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In the moonlight, the material proved to be shiny enough that Lucas finally recognized what he was looking at.
Back when he was Hamlet’s sole doctor, he also acted the part of the medical examiner for the small villageandits coroner. He knew a black body bag when he saw it.
From the obvious weight of it and its size, he had a very educated guess about who could possibly be inside of it.
But he didn’t ask, though. And, shielding Tessa’s gaze from the sight, he watched stoically as Kade and Rick carried the body bag to the edge of the gulley. On the count of three, they maneuvered it so they could drop it inside, joining Mason Walsh’s body in the depths of the dark hole.
“Gulley’s deep,” Rick said again.
“Gulley’s deep,” said Lucas as the deputies walked back to the cruiser without another word.
And that, it seemed, was that.
EPILOGUE
THREE WEEKS LATER
The HSD cruiser crunched over the rocks and gravel and overgrown path that would lead out of Hamlet.
It was closing in on the end of October, and without Phil Granger spending some of his retirement tending to the road leading toward the village like he always had—and, on Sly’s orders, wouldn’t again for some time—it was starting to resemble the far side of the gulley. The massive hole still existed, looming and terrifying, harboring Hamlet’s dark secrets, while the dual straits wrapped around it, but it was nowhere near an invitation as it had been for nearly a century.
It would always exist, she knew. A natural border that kept those who didn’t belong out, and those who tested Hamlet’s hospitalityin, it appeared in the distance.
But it would no longer be an invitation.
The gulley was so foreboding in the darkness. That was why Maria insisting on coming out at sunset, when the shadows from the trees would still lend a little protection without having the specter of the all-consuming hole hiding in the pitch-black of night to taunt her.
As they approached it, Maria lay her left hand on Sly’s right thigh; there was still enough sunlight filtering in through the surrounding trees to reflect off of the engagement ring she wore on her finger. For the first few days after her time in captivity was over, she worried the band so often, her fiancé suggested they put it back in its box.
She refused. Reminding Sly it was her love for him that got her through those terrible hours and days she was trapped with Nathaniel Boone and the masked Mason Walsh, she kept it where it belonged. But, because she also knew what her disappearance had done to Sly, she made a conscious effort to stop fiddling with it.
Four years later, and it was Mack Turner all over again. Worse, because she’d been able to play dumb and pretend that his accident was just that: an accident. In the aftermath of another set of double murders—all in the same night this time, rather than the days separating Jack Sullivan being strangled and Maria’s former sister-in-law being shot—she had to face the truth.
Her brother had killed to protect her, the same way he killed to save his wife.
One look in his icy blue eyes as he tucked Tessa beneath his chin, holding her close, and Maria admitted that another long-held, secret suspicion was most likely true: Lucas had killed to save his wife, just like he must have killed to make her his in the first place.
Did she like it? No.
Did she agree with it? No.
Was that knowledge going to change anything about her relationship with Lucas and Tessa?
No.
For two weeks, the married couple moved into Ophelia to keep Maria company while Sly played his part as the sheriff of Hamlet. Lucas moved his and Tessa’s luggage into the Blue Room on the second floor, and if the world seemed to spin off of its axis as Maria came to terms with who her brother was… having him home again knocked it right back into place.
Whatever Lucas was, he was her flesh and blood, her beloved brother, and Maria didn’t care what that said about her. She loved him, and when he left with Tessa at the beginning of the week, she was sad to see him go. But he had to. Lucas had a life of his own on the outside that he had to get back to. Now that Sly was spending more time at Ophelia—and Maria was doing much better—there was no reason for him to watch over her any longer.
As her brother kissed her cheek before he took Tessa by her hand, Lucas promised he’d be back for her wedding. Hopefully, by then, she could forget that look in his eye…
Maria squeezed her fingers, digging into Sylvester’s thigh. “Tesoro… you passed the sign.”
“Sorry, sweetheart.” Sly slowed down the cruiser. “I was keeping my eye on the gulley.”
Of course. Thought he wasn’t a local, he’d had more than enough experience with it to respect its depths. From being part of the team who had to recover Mack Turner’s truck all those years ago, then Tommy Mather’s Jaguar, to being there when Mason Walsh fell backward into it… Sly knew better than most Hamlet villagers how dangerous it could be.
When Maria woke up yesterday morning from another uneasy sleep, turning to see that Sly was watching her with his pretty copper-colored eyes, she asked him what he thought about her painting a new sign.
