Page 119 of Weight of Guilt

Wren nodded. “I’m glad somebody’s coming.”

“So am I.” Paige let out a breath.

Nash put the lid back on the shoebox and stood.

At the door, Paige caught Wren’s hand. “They’re going to find him.”

Wren’s eyes filled, but she held Paige’s gaze.

“They have to.” Paige squeezed her hand once before letting go.

Chapter

Sixty

Wren had the receipts in her lap and the dome light on, and she’d been reading the same four lines of print for six miles.

She ran her thumb beneath the faded date again, as if it might change this time. “Roy’s alibi . . . it isn’t so much of an alibi anymore, is it?”

“No, it’s not.”

Wren clicked off the dome light. Darkness closed around the truck again, broken only by the headlights and the occasional reflector along the road.

“Faye said he’d been bringing her gas for six years.” She looked down at the receipt she could no longer see. “So whatever started these trips, it wasn’t her.”

“No.”

They passed the Route 9 Fuel Stop. The building was dark now except for a security light over the pumps.

Nash slowed and turned onto the road Roy had taken week after week.

Within half a mile, the pavement narrowed.

Wren watched the trees crowd closer on either side. A mailbox appeared ahead with a gravel drive disappearing behind it.

This was Faye’s place. It had to be.

She thought Nash might stop, but instead he kept driving.

Wren glanced at him. “You’re not stopping?”

“Luke already talked to her.” Nash switched on his high beams. “I want to know what else is out here.”

She could understand that.

She watched the road. There wasn’t much else out here.

A couple of trailers sat well back from the road. They passed a gated dirt track marked PRIVATE PROPERTY, then another road that disappeared into the trees.

Nash tried that one.

It dead-ended less than a mile in.

The next did the same.

By the fourth turnoff, Wren had stopped expecting to find anything.

Nash backed onto the main road again.