But it was still the end of a pretty crummy one for Rachel, and she ended up crying herself to sleep for the first time since the night her mother told her what had happened in the living room while her father was up in Scotland.

Monday.

The morning hadn’t brought the clarity her uncle had hoped for.

It had started with a couple of calls from John that she didn’t answer. She finally picked up the third to hear him sounding lonely and forlorn. He told her that he wasn’t flying back until the next day in case she changed her mind about ringing in the New Year together. She softly reiterated her need for a break but promised him they would talk more when she returned to New York.

She called the Maida Vale house to check on her father, but ended up finding him at the Yard. He told her he was still trying to get a line on Ferguson and tying up those “dangling threads.” But Rachel wouldn’t have been shocked if he were combing the system (while he still had access) for lists of sexual assault offenders and victims around the time her mother had fended off her attacker.

Everett agreed with her suspicion when she told him. “I wouldn’t expect anything less. Did he mention joining us tomorrow?”

“He said it was up to me,” answered Rachel. “Whatever I wanted.”

“I’m sure the two of you will figure it out.”

Rachel looked out the window of the Swiss Air Flight bound for Geneva. She could just make out the top of the Alps a few hundred miles away.

He pushed a button and leaned back for a cat nap in his aisle seat.

She’d decided that morning with Everett to stick with the Zermatt New Year’s Eve plan. The idea of staying in London seemed like a recipe for disaster.

As for figuring out what she wanted—she didn’t have a clue.

Chapter 31

31

Tuesday.

New Year’s Eve. His final day at Scotland Yard.

Not only was it the end of a thirty-four-year career, but the last day of as tumultuous a year as he could recall. Grant wasn’t even thinking about what the New Year might bring; he couldn’t rid himself of the current one fast enough.

Stebbins had told him after his farewell gathering there was no reason for Grant to work the last few days. The Commandment Killings were over, and it wasn’t like anyone at the Yard would object to him getting a jump on his new life.

“What are they going to do if you don’t show up?” Stebbins had asked with a grin. “Suspend you?”