DAVID WAS SITTING UP IN BED READING THE PAPER WHEN SHE ENTERED, and Erin’s first impulse was to snatch it from his hands so he wouldn’t see the article with the headline QUESTIONS LINGER FOLLOWING DISCOVERY OF SECOND BODY—an article that all but accused him of being a mass murderer.
He looked up and smiled at her, though, as if all was right in the world. “Erin,” he said. He removed his reading glasses and placed them on top of the newspaper. “I was wondering when you might stop by. It’s good to see you.”
She stepped forward and wrapped her arms around him. “Dad . . . I was so worried about you.” She buried her face in the side of his neck, taking in the scent of him. He’d been in the hospital for almost a month, and still he smelled like hay and fresh-cut grass, and under that, the scent of their kitchen on summer mornings with the sun streaming through the window and eggs and bacon frying in the skillet.
“You brought something good to eat, I hope.”
“I can get you something,” she told him. “What do you want?”
“Let’s start with getting me out of here. You’ve got the getaway truck parked out front?”
“No passengers today,” she said. “I spoke with Dr. Houseman on my way in here. He wants to keep you in the hospital for one more day.”
“Mark Houseman lost two hundred bucks to me in a poker game six years ago. He sees this as a perfect opportunity to get it back.”
“He saved your life, you know. Up until a short time ago, you were on a ventilator.”
“That’s what they tell me. My nurse, Shelly, described it as”—he leaned over and glanced at a pad of paper on the bedstand—“‘circling the drain.’ ‘Mr. Reece,’ she said, ‘when they dragged you in here, you were circling the drain.’”
Erin shook her head. “You looked horrible. You should’ve gone to see Dr. Houseman sooner.”
“Nah, it’ll take more than that to do me in.” He coughed. “I’ve still got this lingering tickle in the back of my throat, though. Too much recycled hospital air, I think. It’ll feel good to get back out into the sunshine.”
Erin took a ratcheting breath and nodded, her smile fading. “You saw the newspaper article, I guess.”
“Yeah,” he said. “It’s amazing how they can get so much wrong in so few words. They spelled my name right, though. That’s gotta count for something.”
“This is serious. They could put you away for the rest of your life. Or worse,” she said. “As far as I know, Montana still has the death penalty.”
“The death penalty,” he said. “Now you’re talkin’.”
“Please don’t make light of it.”
“I’m not making light of it,” he told her. “It is ironic, though. They snatched me back from the brink of death just so they can kill me good and proper.”
She looked at him, and he looked back, his smile never faltering.
“What will you tell them?” she asked.
“The truth,” he said. “I murdered half the town and buried the bodies in my backyard.”
“Stop it.”
“What? That’s what they want to hear, don’t they?”
She took in a deep breath and let it out. “You think they won’t execute you or give you back-to-back life sentences?”
He shrugged. “Better me than somebody else. Besides,” he said, “the doc says I’ve got lung cancer. How much longer have I got to live anyway?”
Erin took a step back. “He told you?”
“Of course he told me. Like I said, he’s got a lousy poker face.”
She pulled the chair to the bedside and collapsed into it. “Damn it,” she said. “I wish he hadn’t . . . I wanted to be here when he told you.”
David reached out and took her hand. Even now, all these years later, her own hand looked like a child’s when it was enfolded in his.
“Don’t blame the doctor, honey,” he said. “I’ve been coughing up blood for a couple of months now. I figured it had to be something.”
She looked up at him, her eyes wide and disbelieving. “A couple of months, Dad? Why didn’t you go to see him sooner?”
David turned the newspaper over in his lap. “Why would I do that?” he asked. “I’ve been coughing up blood, Erin. You have a medical degree. What does that mean to you?”
“It could mean a lot of things. Not all of them are bad.”
He shrugged. “This one is. Lung cancer,” he said, shaking his head. “I’ve never smoked a day in my life. How’s that for a kick in the teeth?”
“There’s an oncologist down in Billings. Dr. Houseman said he’s—”
“Hold on a second,” he said, and he let go of her hand. “Oncologist? Who said anything about treatment?”
“Dad—”
“They’ll be coming for me, Erin, now that the bodies have been discovered. I asked about the cancer because I wanted to understand my time frame. I wanted to know if it was worth the fight.”
She groaned. “Stop talking as if it’s already over.”
“It is over,” he said. “It’s better this way. I killed those people. I deserve whatever punishment the justice system has in store for me. I’m glad it’s finally out in the open.”
“Dad. I can’t let you just—”
“Be quiet, child!” he exploded, and his glasses fell from the bed and clattered onto the tile floor. “I’ve made my peace with it, and you should, too. They’re going to bury me, Erin, one way or the other.”