Two months later
Sam
SAM PARKED IN the gravel lot outside the Walshes’ two-storey colonial farmhouse in Uthisca. She sat in her Grand Am, inhaling the scent of fresh leather from the burgundy car seats. It had taken nine weeks, but her mechanic had restored every original feature of her classic car. If only it was that easy to fix broken relationships.
She stepped out, wiped a speck of dust off the shiny black hood, and strolled over to where Eli was holding court. Harry Walsh had his hands on his hips, shaking his head with a bemused expression. Danny’s black hair was short now, with wispy bangs and auburn highlights. The new style suited her round face. Rather than her usual attire of baggy pants and loose sweatshirts, she wore fitted jeans and a teal sweater. She was smiling at Bart, an expression Sam had never seen on the grumpy girl’s face.
“Do you know what this kid did?” Harry pointed at Eli.
“He bought Bueton Sanctuary and is starting a horse ranch for kids with Asperger syndrome,” she said.
“Yes, but he tore down all the buildings.” Harry blew out his breath in an exaggerated sigh. “He claims I told him to.”
“Dad made a joke about a fresh start.” Margaret kissed Eli’s cheek. “My baby took it literally.”
Eli blushed and put his arm around Margaret’s shoulder.
Sam turned to Bart. “How are you?”
He shrugged. “I quit school and moved home. I’m working with Eli’s contractor.” He waved at the chaos across the street. “Being outside is easier,” he said. “Talking to Danny is helping. She was a victim of a violent crime, too, and went through hell in her childhood.”
“Have you heard from Gavin?” Sam asked.
“He moved home to Halifax but he invited us to a launch party for his band’s new EP. It’s at a club in Toronto,” Bart said. “Eli and Margaret want to go. I don’t know. Seeing him again will be hard.”
She squeezed his hand. “Did you go to Angelina’s funeral?”
Bart shook his head. “Her parents had a private ceremony. They aren’t doing well.” He glanced at the backdoor. “Reece is inside. I hope you guys work things out.”
Since the hospital had discharged him, Reece had lived in Uthisca with the Walsh family. Sam understood his anger and disappointment. But eight weeks of intense therapy had taught her to confront her fears. The first step had been talking to police. Facing Reece was the second. She was saving the hardest task for last.
She climbed the stairs to the wrap-around porch, took a calming breath, and opened the screen door to the kitchen.
Reece glanced up from a paperback novel. “Hi.”
Her heart skipped when she saw him but she couldn’t tell from his blank expression if he was pleased to see her.
“The cast is off,” she said. “How are you feeling?”
Reece rotated his wrist. “It’s coming along.” He patted his chest. “It’s easier to breathe.”
The low-calibre bullet had hit a rib, passed through the top of Reece’s right lung, and lodged in his shoulder muscle. The EMS team had kept Reece alive until the MedEvac chopper reached the hospital. In the waiting room, Sam had sat shaking and terrified, reading everything she could find online about stapled pulmonary tractotomy. When the cardiothoracic surgeon had told her that Reece was doing well in recovery, she’d finally given herself permission to cry.
As he’d healed, and the two of them had begun to talk about what had happened, Reece had made clear to Sam that he couldn’t reconcile the choice she had made in the cellar. She had murdered an unarmed suspect in cold blood. Her vigilante actions went against his core values. And so he’d left her.
She twisted the diamond engagement ring around her finger. “May I sit?”
He nodded.
“I met with Gretchen Dumont and Bryce Mansfield this morning at police headquarters,” she said. “I confessed everything.”
“What’s going to happen?”
She shrugged. “Undecided. Bryce feels there are extraordinary circumstances and duress. Gretchen wants to speak with the Attorney General before deciding whether to prosecute. Part of the issue is the sworn testimony Gavin, Bart, and Eli gave. My confession calls their veracity into question. They stated unequivocally that Aleksia had the gun when I killed her.”
Reece sighed. “What a mess.”
“Bart and Gavin have suffered so much,” she said. “If the justice system rolls over them because of me…” she trailed off.
