Page 84 of Darkwater Lane

“But we’re going to fight like hell, just like we always do,” I assure her.

She gives me a whisper of a smile and nods. Then, she disappears into the barn.

I stay outside, tucking my hands under my arms against the cold. The afternoon sky is fading, the shadows across the valley shifting and lengthening. I mentally run through our every move since coming to Stillhouse Lake. All the days Sam was up early and home late. I hate that this is where my thoughts lead me,wondering if it’s possible that one of those days he could have snuck down to Knoxville.

And what? Planted what amounts to a bomb in our old rental? Then left Melvin’s body there as evidence?

It’s beyond preposterous.

So, why did I hesitate earlier when Lanny asked about Sam? Why does my stomach twist anytime more information about the various crimes comes to light? Why does it feel like I’m walking around, waiting for a bomb to drop?

Because someone is setting Sam up.

But what if they’re not? What if it’s really him?

I’d be an idiot not to consider the possibility. Only someone who lacks conviction in the strength of their own argument refuses to hear the opposition.

It’s not just the flights that match up to the Sicko Patrol murders, it’s the secrecy. He planned to meet with Leo and didn’t tell me. He lied to me about that. What else might he have lied about?

What will you do if it is him?

That’s the question that truly terrifies me, because I don’t know.

What I do know is that it’s time Sam and I talked and laid our cards on the table.

23

GWEN

That night, I wait until the kids are in their rooms after dinner, then suggest to Sam that we take a walk. Despite the fact that it’s winter and dark outside, he doesn’t protest. He knows me well enough to recognize that I have something important on my mind—something I don’t want the kids to overhear.

We grab our coats, and Sam follows me out the door. We walk in silence down the driveway to the lake. It’s not far to the road, and beyond it, the small gravel parking lot and the rickety old dock.

The same one Rowan stood on this morning. Though that’s also something I haven’t mentioned to Sam yet. There are so many secrets still between us. I’m hoping to put an end to that tonight.

I stop at the edge of the dock, staring down its length to the lake beyond. The water stretches out and around us like liquid darkness. “They found shards of Melvin’s bones in the other Sicko Patrol victims,” I tell him.

He nods slowly, taking the information in. “That means there’s a serial killer out there.”

I turn and face him, crossing my arms. “They found a bone in Leo Varrus’s throat as well.”

This time, his eyes go wide. He places his hands on his head and begins to pace.

“It ties his death to the others. And since you’re their lead suspect for Leo’s murder…”

I don’t have to finish the statement. He understands the implications.

“They think I’m a serial killer.”

“It’s worse than that,” I tell him.

He lets out a bark of a laugh. “Worse?”

“You don’t have alibis for the dates of the sickos’ murders.” I study his reaction, trying to discern whether his surprise is genuine.

How has it come to this? That I could consider my partner capable of something like this.

Easy, a small voice whispers.It’s happened before.You’ve been blindsided by those closest to you in the past.

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