothing gives someone the right to murder someone, Annabelle,” he said firmly. “That’s vigilantism. That’s wrong.”

“Under any circumstances?”

“One exception destroys that rule for good.”

“So you say.”

“Burn the letter, Annabelle,” Alex said suddenly.

“What?”

“Burn it now, before I change my mind.”

“Why?”

“It’s not a confession but it’s still evidence. And I can’t believe I’m saying this. Burn it. Now!”

She grabbed a match, lit the paper and tossed it into the fireplace. They watched the letter curl and blacken.

“Oliver saved my life, more than once,” he said. “He was the most decent, reliable person I’ve ever met.”

“I wish he’d stayed to talk to us.”

“I’m glad he didn’t.”

“Why?” Annabelle said brusquely.

“Because I might have had to arrest him.”

“You’re kidding. You just said he was the most decent person you’d ever met.”

“I’m a lawman, Annabelle. I swore an oath, friend or not.”

“But you knew he killed people before. And you didn’t seem to have a problem with it then.”

“Right, but he did that on orders from the U.S. government.”

“So that makes it okay in your eyes? Because some politician said it was?”

“Oliver was a soldier. He was trained to follow orders.”

“But even he felt guilt for that. Because some of the people he was ‘ordered’ to kill were innocent. You saw how that crushed him.”

“I respect his morals. But that wasn’t his call.”

Annabelle rose and looked down at him.

“So he kills two people who did deserve it, but because he didn’t have ‘government authorization’ you’re suddenly prepared to arrest him?”

“It’s not that simple, Annabelle.”

She flicked her long hair out of her face. “Sure it is,” she snapped.

“Look—”

She walked over to the door and opened it. “Let’s call it a night before we say something we’ll regret. Or at least I do. Besides, I have to pack.”

“Where are you going to go?”

“I’ll let you know,” she said in a tone that left much doubt whether she meant it.

Alex started to say something but instead rose and walked out, his features clouded and his lips set in an uncompromising line.