He’s wearing makeup already. This is going to be one of those “live from the scene” type stories. This was big. In the past when there was some interest in something happening here, they’d have one of the kids from the high school shoot the video and then—at their own expense—drive it to Seattle. Now just about everyone with a smartphone is doing the same thing.

Before I answer, the camerawoman chimes in.

“She’s Millie Carpenter, Jake. God, you are embarrassing.”

He turns red under his makeup. I don’t correct her because I like the results of her mistake.

“I’m afraid we’ve no comment about this case. It’s an ongoing investigation. We’ll update what we can when we can.”

“Was the killing related to a particular belief system?” He points to the orchard. “Wheaton buried in a shroud.”

“In the ground,” adds the dimwit with the handheld.

“Look, you’re going to need to leave now. This is private property.”

“Ms. Chesterfield said we could be here.”

Of course, she did.

I show my badge. “I outrank her.” I look over my shoulder at Sheriff. “And he outranks all of us. Please go.”

I hear him say something about just doing his job, and she chirps as they turn to pack up: “Does that mean we’re not going to that restaurant?”

Everyone is inside the house now, except for Ruth’s daughter.

“Hi,” I say.

Eve gives me a weak smile.

“Can I sit?”

She indicates the place next to her.

“I guess you heard me complaining about Sarah.”

“I didn’t take it as complaining, just disappointment.”

“Right?” she remarks. “When you’re raised like an inmate, you want a real connection with anyone outside of your home. When we were little Sarah was mine. My lifeline.”

“I’m sure she feels the same way.”

“Maybe. Maybe she does.”

“It’s a very hard day for all of you,” I tell her, patting her knee.

“Yeah. That’s the truth.”

Ruth says she’ll see me before she leaves the next day. I give Bernie a look, a glare really. The others I hug and tell them that our duty to find out who killed their mother is an extension of their love for her.

“Find her killer,” Ruth whispers, as she pulls her niece and nephew close to her. “Find Merritt.” Joshua’s eyes widen. Sarah inches slightly to the fan that had been used to pull the scent of her mother’s remains.

Just how much wintergreen can a person breathe and still survive?

Twenty-Eight

“They keep coming, Amy,” Regina says cuddling in bed with her wife.

“You keep us safe.”

“You really think so?”

“Yes, babe, I do.”

Even after the fight. The really bad one.

Even then.

Even now.

Regina looks at the ceiling and Amy’s hand rests on her shoulder.

“I never should have tried to stop you, Amy.”