Page 24 of Trust No One

Beyond the house, a freshly cut patch of grass tunneled toward the cemetery’s wrought iron fence. Inside were the graves of Hales who’d lived on this land for two centuries. My father had had the fence expanded twenty-five years ago. He’d said he’d wanted more room for himself, Mom, me, and my children.

I’d watched the contractors lift the old fence and extend it out twenty feet. After they’d gone, I’d lain down in the spot Dad had selected as my final resting place. Light had filtered through the oak branches. I didn’t love it. Too shady in the summer meant too many leaves in the fall.

Two years later, my father dropped his and Mom’s massive headstones in place.

Three years later he was dead.

After that, I’d decided I’d be cremated. My ashes spread so the wind would carry them away.

I studied Hale House. Fragile, beautiful, brittle, so drafty. This winter’s heating bill would be brutal.

My contractor, Brad Lawson, was coming tomorrow. Anybody’s guess how it would go. Getting a bid from him was my way of showing due diligence. Not a promise to save anything.

I sat on the top step after climbing the stairs. Bronzes and yellows burnished the mountains’ ridgeline.

This had become my favorite spot. Sunsets were my way of notching off another day I’d survived.

The sun remained vivid. The land endured, as my dad used to say.

But the house—like the family—was crumbling. Resurrecting Hale House was a commitment I didn’t want.

I dialed Edith’s number.

It rang three times before a breathless “Raine” drifted over the line.

“Edith, how are you doing?” We hadn’t spoken directly in years. I used work and marriage to justify my absence.

“Holding up.” Edith’s voice was clipped. “How is Maria?”

“She was stable when I left the hospital. Have you spoken to Gabe?”

“No. I’ve called him a dozen times. He’s holed up in one of his funks.”

Gabe’s sullen stares had been sexy and attractive when we were teenagers. But moody pouts didn’t age well.

“Judson is looking for him,” she added. “I told him the truth: I don’t know where Gabe is.”

“He was at the hospital this morning.”

“Judson thinks Gabe hurt Maria.”

I hoped that wasn’t true. “Remember how I used to talk him down?” He’d get angry, frustrated, and take off. And when I’d find him behind the school or in the woods, I’d coax him back.

She sighed. “The Super 8 on Route 60 has been his spot lately.”

“Did you tell that to Judson?”

“No. I want Gabe to come home on his own.”

I checked my watch. “He’s been missing a few hours?”

“You remember how he could vanish for days at a time.”

“It doesn’t look good, Edith.” I’d had clients go MIA on me. My talent for delivering compelling excuses to the judges was legendary.

“He’ll show up,” Edith said.

Tipping my head back, I closed my eyes. “How’s Molly doing?”