“You okay?” Scotty asked, keeping a respectful distance.
“Fine,” Brook replied after she forced her breathing to return to normal.
She tore her gaze away from the tombstone and surveyed the cemetery. The landscape created natural sight lines, allowing her to track potential approaches and retreats. Jacob wouldn't have chosen a random path. It wasn’t in his nature. Each movement would have been predetermined to maximize efficiency and minimize exposure.
At least, until the very moment he wanted to be seen.
The small stone chapel sat on the highest point of the cemetery, its windows offering perfect visibility of anyone approaching Sally's grave from the main entrance. Brook studied its weathered façade, noting the south-facing door that would have provided a quick exit toward the secondary access road.
“Your mom called out to the man?” Brook asked for the third time that morning. She needed to understand the exact turn of events. “And he didn’t react in any way?”
“No. She just saw the back of him. Said he had a dark coat, hood up. He never turned around, so it could've been anyone.”
Brook continued her visual assessment of the grounds. From Sally's grave, three distinct routes offered clean escape paths. The gravesite visit hadn't been impulsive. It had been planned,which meant that he’d been monitoring those comings and goings from the cemetery for weeks.
“How often does your mom visit your father’s grave?”
“Every Sunday.”
Scotty shuffled his feet against the cold, clearly uncomfortable with the extended exposure to the winter air.
“And where's your father's grave located?” Brook asked, still focusing on the chapel.
Scotty turned, scanning the rows of headstones behind her before pointing toward another section.
“About six rows back and to the right.”
“And which direction did your mother see the man leave?”
“That way.” Scotty gestured toward the chapel, opposite where they had parked their vehicles. “Past that cluster of pine trees.”
Brook's gaze followed his direction to the right of the chapel. The pines created a natural barrier. Perfect cover for someone who didn't want to be noticed. She glanced over her shoulder toward the parking lot. A dark green pickup truck was parked at a discreet distance near the cemetery's western boundary.Chief Conway had positioned himself with a clear view of both her SUV and Sally's grave. The former police chief was keeping his promise to watch her back, despite his age and the short notice.
“Mind if we follow the path he took?” Brook asked, nodding toward the pines. “Just to be thorough.”
“Sure, but I don’t know what you think you’ll find,” Scotty muttered as he followed her lead. The path between the graves narrowed as they approached the stand of pines. The dense evergreen branches blocked much of the wind, creating a stillness that came across as almost artificial compared to the open ground they'd left behind.
“You should know that Ben hardly ever comes back to Morton anymore,” Scotty said, filling the uncomfortable silence."He moved to Seattle years ago. Software development or something. But his parents usually travel there, rather than the other way around.”
Brook remained quiet. She had no desire to discuss Sally’s brother. Jacob had destroyed the Pearson family, and they had made their feelings about her very clear years ago. They'd been relieved when she left for college. They hadn’t wanted the constant reminder of what they’d lost, and Brook couldn’t blame them.
“His wife had a baby last year,” Scotty continued. “A girl.”
The path curved gently around a particularly large pine, its lower branches sweeping low enough that Brook had to duck slightly to pass. The snow thinned beneath the canopy, revealing patches of frozen earth and scattered pine needles.
They emerged from the pine grove onto a narrow gravel road that bordered the back of the cemetery. The maintenance access route had two vehicles parked approximately fifty yards to their left. One of them caught her interest, so she memorized the license plate.
“Thank you for meeting me today, Scotty.” Brook turned, catching him off guard. He surveyed their surroundings, gave a slight nod, and turned to retrace their steps. This time, he led the way through the narrow path of pines. “I should get back on the road soon if I want to make it back to Ohio at a decent hour.”
“From what I heard on the news, the FBI believes he’s dead.” Scotty wasn’t about to change the subject. He cleared the last pine tree, pausing to wait until she was beside him before they continued forward. “I don’t know what you expected to find here, Brook, but it isn’t Jacob.”
Had Scotty truly believed his own words, he never would have reached out to her in the first place.
“Jacob came back to Morton in the days after Sally’s funeral, Scotty.” Brook inhaled deeply in appeasement, despite the frigidtemperature. She’d found what she’d been searching for, and she was pleased with the outcome. Once she touched base with Bit, she would have her verification. “He dug up her grave, stole her head, and transported it to Alaska without anyone the wiser. He kept her there for years, and I brought her back home. Jacob isn’t dead, Scotty, despite the Bureau’s belief to the contrary. He came here for two reasons—to say goodbye, and to send me a message.”
They walked the rest of the way in silence. Chief Conway's truck remained in position, though she couldn't make out his silhouette through the tinted windows. She had yet to speak with him, but she would do so before leaving town.
“I know better than to ask what message, don’t I?” Scotty replied wryly as he turned to face her. He flashed his crooked grin, though it faded fast. His voice contained a grave undertone that spoke volumes, which meant she didn’t need to explain the significance of Jacob’s presence here in town. “Even under these circumstances, it was good to see you. Take care of yourself, Brook.”
