“We found Megan Travers’s remains. Rebecca actually stumbled on her—Julia didn’t even bother burying her—well, maybe she couldn’t, the ground being so hard. They left her body to freeze, buried in the snow. Sophia says the murder was Julia’s doing, with the help of Gus Jardine. He’s claiming innocence, of course. Sophia claimed that Julia had sworn she’d kidnapped Megan and was going to hold her captive in that cabin, but there was a fight, and Megan tried to escape, so she had to be killed. Julia didn’t tell Sophia and then decided to imprison Sophia when she wasn’t going along with the scheme.”

“To fleece me.”

“To marry you, fleece you, and, in my opinion, to ultimately kill you.” Rivers pinned James in his glare. “Both of them.”

James closed his eyes for a second.

He thought of the baby that had never existed and about the fact that he had been foolish enough to have been duped by them all. How his life had changed for a few weeks at the thought of becoming a father.

He thought of Rebecca again, and his heart squeezed.

Rivers stood. “By the way, we’ve still got your gun, but we’ll need to hold onto it as evidence for a while.”

“Keep it,” James said. He wanted no reminders.

The cop’s eyes seemed to glisten as he placed his hat on his head. “You sure?”

“Yeah.” He was sure. “It’s the department’s. Or yours, if you want it.”

Rivers actually cracked a smile. “Thanks.” As he left, Rivers said, “A word of advice, Cahill.”

“Yeah?”

“Lay off the women, okay? They’re just too damned dangerous.”

EPILOGUE

EPILOGUE

The next February
Riggs Crossing, Washington

James adjusted his tool belt over his hips and was about to climb up onto a trailer, where a tiny house was being built to look sleek and modern, with Scandinavian elements.

“Uh-oh.” Bobby Knowlton, picking a bit of cat hair from his sleeve, was approaching from the rear of the building and was peering through the open barn door. He glanced down the lane. “Incoming.”

Glancing over his shoulder, James spied a white Subaru fast approaching, splashing through puddles in the gravel.

Rebecca.

Despite the cop’s advice, James had called her and texted several times.

She’d never responded.

Not once.

But here she was, and his pulse jumped, his heart racing.

As her Subaru stopped and she cut the engine, he felt every muscle in his back tighten.

“I’ll be a minute,” he said to Bobby.

Bareheaded, in jeans, a sweater, and a long coat, she waited at the side of her car.

“Don’t tell me,” he said, forcing a smile as he approached. “You missed me.”