SESSION TWENTY-FOUR

Now you’re going to make me cry. I understand you need some time off before you decide whether to move your practice to Victoria—you’ve been through a lot yourself in the last while. God, I don’t know how you kept seeing clients during everything. And thanks for the referral to your friend. I’ll probably give him a try, at least until you decide what you’re doing. But I can’t believe this might be the last time I sit on your couch, the last time I’m in this office. I hope it’s not. But I guess time will tell. Time tells a lot of things. My whole life I’ve bucked against time—usually because it wasn’t going fast enough for me. But then there are moments when it’s hurtling toward you and you’d give anything to stop the clock.

*   *   *

Billy came over after Ally was in bed. As I let him in I told him to sit at the table while I finished up some dishes, but he grabbed a tea towel.

We worked in companionable silence for a minute or two, then he said, “So where’s Evan tonight?”

“He had to go back to the lodge.” I snorted. “He couldn’t wait to get out of here.”

“Uh-oh. You guys fighting?”

“It’s just the usual stuff.” I sighed. “He wants me to move on and forget about the case, but it’s not that easy for me. The loose ends are driving me nuts.”

“So what’s bugging you?”

“Remember when you said Evan was shot with John’s Remington .223? Well, I remembered later that John told me his gun was in the shop—the firing pin was broken.”

“Huh. Interesting, but he probably had another one.”

“Evan said the same thing, but John always talked about that one being his favorite, like it was the only one for him. I mean, you heard the tapes. He talked about guns like they were girlfriends. Then I started thinking … look, I know this sounds crazy, but how do we know for sure he shot Evan?”

His eyebrows shot up. “Who else did you have in mind?”

“Yeah, that’s the hole in my theory.” I made a face and grinned. “The only other person who’d want Evan out of the way is Sandy.”

“Wow, Sara. I know you don’t like her, but that’s harsh.”

“It’s not that I don’t like her—she doesn’t like me. I hate that! Anyway, I know it wasn’t her, I’m just saying it’s weird about the gun. He probably had two, like you said, but can you look into it so I can stop obsessing? If he was part of those collector groups maybe he had to list all his guns for them?”

“Sure, I’ll look into it. But just for argument’s sake, if it wasn’t John, who else had a motive to shoot Evan? Don’t forget a shell from John’s gun was found at the scene.”

“I know John’s the only possible suspect, but the gun thing doesn’t fit.” I laughed. “It’s like OJ’s gloves.”

As Billy finished drying the last dish, I took the tea towel from him.

“I’ll put the dishes away. Sit.”

He turned and pulled out a chair at the table.

“Just out of curiosity, why did you think Sandy wanted Evan out of the way?”

I shrugged. “She was obsessed with catching John and she knew Evan was the reason I wouldn’t meet with him—she also thought my therapist was advising me against meeting him. It would’ve been easy for her to plant a shell at the scene and frame John. Three for three.”

“That’s it?”

I reached to put away the last plate. “Well, it was after my last fight with Sandy that Nadine was attacked. John always shot people—he didn’t jump them in parking lots. When John called me at the hospital he was really keyed up and kept saying he had to meet me. Not like he was anxious, like he was scared.”

I hung up the tea towel. Billy was watching me intently, his head tilted to the side. God, it was nice to talk to a man who actually listened and didn’t just tell me to let it go.

I said, “And I was thinking tonight that it’s weird he went straight to my house that day after he called me at the hospital. How did he know Ally was here and only one officer was watching her? Plus he knew I’d been talking to the police—he said he was going to explain later but he never got the chance. Maybe he’d been doing countersurveillance like you said and he saw something.” Moose came downstairs from Ally’s room and I let him out the sliding door. “Don’t you think some of that stuff is weird?”

I sat down at the table in front of Billy. He heaved a sigh.

“In cases where the suspect dies it’s hard to fit every piece together, Sara. But that doesn’t mean there’s more to it—it just means we don’t have all the answers. I’ll check into the gun, but I wonder if you’re having a hard time letting go for another reason.”

“What do you mean?”

His voice was cautious. “You might still be trying to deal with John’s death. Or maybe you’re having a hard time facing some other things in your life. Your wedding is coming up, and—”

“It’s not that. It’s just all these little mysteries really bug me. They make me feel like it’s not completely over yet. I’m going to go online later and look at some gun forums. John spent a lot of time on the computer—bet I can find something.”

“It’s pretty unlikely John would list unregistered guns, or use his real name on a forum. Even if we did find a list somewhere, we’ll never know if it’s accurate. There’s no way to verify how many guns he owned.”

“Good point.” I took a deep breath and let it out in a long exhale as I turned everything over in my mind. “Maybe I’m looking at this the wrong way. If we can’t prove he didn’t shoot Evan, let’s see if there’s any evidence other than the shell casing that proves he did. Tofino’s almost three hours from here. John would’ve had to fill up with gas somewhere along the way. Did you find any receipts in his belongings?”

