Hailey
For just a second, the initial shock of Mack’s phone ringing gave way to relief: Hailey hadn’t heard the car pull in, but he must be back now, safe if not sound.
Except that was impossible, because Hailey had been sitting on the steps, fretting at every tiny noise, for the last hour. So had Gulliver, in between bouts of chewing at his Christmas sweater, and there had been no headlights through the front windows, no tires on snow in the driveway. No barking. The ring came from the kitchen; Hailey found Mack’s phone on the counter, vibrating angrily against the granite. Had he left it behind on purpose? To be untraceable?
No. She couldn’t think like this.
The screen readTilda/Sandy Hollow, and Hailey answered it just in time, with Gulliver’s worried eyes staring up at her.
“Hello?” Her voice was hoarse.
“Oh, ah... Hailey? Is that Hailey Evans? I’m looking for Mack.”
“Yes. Yes, this is Mack’s phone. He’s not here right now.” Hailey briefly wondered whether she should have admitted this, but it was technically a working day, and even though it wasn’t 7:00 a.m. yet, Mack could have been anywhere that early risers went: the gym, the office... any normal place.
The voice on the line was full of kindness. “Hailey, this is Tilda, from Sandy Hollow down in Jupiter... we met when you were here. I’m sorry for the early hour; is Mack due back anytime soon?”
“I’m not... He had something come up early this morning. He’s not here,” Hailey repeated; she was desperate to get off the phone and get back to listening for Mack. “Is anything wrong?”
“Well, I think it’s best if I go ahead and let you know that his mother passed away this morning. Leonora died in her sleep, without any distress.”
“What?”
“Leonora died this morning,” Tilda said again. “I’m so sorry.”
“When?”
“This morning.”
“When this morning?”
A note of defensiveness crept into Tilda’s voice: “Only just now, Mrs. Evans. I called Mack right away.”
Hailey leaned over the counter. Mack’s mother had died. This morning. Today. On this day.
Hailey tried to think of the questions she knew Mack would ask. “Were you with her?”
“No, I’m so sorry, but I wasn’t. I started my shift not even half an hour ago, and they had just found her. I’m so very sorry. She was such a special lady. Are you okay? Will you have Mack call me?”
“Yes,” Hailey said. “Yes, of course I will. Just as soon as he gets back.”
She hung up, and the quiet that descended again had a disturbing new charge to it: with every fiber of her being, Hailey needed Mack to come back. But she also wanted him to stay away forever, so that she could protect him from this news that she would somehow have to deliver. Even in the black hole they were in, Mack would feel the loss of his mother so deeply that Hailey’s own heart could sense what was coming, and the racing it had been prone to lately slowed to a pulsing ache.
Outside the window, it looked like the snow was being shoveled onto their house from above by some giant, invisible hand.
52.
Mack
The man who came jogging up Danekar Road was white. Middle-aged. Pretty thick around the middle for someone who was supposed to be such a devoted runner. It was barely light out, and Mack was tucked in a corner of the street (if you could call it that; Danekar was still mostly gravel, which actually made it more navigable in the snow), but the bright neon green of the man’s jacket was unmistakable. Exactly as described.
Mack slid his eyes to the clock on the dashboard: 6:35 a.m.
Imagine being so disciplined, soroutine, that hiring someone to kill you would be this easy. What if this guy had had too much to drink on Christmas Day, or too much to eat, or had stayed up late putting Christmas presents together, or... but here this man was. Mack disliked him instantly.
If anybody wanted to killMack, it would be a lot harder. They’d have to stake out at least three Starbucks, maybe make a contingency plan for gunning him down on the school run or behind his house while he hit golf balls. It would take avillageto kill Mack. He spent a long minute fantasizing about this as the man got closer to him: things would be so much easier if someone could just put Mack Evans out of his misery. Hell, he even had some life insurance, so Hailey and the girls would be...wait. What if this man had life insurance too? That would make sense; that could be what this was all about. Maybe the man wanted to die, maybe this was suicide lite. But why would the selfish bastard choose Mack then? Why do this tohim?
The man’s feet crunched on the gravel in time with Mack’s thoughts:Why, why,why.
