Chapters (62)
- Cover
- Copyright Notice
- Dedication
- Chapter One
- Chapter Two
- Chapter Three
- Chapter Four
- Chapter Five
- Chapter Six
- Chapter Seven
- Chapter Eight
- Chapter Nine
- Chapter Ten
- Chapter Eleven
- Chapter Twelve
- Chapter Thirteen
- Chapter Fourteen
- Chapter Fifteen
- Chapter Sixteen
- Chapter Seventeen
- Chapter Eighteen
- Chapter Nineteen
- Chapter Twenty
- Chapter Twenty-one
- Chapter Twenty-two
- Chapter Twenty-three
- Chapter Twenty-four
- Chapter Twenty-five
- Chapter Twenty-six
- Chapter Twenty-seven
- Chapter Twenty-eight
- Chapter Twenty-nine
- Chapter Thirty
- Chapter Thirty-one
- Chapter Thirty-two
- Chapter Thirty-three
- Chapter Thirty-four
- Chapter Thirty-five
- Chapter Thirty-six
- Chapter Thirty-seven
- Chapter Thirty-eight
- Chapter Thirty-nine
- Chapter Forty
- Chapter Forty-one
- Chapter Forty-two
- Chapter Forty-three
- Chapter Forty-four
- Chapter Forty-five
- Chapter Forty-six
- Chapter Forty-seven
- Chapter Forty-eight
- Chapter Forty-nine
- Chapter Fifty
- Chapter Fifty-one
- Chapter Fifty-two
- Chapter Fifty-three
- Chapter Fifty-four
- Chapter Fifty-five
- Chapter Fifty-six
- Chapter Fifty-seven
- Acknowledgments [TK]
- Also by Wendy Walker
“Alice,” I tell her. “Do as I say now. It’s very important. But then go and get that key.”
She moves her head back and forth, no.
I reach through the bars and grab both of her arms.
“You will get the key and bring it to me. Do you know why?”
She shakes her head with Terror Face. No, no, no.
“Because,” I tell her. “He knows you helped me make the coffee.”
Chapter Forty-six
Day eighteen
Nic did not go home. She drove right into the heart of the storm, this new storm that was brewing in Hastings.
She got to the intersection of Route 7 and Hastings Pass, to the Gas n’ Go. Kurt’s car was in the parking lot. She drove across it and parked. He’d been working the night shift here, then was probably heading to the bar to open for lunch. That was what he’d told her before, about his schedule.
Now was better. Here was better. Customers would be coming in and out. They wouldn’t be alone for long.
Kurt was behind the counter, sitting on a stool, reading a magazine. He was surprised to see her, but he smiled warmly. Covering up his guilt.
Nic did not waste time with small talk. She took out her phone and pulled up the photo of him with Edith Moore.
“So what was your end game with Edith Bickman?”
“Shit . . .” Kurt mumbled, hanging his head. “Not here—they have cameras.”
Nic followed him to the back of the store, behind a row of shelves.
“This is the only spot they don’t cover,” he told her.
“Who is they?” Nic asked.
“The people who own this place. Some corporation. I don’t know. I just know where the cameras are because they have monitors up front.”
“So tell me now, away from the cameras.”
Nic waited as he thought about what to say. She could see him struggling for words.
“Okay. Look—it’s not what you think.”
“What do I think?” Nic asked.
“I didn’t know what she was doing, okay? When you came in here and told me about this witness and then told me her name—I mean, how many Ediths are there who could be connected to Hastings?”
“But she worked with you. At the bar.”
Kurt nodded. “She did. I knew her. I knew where she’d gone. So I went to find her, to ask her what the hell was going on. I didn’t want to get her in trouble. It’s not like she’s a criminal. And you were convinced she’d seen your mother. I wanted to find out why she was lying about her name and why she was here that night.”
Nic was frustrated now, all of the threads tangled together, and her mind too exhausted to sort them out.
“Just tell me everything. Please. You can start with your arrest for dealing drugs if you want.”