“I don’t believe so, but that—”

“Guess he could’ve just paid with cash. Oh! We should hit all the gas stations on the way with a photo of him. It wouldn’t be hard—there’s only one main route. Don’t most stations have cameras now? People usually fill up in Port Alberni because it’s the last stop. We should start there. After I drop Ally off at school in the morning we can—”

Billy held up a hand. “Whoa. I don’t have time to canvass gas stations.”

“Okay. But I’m not going to be able to relax until I figure some of this out. I’ll go to every gas station myself if I have to.” I smiled. “I’m relentless.”

“That you are.” He smiled back. “Let me think about it. Got some coffee?”

“Sure.”

I poured a cup, then turned around.

Billy’s gun was pointed at me.

I laughed. “What are you…” Then I saw the expression in his eyes.

He said, “Put the cup down on the counter.”

I didn’t move a muscle. “What’s going on, Billy?”

“You never leave anything alone.”

“I don’t understand—”

“It was over, Sara. No one would ever have found out.” He shook his head.

I stepped back until the edge of the counter pressed into my spine. What the hell was going on?

“Billy, you’re scaring me.” I scanned his face for any sign that this was a horrible joke, but he looked serious. “What did I—”

“Put the cup down.”

As I turned to set it on the counter my mind scrambled. Is this for real? Do I need a weapon? Should I try to throw the cup at him? Can I grab a knife? I glanced at the end of the counter.

“Don’t even think about it. I’m three times your size and three times as fast.” He stood up and walked toward me.

“Why are you doing this? Did Sandy—”

“Sandy didn’t do anything.” He stopped in front of me

I searched his face. “Then why are you—”

“Because you’re right—I did fill up in Port Alberni. But I’m not going to wait to find out if there was a camera.”

“It was you? You shot Evan?”

“‘The warrior skilled at stirring the enemy provides a visible form and the enemy is sure to come.’” Billy stared at me, his eyes slits. “Evan was in the way and you needed some incentive. I also knew it would flush John out—he’d want to protect you.”

I couldn’t believe what I was hearing.

“You tried to kill Evan so John would think someone was after me?”

“‘I attack that which he is obliged to rescue.’”

Everything started to fall into place.

“He knew something was wrong,” I said. “That’s why he was so panicky when he called me at the hospital and was making all those threats—that’s why he didn’t call my cell. He was rescuing Ally.” I sucked in my breath. “Did you attack Nadine, too?”

“I didn’t touch her. And if I tried to kill Evan, he’d be dead. I just needed to injure him for my plan to work. And I was right. You reacted, John reacted, and now he’ll never hurt another woman.” He stepped closer. “But now we have a problem.”

My legs turned to liquid. “I won’t say anything, Billy. I swear.”

“Unfortunately, I can’t take that risk.”

The words poured out. “There’s no risk. I’m not going to tell anyone. You made a mistake—but you were just trying to catch John. Even if someone did find out, you wouldn’t be in that much trouble—”

“I didn’t make a mistake.” He looked as calm as ever. “I shot someone, Sara—that’s attempted murder. I’d go to jail for a very long time. But that’s not going to happen.”

The way he said it terrified me. He wasn’t scared or panicked, much less desperate. He sounded confident.

My body started to shake. “What—what are you going to do, Billy? You can’t shoot me. Ally’s upstairs and—”

He held his fingers up to his lips. “I have to think.”

I shut up. He stared at me. His eyes were dark. The kitchen clock ticked.

I started to cry. “Billy, please, you’re my friend. How can—”

“I like you, Sara, but ‘the wise leader always blends consideration of gain and harm.’ There’s no gain in letting you live. But there’s great harm.”

“No, I swear. There isn’t any—”

He held up a hand. “I’ve got it. I’m not going to do anything.” My heart lifted for a moment, but then his eyes met mine and he said, “You are.”

My vision blurred as my blood roared in my ears. For a moment the room spun and I gripped the counter behind me. My head pulsed, but I couldn’t focus on anything, couldn’t think.

He said, “We’re going upstairs to get those pills your shrink prescribed, then you’re going to take all of them and write a suicide note.”

“Billy, this is crazy! How can you do this? What about Ally?”

“She’ll be fine if you do everything I tell you.”

“You can’t make me write—”

“Do you love your daughter, Sara?” His eyes were resolute. I didn’t know if he’d actually hurt Ally, but I didn’t want to find out.

“I’ll do it, I just—”

He motioned with the gun. “Let’s go.”

“Can we just talk about this for a—”

He gripped my arm hard and pulled me away from the counter. Then, with the gun pressed against my lower back, he urged me upstairs. With each step my mind tried to formulate a plan, but all I could think was, Please, Ally, don’t wake up. At the top of the stairs we turned and walked down the hall past her room, my heart hammering so hard it hurt. As we entered my bedroom tears started to slide down my face.

“Where are your pills, Sara?”

“In the—in the bathroom.” This was really happening, I was going to die.

“Open the medicine cabinet and take out the pills, but nothing else.” I stared at myself in the mirror. My eyes were huge, my face pale. I opened the cabinet and took out the bottle.

“Fill up that glass with water.” Billy motioned to the glass I’d left on the counter earlier. “Hurry up.”

