“Call Penn, Tom. Nobody in the world will work harder to get you out of whatever trouble you’re in. Your son is your best hope. You know that.”

“He may be, Drew. But I can’t call him. Not this time.”

The young doctor’s face remained hard. “You could die. Right here in my lake house. What do I tell Peggy, if you do? What do I tell Penn?”

Tom looked over at Walt, then back up at Drew, his eyes suddenly wet. “If that happens … tell them I was protecting our family. They may not understand it right away. Penn might never understand. But that’s what you tell him. One day I think he’ll figure it out. Now … get going, before the cops show up and arrest you.”

Drew stared down at his mentor for a few moments longer; then he snapped his head up, walked to the door, and left his house without looking back.

Tom looked up at Walt, his eyes blurred with tears. “I’m tired, buddy. And I’m so sorry I got you into this.”

Walt sat beside Tom, then laid a hand on his forehead with the gentleness he’d always displayed as a combat medic.

“Get some rest, soldier. Tomorrow’s another day.”

CHAPTER 56

SIX BLOCKS FROM my house on Washington Street, ten blocks from the Natchez Examiner, and two hundred feet above the Mississippi River, I kiss my daughter’s sleeping face, then roll carefully out of the bed and move to the central staircase. This house, this unexpected sanctuary, is called Edelweiss. I bought the place two months ago as a surprise wedding present for Caitlin, and I’ve had contractors working practically around the clock to get it ready by the date of our wedding. Three stories high and covered with gingerbread, this authentic German chalet was built on the edge of the Natchez bluff in 1883. You can see fourteen miles of river from its wraparound gallery, and more from its third-floor windows. Rumors have swirled for weeks about the possible new owner: some wags say it’s a Hollywood actor who wants to remain anonymous; others claim the owner of one of the casino boats beneath the bluff bought it as a weekend retreat from Las Vegas. Had Viola not been murdered two days ago, the truth would have been revealed two Saturdays hence, when the horse and carriage leaving the gazebo on the bluff carried Caitlin and me only a hundred yards to the steps of our new home. Now it’s become a safe house in the middle of a town where almost every citizen knows my face.