Page 131 of Not a Word

She had reached the rotting rowboat, resting one hand on the bow, its splintered wood surface rough on her palm.

“Who said to offer her money? Who followed her?”

His mother couldn’t look at him. Her eyes were on the pond.

“Was it you? Did you kill her?” he asked, and added, “I know you’ve got it in you.”

Catherine’s head stayed down. “Not me. But I’m responsible.”

“Who? Who did it?” He speculated. “The same man again?”

She nodded.

“So he’s moved on from cleaning up for you. He’ll kill for you too.” His tone derisive, accusatory.

Catherine struggled to raise her head, to regain some dignity. She looked up at Holden and said with some defiance, “Maybe she had it coming.”

Gage, only a few feet away, listened as Holden shook his head and said, “What are you saying?”

“She did it,” Catherine said. “Came here and shot that woman and your father too. She thought it was me she’d shot.”

Gage’s jaw dropped. “What?”

“I don’t . . . understand,” Holden said.

She looked imploringly at her son. “That night, he knew what you saw. He wanted to kill you then, but I talked him out of it. I won’t be able to do it a second time.”

Now she looked at Gage, her eyes tearing. “He won’t take any pity on you either.”

“There has to be something we can—”

Catherine cut Holden off before he could finish. “You need to leave. Go. Just go. Get away from here and go away as far as you can. Once he finds out what you know—”

Inside the house, they heard a door open and close.

Forty-Nine

Reece

“Mom? Holden? Gage?”

I had my key out, ready to use it to open the front door of my parents’ home, but it was already unlocked, so I let myself in without bothering to knock or ring the bell. Given how the last couple of days had gone, I was dispensing with niceties. I stepped in, held the door for Diana, and closed it once she was inside.

“Back here!”

Gage’s voice, and it sounded like it was a long ways away. We went through the house, slid back the screen door off the kitchen, and went out onto the deck. Diana nudged me, pointed to broken glass and a spilled drink.

Mom and Holden were standing down by the boat, but Gage came running.

He threw his arms around his mother first, then moved on to me.

“I’m sorry,” he said. “Holden said he needed me and—”

“It’s okay,” Diana said, patting his back while his arms were still around me. “We’re just glad you’re okay.”

He released me and looked at both of us, and now I could see the tears in his eyes. “Things are really bad,” he said. “Really, really bad.”

“What are you talk—”