64

Amherst, Massachusetts

“Ernest!” Bel leapt over the wrought iron fence of the Dickinson family plot, but he’d already released Salem. He appeared abashed more than anything, maybe for taking advantage of their concentration to sneak up on them.

Mercy stood next to her brother, her face red and swollen from crying. “He ran away,” she said.

“What?” Salem was trying to get her bearings. She brushed the grass and leaves off her knees, careful to hold the metal box steady.

Mercy pointed at her brother. “He shouldn’t have let those men take you.”

Bel scanned Salem to make sure she was all right. The juicy crescent moon broke free of its cloud cover and lit them from above, four lost souls in a Massachusetts graveyard. “It was a good idea to leave us,” Bel said, her focus still on Salem. “In fact, it was the best thing you two could have done. There was no point in all of us being arrested.”

“We have to go,” Ernest said. He hadn’t stopped surveying the dark corners of the cemetery. “This is the first place they’ll look for you.”

“He didn’t just want to leave you here.” Mercy continued, glaring at him despite the trembling in her thin shoulders. “He wanted to leave you forever. But I wouldn’t let him. I knew you’d come back.”

Ernest ducked his head, pulling his sister closer. “I’m sorry, but I gotta look out for Mercy. She’s my number-one priority, you know? But I’m here now, and it’s time to split.” He glanced uneasily toward the road. “There’s a sedan been driving by.”

“We have to replace the gravestone,” Salem said. “Put it back together as much as we can.”

Ernest made a frustrated noise. “There isn’t time!”

“It’s someone’s grave,” Salem insisted.

Bel hopped over the fence. “The sooner we do it, the sooner we can go. Trust me, you can’t change her mind when it’s made up.”

Salem flashed Bel a grateful smile, her grin widening as Ernest stepped over the fence to help Bel straighten the headstone’s cap. Salem threaded her hand through the fence and pushed the drawer back in. The “Gun” no longer blended in with the rest of the face, and the crack she’d widened with her penknife was glaring.

Bel glanced at it, hands on hips. “That’s the best we can do,” she said firmly, directing her words at Salem. “We have to go. Ernest, we’ll follow you.”

The two of them climbed back over the fence, and then all four jogged toward the northeast end of the cemetery, Ernest talking as they traveled. “I need to get rid of this car before we travel any farther. If the FBI knew enough to find you at this cemetery, they know what we’re driving.”

“But you just got it!” Salem objected.

“No choice.”

Salem cradled the box, breathless from running, but her words were clear. “Okay, but I need light, a computer, and WiFi. Now. We need to see what I pulled out of the gravestone.”