ALLISON
Duke stood up, brushing himself off. He looked surly in his stupid windbreaker, a pair of sunglasses tucked on top of his thick head. “I believe you pushed me in the bushes, Allison. I wasn’t spying, for Christ’s sake. I was just coming around to see if you were out back.”
“So after you left me your little package, you decided to make a house call?” I was practically spitting my words at him. Of all the people to have turned up, he was the last one I’d have suspected.
“Package?” Duke picked a piece of bark out of his jacket hood and tossed it down. “I just wanted to talk to you for a minute. Can I come in?”
“Absolutely not. What are you doing here anyway?” Had he been taunting me this whole time? Leaving me messages just to mess with my head a bit further? Everything that had happened hadn’t already been enough?
“Allison, what the hell are you talking about? I just wanted to talk for a minute and here you are tackling me and accusing me of threatening you? Jesus, this is worse than I thought.” It was that condescending tone I remembered all too well. When he’d wanted me to seem crazy, irrational, after all his disgusting lies.
“Then why are you here? Don’t tell me you drove all the way up here to check on my mental health in a bout of holiday generosity.”
“Maron’s family lives a few miles—”
“You know what, just go away.” I pushed past him to the front of the house. Sure enough, the white box was still there on the mat. My heart leaped. I wasn’t crazy.
“Jesus Christ, Allison. You asked.”
I stepped onto the porch, grabbed the bag of coffee and slid the white box in my coat pocket. I tried to unlock the door quickly, but Duke followed, stuck his big arm in the way. I glared at him. “Get out of here. Now.”
“Allison. It’s like two degrees outside.”
“It’s actually nineteen degrees, with a windchill of ten.”
“Please. I just want to talk for a minute.”
“I’ll call the cops. I swear I will call the cops.” I circled to the back of the kitchen counter because I liked having that barrier between us.
Duke appeared unfazed, which made me even more irate. If the house impressed him at all, he didn’t say it. He shook his head. “Ally, they already think you’re loony.”
That stopped me. “Who?”
“My dad was at the boating association this weekend and he ran into Phillip Bishop.”
I crossed my arms in front of my chest to keep them from shaking. “So he’s been saying what? Or, should I ask, you’ve been saying what?”
“They say you’re going on about a woman who’s been missing? Some runaway from thirty years ago? Allison, it sounds crazy.” What was he talking about? Was that how I was coming off to people?
He started to walk toward me, and I pulled a knife out of the knife block. “Stay away from me.”
“You said you’re related to her? Do you realize how it sounds, Allison? Haven’t you done enough damage to yourself? I feel like I need to talk to Annie, or your parents, but I wanted to—”
“Don’t you dare.”
“I don’t want to,” he stressed, like I was a five-year-old he was trying to reason with. “I’m just worried about you.”
“You’re worried about me? Ha.” I stared at him with suspicion. “Since when have you worried about me? So kind of you to suddenly care after you went ahead and stuck your dick in another woman.”
He kept his cool. It was like shooting at a bulletproof vest. “Haven’t you already covered that territory on-air?”
“Not enough to keep you away from me, apparently.”
“You’ve ruined your life and my family’s reputation. Don’t go ruining other people’s lives, too.”
“Funny, your lives don’t look ruined at all to me. In fact, I’d say you’re doing just peachy. Maybe that’s how it goes for those who are willing to treat people like they are disposable?” I was shaking with anger now. “Like you thought our marriage—I—was disposable, right? And this girl, too? No one gives a shit what happened to her either, Duke.” I walked over to the door, opened it. “Now get out. Or I’ll call the police.”
“Allison—”
“Don’t Allison me. Get out, Duke. If I find you creeping around the bushes again, I’ll shoot you.”
He rushed past me, and I shifted so we wouldn’t touch. I waited until his car pulled away before breathing again.
I poured bourbon in a juice glass and sat down at the kitchen table until I stopped shaking. I set the box on the table.
Inside, cushioned on a bed of white fluff like it was an expensive piece of jewelry, was a dark brown chess piece.
A bishop.
A tiny folded piece of white paper was under it. I opened it to find a new message: “He killed her.”
My whole body tensed. Why would Duke—
But it couldn’t have been Duke, I realized. His car had been behind mine in the driveway. I’d watched him leave. He had arrived after I’d gotten back from the grocery store. No way he could’ve dropped that box, slipped around the house, gotten to his car parked somewhere else and driven up behind me that quickly.
No, this was someone else. The same person who’d sent me the necklace. Someone who wanted to make sure I knew that I was on the right track about Clay Bishop.
He killed her. A tremor went through me.
I called Tammy, but there was no answer. When her voice mail kicked in, I left her a short, quavering message. “I think it’s time we talk to your cop friend.”