41

CASEY

It’s been a long day at work, and Laura Daly’s plight has kept me constantly distracted. When I get off, I go straight to the Dotsons’ street and try to figure out a way to prove Laura’s been there.

When my phone rings, I see that it’s Miss Lucy. I answer quickly.

“Grace, thank heaven!” she says.

Miss Lucy sounds as if she’s been crying, and she speaks in a low voice, as though she doesn’t want to be overheard. “Miss Lucy? Is everything all right?”

“Grace, there was someone here asking about you just now.”

My breath catches. I start my car, alert now to anyone who might be watching me. “What? Who?”

“A man who told us that Grace is not your real name.” Her tone is flat, resigned.

I let out a miserable sigh. “Dylan Roberts?”

She’s silent for a moment, then she says, “Is it true, the things he said?”

I’m sunk. It’s over. I can’t go home now. “I don’t know what he said,” I tell her. “But it’s true that I’m hiding from the police.”

Lucy’s gasp is audible. “I couldn’t believe it! You killed somebody?”

“No, I didn’t!” I say. “Miss Lucy, you know I’m not the kind of person who could hurt anyone.”

“But you’re lying about who you are, where you came from. Tell me the truth. Were you lying about Laura too?”

“No, absolutely not! Miss Lucy, I heard her. I talked to her. That’s true. Please believe me.”

“How can I? Sandra’s devastated. She’s lost all hope.”

I lean my head back on the seat and close my eyes. “Miss Lucy, my father was murdered when I was twelve, by dirty cops. They made it look like a suicide. It’s haunted me for years, and my friend who was a reporter started investigating it and got too close to the truth. He wound up murdered too. I found his body, so my DNA is everywhere.”

Miss Lucy’s silent for a moment, taking it in. Her voice is more empathetic when she speaks again. “Then go back and tell them that. Hiding makes you look guilty. Take it from me, honey. There will be people who believe you.”

“Not if they kill me first. You don’t understand this kind of evil.”

“Honey, I’ve dealt with police. Most of them are honest. But if some are trying to kill you . . .” Her voice trails off. When she speaks again, her words are raspy. “I don’t know what to tell you, other than . . . I believe you.”

I press my fist against my forehead. “Miss Lucy, I want you to know that you’ve meant a lot to me. You’ve saved my life, given me a reason to live. I have lied to you, and you didn’t deserve that.”

Miss Lucy is weeping now. She steadies her voice and says, “Grace . . . Casey . . . whatever your name is . . . God can forgive you. He moved heaven and earth to make it possible to wipe your slate clean. He may not clear up all the charges against you, but he can heal your heart and help you through this. If you’ve ever listened to anything I’ve said, listen to that.”

“I am listening,” I say, my face twisted. “Thank you, Miss Lucy.”

I cut my connection to her and press the phone to my heart. Suddenly I miss my mom with an ache that cuts through my bones.

I start my car, crying and wondering if I should just turn around and drive out of town.

But what about Laura? I know Dotson has her. No one believes me.

I can’t stand the thought of Sandra weeping through the night, crushed that her last hope for Laura rested on the word of a liar. I have to fix it. I have to see this through. For Sandra and for Laura . . . but mostly for Miss Lucy, who still believes in me.

It starts to drizzle, and I look up to the heavens through my rain-streaked windshield. “God, if she’s right . . . if you’re there . . . if you care at all, then give me the courage to do what’s right.”

What a farce—praying to God to help you break a law! What am I thinking? But doesn’t God love Laura? Doesn’t he want her to be set free? Isn’t saving a kidnapped girl’s life the right thing?

I swallow my tears. “If you could just give me courage,” I plead again. My voice breaks off, and I hope this God of Miss Lucy’s can see through the mess of my heart and cut right to the motives. I want to save Laura, even if it means I can no longer save myself.

I don’t go home. I never can again. Everything in my apartment will have to be left behind. What little I’ve been carrying in my car will have to get me through.