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Lachlan watched her walk inside, locking the door behind her. She waved through the glass, then disappeared.
He looked over his shoulder once more, unable to shake the feeling that something wasn’t right with this case, but he couldn’t put his finger on it.
“How does a hot chocolate sound about now?” Bethenny asked with a childish smile.
He grinned. “Perfect. Where do you suggest we get one at this time of day? I don’t think the pub sells it,” he said, almost sure of it. Although it had been many years since he’d bought hot chocolate.
Her grin grew. “I have some at home,” she said with a laugh. “Hot chocolate is my kryptonite.”
He chuckled. “There are much worse vices, Bethenny,” he said, grinning all the way to the car.
They climbed in and turned on the ignition. The car purred to life and, as he drove away from the house, he released a breath he didn’t know he’d been holding, his unease melting away with every mile.
X
“The detectives just left my house. They were looking at the fence for a long time,” Louise said, speaking so quickly that her words ran into one another. Her voice was raspy, panicked.
“Louise, I told you I would take care of it,” he repeated—gently, but firmly. He needed to calm her down, or she was going to ruin everything.
“He hasn’t come home,” she said, her voice bordering on hysterical. “He hasn’t come home. Where is he?”
He exhaled a steadying breath. “Louise. I’m going to take care of this, I promise,” he said, deflecting the question. If he told her the truth, she might completely fall apart. He couldn’t let that happen, not now.
“Detective Taylor won’t be a problem. He doesn’t have an alibi, and the evidence points to him. Monroe will be taken care of—I’m heading to Redwater myself,” he said. He bit his tongue, holding back from reminding her this was all her fault. He was simply cleaning up her mess and using this opportunity to redeem himself.
He’d been waiting for an opportunity, never having been able to get close enough to Taylor to put a plan in place—but the call that had come from his late friend’s mother had changed everything.
That was the thing about grief: it made you do crazy things.
“You’re coming here? What are you going to do to her? Enough blood has been spilled... My gosh, I can’t... No, no more blood,” she said, sounding pained.
“Louise, it was an accident. An accident that got out of control. No one is to blame here... except Jessica. What she was doing was wrong, and if she hadn’t been doing that, she would never have gotten herself into trouble. You’re not to blame,” he lied, as reassuringly as he could.
“She was a nice girl. She just made bad choices. The detective—she’s very nice too. I don’t want her hurt, I won’t have it. This needs to stop,” she said, more forcefully.
He raised his eyebrows. “Louise, I don’t want to have to remind you what will happen to you or your son if the detective discovers the truth. She might be nice now, but she won’t be nice when she learns what happened.”
Louise’s breath became raspy. “I never wanted this...”
He rolled his eyes but kept playing nice over the telephone. “Of course you didn’t. You’re a good person—a good mother. You were protecting her. This is Jessica’s fault, not yours. I don’t want you to punish yourself. I will fix everything. I want you to take your medication and get some rest. Okay?”
Silence.
“Okay,” she finally said, sounding defeated.
“I’ll talk to you soon. You’ll feel better once you get some sleep,” he repeated, knowing it had been days since she’d slept properly.
“Call me as soon as you hear from him,” she said.
“Of course,” he lied, knowing neither of them would ever hear from her son again.
He ended the call and grabbed the bag he’d packed before Louise had called. He double-checked the contents and then zipped it closed as his phone rang again.
“Boss,” he answered.
“Is everything under control?” the man asked. Calm. Calculated.
“Yes. I’m heading to Redwater now to tie up the last loose thread,” he responded.
