By six the next morning, Jane had loaded up her backpack and taken it down to her car, paid the motel bill, and was standing in front of Guthrie’s room, knocking on his door. It took him nearly a full minute to answer. When he did, he looked tousled and sleepy, his robe loosely tied around his waist. He put a finger to his lips. “Kira’s inside. She’s still asleep.”
Jane was happy to hear that’d they’d been able to spend the night together. “Everything okay with you two?”
“More than okay.”
She smiled. “I’m leaving, driving back to Minneapolis.”
“So early? I though we could have breakfast together—the three of us.”
“I dug my Honda out of the snow last night. Had to leave your car in the lot behind Kevin’s bar.”
“Kira can drive me over.”
She reached inside her coat and drew out Walt Olsen’s letter. “I have something for you.”
“What is it?”
“Proof that Kevin murdered his wife. Turns out, Walt Olsen left a letter. He told his daughter about it just before he died. She said she read it, thought about burning it—or turning it over to the police—but couldn’t make a decision, so she gave it to me yesterday. It details everything that happened the day of Delia’s death. The cover-up. What Walt did. What Brian Carmody did.”
Guthrie stared at it as if he’d just been handed the holy grail. “We should take this to the police.”
“Should we? Have you thought about the ramifications? Everyone in the Adler family, and that now includes Kira, is part of a cover-up. They could all do jail time.”
He wiped a hand across his mouth. “I’ve thought about all that. I don’t think anything serious would happen to Kira. She hasn’t known that long.”
“For your sake and for hers, I hope that’s true.”
“I mean … a murder was committed.”
“That’s right.”
“Kevin should pay for what he did.”
Everyone, thought Jane, had been doing nothing but paying since the day Delia died. “If that’s what you believe, then turn it over to the police. But before you do, let me go home and write up my notes. You need the full story. In fact, I could come in right now and tell you both everything.”
“No,” he said quickly. “I need this time with Kira.”
“Fine. You should have my report in a couple of days.”
His eyes narrowed. “What are you really saying to me?”
“I’m saying that … that you hired me to do a job. I did it, and this information is what I was able to dig up. It’s up to you to decide what to do with it.”
“You’re passing the buck, just like Walter’s daughter.”
“Apparently I am.”
“That’s not fair.”
She put her hand on his shoulder. “Oh, Guthrie, if you want fair, you’re going to have to find yourself another planet.” She stuck out her hand. “Good luck.”
He shook it, and then said, “Thanks, Jane.”
The last thing she wanted for presenting him with that letter was thanks. As she walked back down the hallway, she couldn’t help but think about Kevin, about the entire Adler family, and what kind of horror one tragic decision could create. All she wanted for herself right now was to get the hell out of the peace and safety of small-town America with some part of her heart and soul intact.
* * *
On her way out of town, Jane stopped at a QuikTrip. She needed to fill the gas tank, and also clean the CR-V’s windows. As she worked, she hummed a particularly bad rendition of Three Dog Night’s Joy to the World.
Walking around inside the store, she found a section of sweets that looked like they might be homemade. A chocolate-frosted Rice Krispies bar caught her attention. After grabbing a cup of coffee, she moved up to the cash register and handed the man behind the counter her credit card.
“Beautiful day,” he said. “Blue skies and no snow in the forecast.”
“It’s warmer, too,” said Jane. “At least, warmer than it has been the last few weeks.”
“Not really.” His hand hovered above the card reader, waiting for it to print a receipt. “It’s been pretty much in the high twenties and low thirties. We won’t even make it out of the teens today.”
“Huh,” said Jane, signing the receipt.
“Drive safe,” said the man, handing Jane her card.
Back in her car, she set the coffee in the cup holder and the Rice Krispies bar on the dashboard. She adjusted her sunglasses as she gazed up at the intense cobalt sky. She had no intention of sleeping at Cordelia’s house tonight. After rounding up her dogs, she would spend her first night in weeks back in her own bed.
She started the engine. The heat flooding from the vents felt almost too warm. Easing out of the front seat, she took off her sheepskin jacket and tossed it across to the passenger’s side. And then she climbed back in, put on her seat belt and smiled.
She was going home.