I point south. And he begins walking.
IWAIT FORhim to deposit himself in a chair at the table, and then I get a glass of water, trying to keep my eyes from straying to the living room, to the sofa where she was. “How did you find me?”
He clasps his hands on the table. “Wasn’t easy. Instinct, I guess. And a bit of luck. You left a few clues, bits of evidence in your wake. Once I figured out you didn’t drown but fled, it was just a matter of following them.”
I tug at my lower lip, annoyed. “I thought I was so careful.”
He gives me a tight smile. “You were, but everybody leaves something. They found your life vest in the marina. There was a stain—same color as the pokeweed berries from the note and the bridge. And then the report came out about the man in Virginia, and the video from the hotel lobby, the car in Syracuse. I found the shirt you left behind in the cemetery there. The neck was rimmed with hair dye. I asked around campus and a girl admitted to driving you to the bus station, said you mentioned Crow Lake. Fromthere, it was just a little detective work to find your aunt, connect her to you through the same maiden name. Birth certificates and census records confirmed the relation, and I came here. But the motel and house were empty, so I—”
“Risked getting yourself hopelessly lost by stumbling around the woods?”
He grins. “It was a hunch.”
“A pretty good one,” I admit.
He shrugs. “I heard the dog, followed the sound, ran into you chasing that man.”
“Literally,” I add.
“I saw my chance and I took it. I didn’t want to lose you. Who was that guy anyway?”
I try to hide my annoyance at having been intercepted. It may be his fault, but he didn’t do it on purpose. “A squatter. They get ’em up here all the time.” I take a deep breath and square my shoulders, setting the glass on the counter beside me. “What are you doing here, Detective? Come to haul me away? Arrest me for jumping off a bridge? If you’re good enough to put all that together, then surely, you’re good enough to put togetherwhy.”
“I know why,” he’s quick to confirm, and his eyes lower respectfully. “I may not know everything he’s put you through, but what you didn’t take a picture of, I can imagine.”
I lean back against the counter by the sink skeptically. “Can you?”
“We have a connection, you and I,” he says, watching me.
He’s not wrong, but if he’s operating on some misguided principle that heknowsme, knows what I need, then it’s my job to set him straight. “I appreciate your gratitude. I do, truly. And I will always be glad that I was there for you at that precise moment and able to act quickly. But don’t let coincidence cloud your judgment or delude you, Detective. There is a wealth of information about me that you can never know and that I am not at liberty nor under any obligation to tell you. Besides, I haven’t got the time.”
He only smiles, which is not exactly the reaction I was expecting.
“I got into law enforcement because of my mother,” he tells me. “She was a victim of domestic violence. The things I witnessed growing up, they stayed with me.” He taps his chest with a finger. “In here. You can’t unsee stuff like that. It burrows into you, changes you. Not always for the better. She got out finally, no thanks to the police or anyone else for that matter. Just fear and willpower, and the grace of God, according to her. But the tall man altered us all, and I’ll never forget or forgive him. You’re not the only one with a Henry, Piers, and you’re not the only one who knows what it is to run.”
I close my eyes, hating the idea of his face, younger, smaller, lined with worry and panic. “I’m sorry. I didn’t know.”
He shakes his head. “How could you?” Leaning forward on the table, he says, “I know my appearance here is uninvited and must come as a shock, but believe me when I say, I came to warn you.”
The confidence I felt earlier chasing the Strangler, the killer instinct, seems to puddle at my feet. “Warn me?”
“You’re not safe here,” he says, brutally quiet. “If I found you, so can he.”
My fingernails dig into the counter’s overhang.Henry.My stomach burns and I clutch it helplessly, the fear a living thing in my body.Henry is coming.“When did he leave?”
“Before me. He won’t have some of the things I did at his disposal, but I’ve met your husband. He’s smart. Smarter than he deserves to be. And very little escapes him. It was brazen, what you did, trying to frame him for your murder. I can admire that, even if it is illegal. But it’s backfired. You have to know what that means.”
“I know,” I tell him quietly. “And I appreciate your concern, that you came all this way. But I can’t leave. Not now. Not yet.”
A troubled expression crosses his face before he presses his lips together. “I’m here unofficially, but I can take you into custody, ma’am. I’ll do that if it’s the only way to keep you safe.”
“Are you threatening me, Detective?”
He doesn’t respond.
I level my gaze on him. “You can’t keep me safe. I appreciate that you want to try, Emil. I do. You’re one of the good ones. And I know you feel like there’s some kind of score to settle between us. But you have no idea what you’ve stepped into the middle of. You’re in over your head.”
“With all due respect,” he says confidently, “I’m not afraid of your husband.”