I turned on the tap.

“Billy, please, you don’t have to do this.”

His voice deepened. “Take them.”

I emptied the bottle into my shaking hand and stared at the small white tablets. The glass was cold in my other hand.

Billy said, “If you don’t swallow them, I’ll have to shoot you. Ally will hear, then she’ll come to—”

I pushed the pills into my mouth, choking on the chalky, bitter taste. I held the cold glass to my lips and took a swallow of water, then another as pills lodged in my throat, the bitter taste traveling up the back of my nose.

“Those ones too.” He pointed the gun at a small bottle of Percocet I keep for migraines.

When I was done he nodded and said, “Now we have to mess up your bed.”

“But I don’t—”

“You were trying to go to sleep, but you were so depressed you decided to end everything once and for all.”

With the gun still pointed at my back, I tugged the blanket free.

“Now strip.”

“Billy, you don’t want to do this.”

He raised the gun and pointed it at me. “Right, I don’t. But no way in hell I’m going to jail.”

The books said to fight. But they didn’t say what to do if the threat was a cop. And they didn’t say what to do if your daughter was in the other room. I pictured Ally skipping in to wake me in the morning, climbing into bed next to my cold body.

I pulled my sweater over my head. He motioned with the gun to my pants. I unzipped them and tugged them off, leaving them on the floor.

I stood before him in my panties and bra. He was looking around the room, at the bed, at the door. Like he was making sure the scene was right.

He stepped closer until his huge body was directly in front of me.

“Take off your bra.” After my bra fell to the ground, I crossed my arms over my breasts. My whole upper body was shaking.

“Drop your arms.”

“Billy, please, I don’t—”

“If you don’t, I’ll have to do it myself.”

I dropped my arms.

“Now take off your panties.”

Tears streaked my face as I peeled them off. I choked back a sob.

“Are you going to rape me?” I thought of Ally in the next room. I couldn’t scream, no matter what he did to me I couldn’t scream. “It doesn’t have to be this way. I’ll sleep with you and—”

“I’m not going to rape you.” He looked insulted. “I’m not like your father. I don’t have to force myself on women.”

My temper reared but I held it in. Shut up for Ally. Do it for Ally.

He motioned to the dresser. “Put on your pajamas.”

I took out one of Evan’s T-shirts—one he knows I hate—and a pair of his boxers, which I never wear, hoping he would notice these details after I was dead. I put them on.

“Now we’re going to get some paper for your suicide note.”

After I found a pen and a pad of paper in my office, we headed downstairs. Once we were in the kitchen, he gestured to a half-empty bottle of Shiraz on the counter.

“Take that and sit at the table.”

I sat and stared at him.

“Drink some straight from the bottle.”

I took a swill.

He said, “Again.”

I did it, gagging on the last mouthful. Some spilled on my T-shirt. I thought about the lethal concoction already spreading through my veins, wondered how long it would take to stop my heart. Billy looked around the kitchen and back to me, assessing the scene again.

“Good. Now start writing. When the pills kick in you’re going to go lie on the couch.”

“Ally, she’ll find me in the morning and—”

“I’ll stop by first thing and find your body before she wakes up. And I’ll make sure she’s out of the house when the police show up.”

“Promise you won’t let her see me.”

“Sure.”

When I picked up the pen my hand was shaking violently. I had to think of something that would stall him so I could come up with a plan. But even if I could get to the alarm—then what?

“Write the letter, Sara.”

It wasn’t hard to write a sad good-bye letter. I told them how much I loved them, how sorry I was, how much I was going to miss them, but this was the only thing I could do. I cried the whole time I was writing. I wanted to stab Billy in the eye with the pen, but you couldn’t stab a man with anything when he was pointing a gun at you. Ally would be okay. Evan would take care of her. She’d grow up hating me, thinking I’d abandoned her. But at least she’d get to grow up.

When I was done Billy said, “Now we wait.”

Fear tight in my throat, I said, “You’re never going to get away with this.”

“No one will ever suspect me—and you know it.”

The phone rang and we both jumped. I looked upstairs, praying Ally didn’t wake.

“Let’s hope she’s a deep sleeper,” Billy said as it rang for the second time. She is once she gets going, but she hadn’t been asleep for long. I held my breath as I waited for her to call out for me. Thankfully she was silent and the phone didn’t ring again—it must have gone to voice mail. I remember Melanie’s number was on the call display when I first got home. Thinking she’d called to tell me off, I’d ignored it, but now I wished I could call her and tell her I was sorry a million times over. My chest heaved with the effort to hold in panicky sobs.

It had been at least fifteen minutes since I’d taken the pills. I couldn’t stop the tears streaming down my face now. I was going to die and I didn’t get to kiss my daughter. I’d barely hugged Evan good-bye. We never got a chance to be married. Stop it, Sara. Calm down so you can think of a way out of this. If I kept talking, I might be able to stay alert enough to at least buy myself some time to come up with a plan.

