Page 42 of Darkwater Lane

I don’t add that I don’t have any other choice.

She’ll see through the false bravado—she knows me too well. But she also knows that pressing me on it won’t work.

Kez

We’re here when you need us.

Gwen

Get some rest. I’ll call in the morning once I know more.

She sends a thumbs-up emoji in response, followed by a heart. I lean my head on the back of the bench and stare up at the night sky. There’s way too much light pollution to see any stars, and I feel an ache of nostalgia for the nights I used to spend out on my porch at Stillhouse Lake. Despite everything that happened while I lived there, I still miss it.

Stillhouse Lake was the first place I felt truly safe after discovering Melvin’s crimes. Of course, in the end that sense of safety was an illusion, but it was enough to give me hope for the future. That I could stop running and build something meaningful.

For the last several months I’ve been trying to do more than just hope for the future. I’ve been actively trying to move past Melvin. Once I promised Lanny and my family that we’d no longer let fear dictate our lives, I realized just how much ofmylife was dedicated to that fear. The amount of time I spent calculating risks and odds and preparing for the worst.

It’s been a hard habit to break. Being vigilant has become such a core part of my identity that I’m struggling to move beyond it. And of course now I’m being dragged back into the thick of it all over again.

I press my fist against my chest, trying to ease the fluttering ache of anxiety I feel in my heart. It’s such a familiar feeling, the constant drip of adrenaline through my system. The sense that at any minute my life will spin out of control. That it maybe already has.

I hear footsteps nearing and lift my head, glancing down the walkway. I realize with a start that I recognize the approaching figure. It’s Madison, her clothes are more casual now—jeans and a fitted T-shirt—but her hair is still pulled tight into that perfect, polished blond ponytail.

I stiffen, my arm shifting in search of the familiar comfort of my shoulder holster. Except it isn’t there. I removed it and my gun when I got to the police station. They tend to frown on visitors carrying firearms.

I stand, shifting into a defensive stance. “What are you doing here?” My voice is sharp, cold.

She startles, spinning to face me. Her eyes are wide with terror, and I realize she had no idea I was sitting here. I marvel at her lack of situational awareness. What would it be like to walk through the world without constantly assessing your surroundings? Especially a young woman walking alone at night.

I imagine if it had been Lanny in Madison’s place, she would have clocked me instantly.

As soon as she realizes it’s me, Madison blows out a breath and presses a trembling hand over her heart. “You scared the shit out of me.”

“You should pay better attention to your surroundings.”

She winces slightly, chagrined. “You’re angry with me.”

I don’t take the bait. How I feel about her doesn’t matter. “Why are you here?”

“I got a call from a detective asking me to verify that I was with you earlier this evening. They wanted me to come down and give a formal statement. I was going to wait until morning, but I couldn’t sleep so…”

I’m not buying it. No one heads to the police station in the middle of the night out of boredom or because they don’t have anything better to do. “Let me guess, you figured I would likely be here as well given Sam’s arrest.”

Her cheeks flush, and she ducks her chin slightly, her expression evidencing her guilt. I wonder if she realizes what a terrible liar she is.

“I’m not the enemy, Gwen,” she says. She’s telling the truth. Or at least she thinks she is. “Believe it or not, I’m not out to get you.I’m not here to ambush you, I’m here to help you. A man was murdered in your house, and you’re a suspect. I’m your alibi. I’m the reason you’renotgoing to get in trouble. If I really wanted to mess up your life, I wouldn’t be here right now.” There’s an edge of exasperation to her voice.

“It’s a little convenient, though, isn’t it? That you set up a meeting that lured me away from home right when the murder occurred?”

She seems surprised by my accusation. “That’s what you think? That I had something to do with the murder? I don’t even know who was killed.”

“Leo Varrus.”

I watch her carefully to see how she responds. The cops haven’t released Leo’s name to the public yet, which means the only way Madison could know that he was the victim is if she were somehow involved.

Her eyes widen with shock, and her lips part on a sharp intake of air. “What?” The word is little more than breath. “Leo? How?” She stumbles back a step and then sits, pressing a trembling hand over her mouth. “Oh, God.”

Her reaction seems genuine. Still, my natural paranoia stops me from believing her completely.

---