She stood fifty feet away from the ceremony, beside one of the larger marble headstones on the wooded slope. Finn didn’t have a big crowd. Rikke was there, ramrod straight, her face a severe mask. Everyone kept their distance from her. Serena didn’t recognize the dozen or so strangers, but she saw Jonny, Maggie, and Tish standing in a trio. She knew she should be at Jonny’s side, but she had never met Finn or Rikke and didn’t want to intrude on anyone’s grief. The truth was that it gave her a convenient excuse to be far away. She liked cemeteries but hated funerals. She didn’t mind death but hated dying. If something had to end, she simply wanted it to be over.

Serena heard footsteps behind her and was surprised to see Peter Stanhope. The lawyer’s mane of silver hair barely moved in the wind. His lip showed a reddened scar.

“I didn’t expect to see you here,” Serena told him.

Peter stood beside her and made no effort to get any closer to the funeral. “I suppose I feel responsible.”

“Why?”

“Because I sent you off to expose Finn’s secrets, and now he’s dead.”

“Don’t blame yourself,” Serena told him. “Finn’s probably better off this way.”

“That’s true.”

Serena turned and met his eyes with her own. “That doesn’t mean you walk away with a clean conscience, Peter. There’s still Laura and what you did to her.”

“You mean the stalking? I already told you that I was a crass, stupid kid.”

“Don’t make it sound like you were a boy stealing gum from a drugstore. You tried to rape that girl.”

Peter rubbed the scar on his lip. “So that’s it? You’ve decided I’m a monster?”

“I don’t know what you are.”

“And that means you can’t work with me?” he asked. “You’re turning down the job because of a mistake I made as a teenager?”

Serena looked up at the profiles of the trees, which were like spiny bottlebrushes. She heard the murmur of solemn voices near the grave. “I’m sorry. It doesn’t matter if it was yesterday or 1977. The answer is no. Keep your job, Peter. I don’t want it.”

“You’re walking away from a lot of money.”

“It’s not about the money,” Serena said.

“I thought you were different. I expected better from you.”

Serena shrugged. “Well, don’t let me spoil your moment.”

“What do you mean?”

“This is your independence day,” Serena said. “With Finn dead, Laura’s case dies with him.”

Peter nodded. “Okay, yes, it worked out fine for me, but I’m not getting a free ride. I didn’t kill anyone.”

“No?” Her voice betrayed her suspicion.

“You sound as paranoid as Tish,” Peter said.

“Your own father didn’t believe you,” Serena told him.

Peter’s eyes turned black. “He was never my biggest fan. I told Randall I didn’t kill her, but he knew what happened between me and Laura in the softball field. I suppose he figured I was a liar. Or maybe it was all about protecting the Stanhope name. Anyway, it doesn’t matter. The easiest thing for Stride and Pat Burns and everyone else in Duluth is to believe that Finn swung that bat. Just like it was the easy thing back in 1977 to assume that Dada killed her. We believe whatever makes us feel safe.”