“They might not suspect you right away, but they’re not going to believe I killed myself. My family, Evan, my therapist, everyone knows I wouldn’t do this to Ally—and I’m getting married. I was just talking to one of my sisters about my bachelorette party. Why would I—”

“There’s a suicide note in your handwriting. They’ll believe it.” But something flickered in his eyes.

“My phone records show we talked tonight—you were the last person to see me alive. Your fingerprints are all over the dishes.”

“I came over to talk to you because you were upset.” He shrugged. “I didn’t realize you were suicidal.”

“But you’re a trained professional, you should’ve known. There’ll be an investigation, Billy.”

“I’ll deal with it. This will work.”

He was too calm. Nothing was shaking him. Panic came crashing back in on me, paralyzing my every thought except that time was running out. I was going to die.

I stared at Billy. Everything started to feel distant and slow, like I was moving underwater. I heard a roaring in my ears and wondered if I was going to pass out. Then Billy shifted his stance and my eyes landed on his tattoos.

Weakness stems from preparing against attack. Strength stems from obliging the enemy to prepare against an attack.

That was it. I’d found my strategy. I had to go on the attack. The fear left my body as my mind cleared.

“Like how your plan to catch John worked?”

His eyes narrowed. “It did work.”

“You never caught him—I killed him. I had to do your job for you.”

His hand tightened on the gun. I flashed to the conversation we’d had about how he used to have a temper. He’d trained himself to channel it and to hold it in, but that didn’t mean it wasn’t still there. What had he said about kickboxing? The opponent who loses his cool loses his coordination. Maybe if I provoked him, he’d let down his guard and I could make a break for the phone or the alarm.

“The Art of War didn’t help. It’s all just a bunch of crap.”

“This case proves it works.”

He said the words with conviction, but there was a slight flush to his neck. I’d touched a nerve.

“Nobody will take that stupid book you’re writing seriously—definitely not the RCMP. Even Sandy doesn’t listen to you.”

The flush crawling up his neck darkened. “She will. When she reads it and sees how it helped the case.”

“But you’re leaving out the part where you shot Evan, aren’t you? That’s why you’re killing me. Because if the truth comes out, then everyone knows you’re a liar—all your strategies and plans are bullshit. You broke the law.”

“It works. I just needed one big case to prove it. And I did.”

“No, Billy, you screwed up. You told me I had to be patient but you took matters into your own hands. Then an officer—your partner—got hurt. You rushed things and it escalated John.”

“John had to be stopped. Because of my actions he’ll never kill another woman.”

“But if you kill me you’re a murderer too, and—”

“I told you, I’m not going to jail—not for saving lives.”

“You didn’t care about stopping a killer or saving lives. Everything you’ve done all along has been for yourself.” His eyes were still dark, but he’d managed to calm himself down. I was starting to feel drowsy and light-headed. I had to take another shot. “You don’t care about any of the people he murdered.”

“You don’t know the first thing about me.”

“I know the RCMP are going to laugh when they find out what you did. This isn’t the first time you screwed up. Remember the old lady who got shot because you broke into that rapist’s house?”

He stood up. “You stupid bitch. You don’t—”

“You couldn’t control the case and you couldn’t control me. You broke the law to make the case fit the strategies, not the other way around.”

“If I was you, I’d shut up now.” A vein started to pulse in Billy’s forehead and he took a step toward me.

We both heard the crunch of tires on the gravel outside at the same time.

“Don’t move,” Billy said. “Shit, it’s your sister. You say one word and I’ll blow her head off.” Oh, God, Lauren.

I wanted to scream and warn her, but Ally was in the house and it was too late. Billy was already opening the door.

“Hi, Melanie. Your sister’s in the kitchen.” Melanie? Why was she here?

She walked in, spotted me sitting at the table.

“Hey, I forgot my cell. I tried to call—” She saw my face, turned to look at Billy. He had the gun pointed at her head. As she gasped and took a step backward, the sob I was holding in my throat broke free.

Billy walked forward with the gun still aimed at her.

“Sit down at the table with your sister.” She turned and looked at me, then glanced at the sliding glass door. “Don’t even think about it. Sara’s already realized what will happen to Ally if anyone does something stupid.”

Melanie’s eyes met mine. I nodded.

Billy said, “Sit down, Melanie.”

She pulled the chair out beside me.

“Put your hands on the table where I can see them.”

She did, slowly.

“Sara was just in the middle of killing herself. She’s already taken the pills.” Melanie’s gaze flew to my face. My eyes told her it was true.

She turned to Billy. “You can’t make both of us kill—”

“Shut up. I just have to adjust my plan.” He started to pace.

Melanie tried to stand up. Billy smacked her in the face with the back of his hand. She fell back into her chair with a yelp.

“Do you want to wake up Ally?” he said.

I said, “She’s right, Billy. How are you going to explain two deaths?”

He pointed the gun at me. “I told you to shut up.” He continued pacing. Then stopped and spun around. “John had a large fan base, all murder groupies—they’re angry you killed him. One of them decided to seek revenge.” He nodded. “I can make that work.”

