“I doubt it. He was all in on her quest to have a baby. What a mess.”

Dr. Collier said her report was in Montrose’s email.

“Just wanted you to know,” she said.

I thanked her and found a place to sit down. I hadn’t expected it, but I felt sorry for Kristen. She was sick. She wanted something that she could never attain, and she clearly snapped.

Adam was another story.

I had a long week off pending a review of the shooting. Millicent and I got caught up on Netflix, and, in the surprise of my life, Dan Belding Jr. asked me out for a date. Bigger surprise, I said yes. He’s decent, and decent has been in short supply in my life as of late.

When I was growing up in that little house in Shelton, I didn’t dream of being a cat lady.

Like Kristen Moss, I wanted to get married and have a family.

Probably not as much as she did, though.

Two weeks after Adam’s arrest, a young woman followed her dog into a ravine off a remote logging road near Hurricane Ridge on the Olympic Peninsula. The red of Jim Coyle’s much-sought-after pickup truck caught her attention, and she dialed 911. It was true. Coyle hadn’t killed anyone but himself. I thought of his request about his dog during his call to me. Sad relief washed over me when I checked with Animal Control. A young couple from Union had adopted AJ, his beloved Pomeranian.

The dog that unremittingly yapped had the only happy ending.

At least as far as I could tell.

CONNOR

You’d think that a confession and supporting evidence would get a guy out of prison in short order, but the wheels of justice move slowly even when the right thing to do is so obvious. My lawyer tells me that I should be out of here in a couple of months. Undoing a guilty plea isn’t easy.

A paternity test confirmed what I already knew deep down when I first saw her: Aubrey is my daughter. Aubrey’s grandparents have her now. Frank and Helen seem nice enough and have been here to see me twice. My lawyer has already put in the paperwork to fix the custody issues that will undoubtedly come up when I’m released. So far, I get the vibe that the Flynns won’t fight me. They don’t seem like the controlling type. In fact, as I sit in the visitation room, my heart flutters a little. This is all so new. Helen, dressed like she’s headed to a garden party, looks nervous, and Frank’s giving me a smile as the corrections officer gives them one last bit of instructions. And Aubrey? She comes at me now as a familiar face, with a smile that would melt anyone’s heart.

One day she’ll call me Daddy.