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"I mean, I would, but…"

"Thanks. I'm really glad about Emily."

He gave a stiff nod.

She had the sense he wanted to say more because he hesitated, but then he moved toward the door. As soon as he got there, however, he turned back to her. "I got something to tell you." He walked to her cell. "I did a couple of things I'm not proud of."

She listened as he told her that he was responsible for the burning cross, the slashed tires and graffiti on the front of the house, her stolen wallet. "I always liked Dwayne, and I liked the job I had at the Temple. It was the best work I ever had, and nothing's gone right for me since then." Once again, he reached for his cigarettes. "I worked for Bonner for a couple of weeks out at the drive-in, but he let me go. Then you showed up here, and when he hired you, a lot of stuff came together in my head that made me start resenting you. I guess I kind of thought that maybe I still owed something to Dwayne, too. But for whatever reasons, what I did wasn't right." He finally lit the cigarette, drawing the smoke deeply into his lungs.

"Are you the one who destroyed the drive-in?"

"No." He shook his head emphatically. "No. I don't know who did that."

"Why have you told me all this?"

He shrugged. "Lisa and Fran don't think too much of me anymore. But I still love my little girl, and I know I owe you."

She tried to take it in. If he'd made his confession at any other time, she'd be furious, but right now she didn't have energy to spare on Russ Scudder.

"All right. You've told me."

He didn't seem to expect any words of forgiveness, and she didn't utter them.

Later, as she sat in the dark on the small metal cot with her knees drawn up in front of her, she gave in to despair. Despite her tarnished reputation, despite all the evidence, Gabe had to believe her.

He had to.

The digital clock next to his bed read 4:28. Cal looked across the pillow at Jane curled up against him and knew that guilt had awakened him, along with worry about Gabe. Where was he?

Right after they'd tucked the children into bed, Cal had driven up to the cottage, even checked his parents' house in town, but he couldn't find any sign of his brother.

Cal still hadn't told Jane he was the one who'd pressed charges against Rachel. He'd kept finding excuses to postpone it, mainly because he hated her to be unhappy. Then they'd started to make love, and afterward they'd both drifted off. Still, keeping this from her wasn't right, and he resigned himself to breaking the news as soon as she woke up. No more excuses. No more postponements. He'd simply have to make her understand.

It wouldn't be easy. Jane didn't have any family, so she couldn't fully comprehend the bond he shared with his brothers. And she hadn't known Gabe long enough to realize what a soft touch he was. But Cal knew. And he'd guarded his brother as zealously as he guarded everyone he loved.

He thought of Rachel all alone in her jail cell and wondered if she was awake, too, worrying about her little boy.

Why hadn't she considered that little boy before she'd struck out against Gabe?

He wanted to believe that she'd acted impulsively, without considering the effect her cruelty would have on a man who had finally been able to start a new life, but that didn't excuse her. She was one of those self-focused people who couldn't see any farther than her own needs and frustrations, and now she had to suffer the consequences. Satisfied that he was doing the right thing, Cal finally drifted off.

An hour later, he was jarred awake by the sound of door chimes, along with a furious pounding. Jane bolted upright next to him. "What's that?"

"Stay here." Cal was already out of bed. Grabbing a robe to cover his nakedness, he thrust his arms in the sleeves as he rushed out of the bedroom and down the stairs. When he reached the front door, he looked through the peephole. Relief rushed through him as he saw Gabe on the other side.

He threw open the door. "Where the hell have you been?"

Gabe looked terrible, red-eyed and exhausted, with stubble covering his jaw. "I can't find Rachel."

Cal stepped back to let him in. "You have a key. Why didn't you let yourself in?"

"I forgot. And I needed to talk to you." He shoved his hand through his hair. "Have you seen Rachel? She was supposed to be staying at Kristy's condo, but nobody was there. I drove to the cottage. It's empty. Jesus, Cal, I can't find her anywhere. I'm afraid she's taken off."

"Cal, what's going on?"

Both of them looked up to see Jane coming down the stairs. She'd pulled on her pink nightshirt with a picture of Tinker Bell on the front. The fact that one of the most brilliant female physicists in the world had a fondness for cartoon nightwear usually made Cal smile, but not now. He wanted to keep her out of this.

Cal's uneasiness grew as Gabe rushed to the bottom of the stairs. His brother had always been a man who moved slowly—an easy walk, contained gestures. Now his movements were frantic. "I can't find Rachel. Like a fool, I walked out on her at the drive-in, and I haven't seen her since."

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