Billy walked over to the knife block, picked up the biggest one, and hefted it in his hand, like he was testing its weight. He sliced it through the air, once, twice.

Melanie said, “Or I can help you.” I gasped. But she didn’t look at me. She said, “Suicide is way more believable—there’s already drugs in Sara’s system. We don’t have to hurt the kid. But it would look better for you if I’m the one to find Sara’s body. I could try to revive her, but…” She shrugged.

“You think I’m going to fall for that?” But he sounded tense. He knew she was right.

“I hate Sara.” Melanie spit the words out. “I’ve always hated her. She’s not even my real sister. If she dies, I’ll owe you for the rest of my life.” She dropped to her knees off the chair. Startled, Billy stepped back, the gun pointed at her face, but she crawled forward on her knees. “I’ll even tell the cops I saw her today and she was really depressed.”

From the side, I saw a gleam in Melanie’s eye. I wanted to say something, anything, but my tongue felt thick and my vision was a little blurry. The pills were definitely kicking in.

Melanie was in front of Billy now. He didn’t move.

“I’m your best chance to get out of this,” she said. Billy’s face was intense, his forehead covered in a fine sheen of sweat.

Her hands at her sides, Melanie rose, still on her knees, so her mouth was right in front of Billy’s crotch. He stared down, transfixed.

“I’ll do anything you want, Billy.”

I finally found my voice. “Doesn’t matter what she says—you’ll never get away with this. And when your father finds out, he’ll—”

Billy looked up. “You bitch—”

Melanie rammed her forehead into his crotch. He let out a huge bellow and stumbled backward. The knife fell out of his hands and skidded to my left. I lunged for it, but my body was slow to respond and I hit the floor with a thud.

Melanie and Billy were struggling for the gun. He grabbed her by the hair and slammed her head into the fridge. I reached for the knife but my fingers closed around air. I looked to my left and saw Billy dive for the gun on the floor—Melanie kicked it away in time.

He punched her. She went down and stayed down. Now he was coming for me. My vision was blurry, but I could see the gun in his hand. I searched the floor in frantic swoops. Just as my fingers closed around the knife, his hands grasped my feet and he hauled me out from under the table. I tried to grip the table leg with one hand, but he pulled harder. Then I heard a small voice.

“Mommy?”

Billy let go of my leg and straightened up. I thrust the knife into his thigh. He screamed and clutched at it. I was still gripping the handle as he wrenched his body backward until I was left holding the knife.

“Mommy!”

Blood from Billy’s leg was turning the front of his jeans dark. He dropped to his knees. My vision was getting worse.

Ally was still screaming. Billy crawled toward the gun, which had ended up near the sliding glass door. Moose was going nuts through the glass.

With the knife in my hands I crawled after Billy, but my body swayed. I focused my blurred eyes on his back as he stretched for the gun. When I was right behind him, I raised my hand with the knife. He saw me in the door’s reflection and kicked backward, catching me under the chin and knocking me into the cupboards. Ally screamed and ran toward me.

I yelled, “Stay there!”

Billy spun around, his face a mask of red rage, and pointed the gun at me. I used my last bit of strength to brace on my elbows and kicked my heel hard into the wound in his thigh. He screamed and I kicked out again, managing to connect with his hand and knocking the gun across the kitchen.

It landed at Ally’s feet. She had her hands over her ears as she screamed and screamed. Billy and I scrambled after the gun. I pulled myself onto his back and tried to wrap my arms under his neck. He got to his feet with me clinging to him and roared as he stumbled backward.

We hit the sliding glass door with a thud that knocked the breath out of me. As he stepped forward I slid off his back and landed on the floor hard, gasping for air. My mouth filled with the metallic taste of blood. He spun around and started to kick me. In my chest, my legs, my head. Pinned against the glass, I had nowhere to go. Behind me Moose barked frantically.

Melanie’s voice rang out. “Leave my sister alone, you fucker.”

The loud crack of a gun. The images were blurry, but I could make out the stunned expression on Billy’s face and a circle of blood opening up on the front of his shirt. Another shot rang out and he collapsed on top of me.

Everything turned dark. Hands were on my arm and someone was pulling me hard, and then there was a finger down my throat.

“Sara, throw up!”

I fought the finger, but it jammed in deeper.

Melanie’s voice said, “Ally, call 911!”

*   *   *

I hope to God you never have to have your stomach pumped, Nadine. Not a lot of fun—nor is hanging out in the hospital for two days. You wouldn’t believe how loud it gets in there sometimes, especially at night. But I never slept anyway. The fact that John took the blame for attacking you and shooting Evan still haunts me. He must have suspected it was someone on the force. But it’s hard to know what was going on in his head. I wonder sometimes why he didn’t just tell me it wasn’t him, but I wouldn’t have believed him. And he probably knew it.

He must have also known all along I was working with the cops and set up the meetings to test me. But I don’t understand why he kept phoning. He had to have realized he was taking a chance with each call. Was he that confident they wouldn’t catch him, or did he want a connection with me so badly he was willing to take the risk? I’d betrayed him, again and again, but he still tried to protect me. If I was carrying guilt for killing him before, I’m dragging heaps of it now. I understand your theory that I might be focusing on my father’s rescuing me as a way of reconciling myself with his being a serial killer. But it’s the opposite. Knowing he wasn’t all bad is a whole lot harder than believing he was pure evil.

I keep thinking about that last day with John—my only day with him—how hard he was trying to please me. And when I attacked him in the river … I wonder what he’d been trying to tell me. I’ll never know. There’s a lot we’ll never know about this case, which is what I’m having the hardest time with. Acceptance and letting go isn’t really my thing. But I need to if I’m ever going to find some sort of peace.

The cops were hard on us when they first took our statements, but as soon as they found the Remington .223 in Billy’s attic and discovered a shell casing missing from an evidence box, they changed their tune. Sandy came to see me in the hospital. Turns out it was Billy who convinced Julia to speak to me about meeting John. He’d been filling her in on the case all along, part of his strategy to scare the crap out of her so she’d turn around and pressure me. Sandy only spoke to her a couple of times. Julia wasn’t lying after all.

Sandy apologized for being so obsessed by the case and admitted she was hard on me. But it was part of a plan. After it became clear Sandy and I didn’t connect, Billy suggested she act as the aggressor and he be the nice guy. She still feels bad that John got Ally, and she’s mortified that she didn’t know what her partner was up to. When I told her I knew she’d done the best she could, I swear I saw tears in her eyes. I look at her differently now—or maybe I’m just finally seeing her.

When they searched Billy’s house they also found a few books about The Art of War and some other Chinese classics. On his hard drive they found a draft of his own book, titled The Art of Police Work. He’d used several famous cases for examples, but most of the strategies were applied to his “one big case,” the hunt for the Campsite Killer. He also had notebooks on John and copies of every file.

Another mystery was solved when they searched Billy’s browser history and found all the Web sites where he’d posted a link to the original article about the Campsite Killer being my father. He made sure it spread across the Internet—obviously in hopes of flushing out John. When the police looked into it they discovered he’d even posted the article on some where-to-camp-in-BC forums, using the screen name The Dark Knight. The worst part is that he linked to my business directory, which is probably how John got my cell number.

When I got home from the hospital I read The Art of War front to back, still trying to make sense of Billy’s actions. But in the end I was just left with the feeling he’d interpreted each quote for his own purposes. There was one line in there that basically summed up his entire friendship with me: “Command them with civility, rally them with martial discipline, and you will win their confidence.” Now I realize just how much Billy was manipulating me all along—keeping my spirits high, bringing me food, getting me ready for the next “battle,” even stealing Moose so he could help me find him.

First thing Dad said was, “I knew there was something off about him. He didn’t dress like a cop.” I started to argue that Billy’s dressing nice didn’t mean squat, then realized I was feeling defensive for liking Billy. That’s the hardest part, that I liked him. But maybe you’re right and it wasn’t Billy I liked so much as what he was teaching me. I know he just needed me to be calm so he could use me. But he did help. Even now when I get stressed out or start to panic I think, Breath, regroup, just focus on your strategy.

If this whole situation taught me anything, it’s that even though I was terrified ninety-five percent of the time, I did handle everything that was thrown at me. Now I just have to remember to keep moving forward when everything is going sideways. I doubt I’ll ever be cool in a crisis—I’m just not wired that way. But maybe I’ll stop freaking out about the fact that I freak out.

The police still don’t know who attacked you. Billy could’ve snuck out that night—I even told him the alarm code after he encouraged me to take an Ativan. But he would’ve bragged about it. Sandy still believes it was John, but I don’t think it was him either. Don’t worry—I’m staying out of this one. When I told Evan the same thing, he just laughed and said, “Riiiight.” But I swear this time I’m leaving it to the police.

Evan feels like a total jerk for blowing off my concerns about the gun, but he’s also pretty proud of himself for never trusting Billy. He’s been getting way too much mileage out of that one, but overall he’s being really sweet. All the fighting we went through scared me, but in the end it made me realize we can have differences and still be right for each other. If we can make it through two killers, marriage is going to be a piece of cake.

He brought Ally to see me in the hospital. She got super upset the first time—nothing like seeing your mommy with tubes coming out of her—but one of the doctors explained everything and she calmed down. She loved coming after that because I gave her my puddings.

She slept in our bed both nights I was in the hospital—Evan said she kept waking up screaming. We’ve been taking her to see that therapist and she’s getting better, but she’s still a little clingy. She’s also been throwing some major temper tantrums, so we have to work on that. But in the last month she’s been abducted, watched her mom and aunt get beat up, and seen a man get shot to death. She has to let it out somehow.

*   *   *

Melanie came to see me the first day I was in the hospital. I was sleeping, but when I opened my eyes she was sitting in the chair beside me, flipping through a People magazine. Evan told me she had a minor concussion, so I wasn’t surprised to see the bandage on her forehead, but the black eye was a shock.

I cleared my throat, which was still swollen from the tube the doctors had jammed down it.

“Nice shiner.”

She smiled at me. “Beats yours.”

I smiled back. “I like purple, makes my eyes look greener.”

We laughed, but then I groaned.

“Stop, that hurts.” Our eyes met and our last moment with Billy surrounded us. She shifted her weight in the chair.

“The stuff I said…” She cleared her throat. “I didn’t mean it.”

“Yeah, I know. But our relationship does kind of suck.”

Anger flashed in her eyes, but I held up a hand.

“I overreact and I have a temper.” I took a deep breath, which made me cough, which hurt like hell. Melanie handed me my water. After I took a sip I said, “And you’re right, sometimes I judge you. But I’m just jealous because of how Dad treats you.”

“Well, don’t be, because he’s embarrassed I turned out to be such a disappointment. He’s always going on about how well you’ve done for yourself. And he hates my boyfriend.” I’d never looked at it from her perspective before, never realized how much she also wanted Dad’s approval.

“You’re not a disappointment. But he does hate Kyle.”

She laughed. “It doesn’t help that he thinks Evan’s perfect. I know Kyle is different, but he’s fun and he makes me feel good. You’ve never tried to get to know him.”

“You’re right. But I will, okay?”

“Okay.” She smiled. “I don’t see us going on double dates, though.”

I laughed, then held my side and gritted my teeth. Once the pain had passed, I said, “You’re probably right, but you never know.” I touched her hand. “Hey, you know what? When you were really little I snuck into your room one night. I thought if I gave you away, Dad would love me. But I stayed in your room for hours watching you sleep.”

“You were going to give me away?”

I smiled at the expression on her face.

“The point is I decided to keep you. Thank God—or I’d be dead right now.”

She laughed. Then she rested her forehead on my hospital bed and started to cry.

“Oh, Sara, I thought you were dead. You passed out and I couldn’t get you to wake up. All I could think was that you were going to die believing I hated you.”

I patted the back of her soft hair. “I know you don’t hate me. And I don’t hate you either—even when you piss me off. Lauren says you and I are a lot alike and that’s why we fight so much.”

Melanie’s head popped up. “We’re not alike at all.”

“That’s what I said.” We eyed each other.

She said, “Oh, fuck.”

*   *   *

When Lauren brought me some clothes from the house, I filled her in about my visit with Melanie.

“I think we might be okay. I’m sure we’re still going to fight, but at least we’re talking about it now. I still wonder how John knew all that stuff about Ally, but I never really thought Melanie had anything to do with it and now I’m positive.”

Lauren turned away and started unpacking my bag.

“Evan should get you some herbal teas for when you get home.”

“Lauren?”

She continued unpacking. “Peppermint will help your stomach. And get some herbal cleansers from the health food store—they’ll help with the toxins.”

“Lauren, can you look at me for a minute?”

She turned around with a pair of my pants in her hands. I scanned her smiling face and her too-bright eyes. My stomach fluttered.

“Do you know something?” My voice was still raspy from the tube.

“About what?” Lauren’s wholesome face isn’t built for lies.

“What did you do, Lauren?”

She stood there a moment, then dropped into the chair beside my bed.

“I didn’t know it was him.”

“What happened?”

Her mouth turned down. “A man called and said he was from the newspaper and he was researching what children are interested in these days for an article. He said he got my name from a parent I know—Sheila Watson, she’s a neighbor—so I told him about the boys. Then he asked if they had any relatives, and when I said they had a cousin, he wanted to know what she liked. I told him, but when he kept on with more questions about Ally I asked his name again and he hung up. I told Greg about it and he said we shouldn’t say anything—it would just scare you.”

For the first time in my life, I wanted to hit Lauren.

“I can’t believe you didn’t tell me—especially after Evan was shot!”

“I didn’t know for sure if it was the Campsite—”

“Oh, right.” My face was hot. “You just didn’t want to say anything because you knew I’d be pissed off. He knew how to get to Ally!”

Lauren gnawed on her lip. “Greg said he would’ve done it no matter what. I feel horrible for telling him about Ally—he just sounded so nice.”

We were both quiet as I looked at her flushed face. Then something else clicked into place.

“Did you tell someone the Campsite Killer was my father? Is that how it got leaked?”

Her face was now scarlet. “Greg … sometimes he talks too much when he’s been drinking. He didn’t know one of the guys in camp was dating a reporter from that site, or he—”

“You told him, even though I asked you not to tell anyone, not even Greg? You started all of this?” I was gripping a magazine so hard the edge was cutting into my hand. Then I realized something else. “Wait a minute. Greg tells stupid jokes when he’s drunk, but he doesn’t gossip. He knew this could really mess up my life. Why would he let it slip?”

Lauren’s cheeks flushed again.

I stared hard at her. She looked away.

“Did he do this on purpose?”

Lauren still wasn’t looking at me and her face was desperate, like she wanted to say something but couldn’t. I didn’t believe this was a drunken blunder. Was Greg mad at me because he thought Lauren had talked to me about his drinking? No, that wasn’t it, she was too loyal and he knew it. There had to be some other reason—or person.

I felt my way slowly. “Was he trying to embarrass Dad?”

Now Lauren met my eyes and I had my answer.

“That’s it?” I wasn’t sure what hurt more: that Greg threw me under the bus to get at Dad or that he knew I was the way to do it.

“I think so.” Her voice was resigned. “He swears he didn’t know about the reporter. But he was so mad when Dad promoted the other foreman.…”

“You sat there listening to Dad give me a hard time and your husband leaked it?”

Lauren’s eyes filled with tears. “I’m so sorry—”

“Damn right you should be sorry.” I was breathing fast, which was sending stabbing pains through my ribs, but I was too pissed off to care.

She said, “I tried to tell you a couple of times, but I was worried Greg would lose his job and Dad would be mad and—”

“Treat you like crap?”

“He’s the only father I have.”

“He’s the only one I have too, Lauren.”

Lauren stared at the blanket on my bed and her face turned sad.

“I know things were different for you,” she said. “It’s not right how he treats you.”

I was silent, all my angry words dying in my throat.

“I’m sorry. I never stuck up for you when we were growing up. None of us did.”

Now I was the one crying. “You were just a kid.”

“But I’m not now.” She took a deep breath. “I’ll tell Dad.”

“He’ll fire Greg.”

“I’m tired of hiding. I have to make some changes in my life. You’re more important—you’re my sister.” Her eyes met mine. “I just want you to be happy.”

“I am happy.” And then I realized I was. I had everything I needed.

*   *   *

My last visitor in the hospital was the last person I expected to see. As I flipped through channels on the TV, there was a light rap on the door. I glanced over, thinking it was one of the nurses, and saw Julia standing there. She looked elegant in a white linen pantsuit. She also looked really uncomfortable.

“May I come in?”

It took me a moment to find my voice.

“Sure, of course.” I clicked off the TV. “Have a seat.” I nodded to the chair beside the bed, but she moved to stand near the window. She fiddled with one of the flowers in the vase, plucking a petal off and rolling it in her fingers. Finally she turned and said, “I haven’t spoken to you since you killed him.…” Her voice drifted off and I fought the urge to fill in the silence. Why are you here? Are you happy he’s dead? Do you still hate me?

“I wanted to thank you,” she said. “I can sleep now.” Before I could respond she met my eyes. “Katharine’s moved out.”

Not sure why she was sharing this, I said, “I’m sorry.”

Her face turned reflective. “It was easy to blame everything wrong in my life on him.”

“What he did was—”

“He’s gone now. And I see now, things I’ve done—what it did to people around me. How I pushed them away.…” Her eyes fixated on the photo on my side table. “Is this your daughter?”

“That’s Ally, yes.”

“She’s very pretty.”

“Thanks.” She was still staring at the photo when my mom came into the room with the coffee I’d asked for a few minutes ago. When she saw Julia she startled.

“Oh, I’m sorry. I’ll come back.”

“It’s fine, Mom. Please stay.”

Julia’s face flushed and she gripped her purse. “I should go.”

I said, “Wait a second. Please.” She stiffened. “Julia, I’d like you to meet my mother, Carolyn.”

Mom looked from Julia to me and her face lit up. I gave her a smile, my eyes telling her everything I wanted to say. She smiled back.

She turned to Julia and reached out her hand. I held my breath. Julia extended hers. Mom held it for a moment with both of her hands and said, “Thank you for giving her to us.”

Julia blinked a couple of times, but she said, “You must be proud. She’s a brave young woman.”

“We’re very proud of Sara.” Mom smiled and my throat tightened.

Julia said again, “I should go.” She turned to me. “I still have my father’s woodworking tools. When you’re better you can come have a look if you like. There might be something you want.”

“Sure. That would be great.” I was as surprised by the offer as I was by the fact that my creative side might not have come from John after all.

She nodded briskly and strode out of the room.

Mom looked at me and said, “She seems nice.”

I raised an eyebrow. “Really?”

“She comes across a little angry. But she reminds me of your father.”

“How are you seeing that?”

“They act angry when they’re scared.” She settled into the chair by my bed. “Do you know your father stayed by your side all last night while you slept?” She smiled, then looked back at the door Julia had just exited. “You have her hands.”

*   *   *

Yesterday I was making Ally breakfast and just as I served her pancakes with extra blueberries and whipped cream—I’ve been spoiling the heck out of her—I moved too fast. Ally saw me wince.

“Poor Mommy. What cheers you up when you’re sick?”

“You cheer me up.”

She rolled her eyes. “It’s a joke.”

My heart started to flutter.

She said in a singsong voice, “What cheers you up when you’re sick?”

I played along.

“Pickles?”

“A get wellephant card!” She dissolved into giggles.

“Where did you hear that joke?”

“I don’t know.” She shrugged her little shoulders. “I like jokes.” She grinned with her gap-toothed smile, and I wanted to tell her those jokes were silly. I wanted to take any part of John that’s in her and pull it out. But as I watched her take a big bite of her pancake, her face still in smiles, I thought about a father who didn’t let his little boy tell jokes.

“I like them too, Ally.”