“It’s not black and white. I understand that now.” He reached his hand across the table. “But the truth is always the right road. I’m proud of you.”
“I want you to come home,” she said.
He dropped her hand. “Incubus won’t stop coming after you.”
“I know, and someone is still helping him on the outside. I received a dozen white lilies two days ago.” She sighed. “But my fixation with the lily wasn’t about the flower’s symbolism to Incubus,” she said. “It represented my own guilt over Joyce’s death. To be free of Incubus, I have to let my sister go. I can do that now.”
“I have to tell you something.” Reece folded his hands on his book. “I drugged your hot chocolate the night before Brandy died. That’s why you didn’t wake when she was in distress.”
“Yeah, I figured it out a few days later,” Sam said. “Waking earlier wouldn’t have saved Brandy. She was old and had advanced liver disease.”
“I was worried about you and wanted you to sleep,” Reece said. “But it was deceitful and I’m sorry.”
“I know.” She circled the table, cupped his face, and kissed him lightly on the lips. “You are the best part of me. Please fight for us.”
He dropped his eyes and was silent. Her therapist had warned her not to push him. Swallowing a lump in her throat, Sam lightly squeezed his shoulder and left, quietly closing the door behind her.
In her car, she tried to steady her shaking hands. The next task was the most important to her recovery.
The April sky was cloudy but it was warm. She lowered her windows and drove along the lake to the city of Burlington. She checked the address on the GPS and pulled into the long driveway of a sprawling waterfront ranch. On the lawn, Leo and a woman she didn’t recognize sat on a blanket with a baby. The woman glanced at the vintage car with a curious expression. Leo said something to her and came to greet Sam.
“Hi.” She embraced her brother-in-law in an awkward hug. “Congratulations on your marriage. I’m sorry I didn’t attend the wedding. Mother said it was lovely.”
His eyes were sad. “It’s good to see you.”
She held out a brown envelope. “It’s the deed to the Muskoka cottage, and the keys. I want you to have it.”
He took a step back. “I can’t accept.”
“You can. It’s what Joyce would have wanted.”
“She wanted you to be happy,” Leo said. “That’s all she ever wanted.”
Sam’s eyes strayed to Leo’s baby girl. Hannah Morgenstern had confirmed that no pregnancy hormones had been present during Joyce’s autopsy. Aleksia had baited her. And Incubus had succeeded in manipulating her into committing murder. It had all been a twisted game to prove his superiority and force his adversary to destroy her own life. In some macabre co-dependant relationship with her stepfather, Aleksia had sacrificed her life to the cause.
“Please take the cottage,” Sam said. “To move on, I need you to have it.”
Leo’s eyes filled with tears but he accepted the envelope. “Would you like to meet my wife and daughter?”
She shook her head. “Another time, I promise.”
“I have something for you,” he said. “Can you wait a minute?”
She nodded and he jogged to the house. A minute later, he returned and handed her a stamped envelope, addressed to Sam in Joyce’s neat writing.
“It was the letter she went out to mail. It was in her car. I wanted to give it to you earlier, but I didn’t know how,” he said.
“Thank you.”
“I live that terrible night over and over,” Leo said with a sob. “If only I hadn’t let her go out alone.”
“Be happy, Leo” she said. “Love your wife and daughter. That’s the best way to honour my sister’s memory.”
* * *
SAM DROVE TO a park by the lake and opened her sister’s letter.
Dear Sam,
You won’t answer my calls or emails so snail-mail is my last option. I am so sorry for what happened at Mother’s and the terrible things I said to you. Mother is wrong. Dad would have stood by your side when you left Toronto Police Service. You are a remarkable woman and more resilient than I could ever be. You have risen above adversity and emerged stronger. Whatever the world throws at you, you face it with your head high. I often forget that you hold your pain tight inside your heart. You’ve always been so afraid to show weakness or vulnerability. I want so much for you to be at peace and to find the love you deserve. I haven’t been the best big sister. But I do love you with all my heart. You are my annoying little sister with the huge green eyes and the crop of strawberry curls. Life never turns out the way you hope as a child, but with strength, there is endurance and the assurance that life will never break you. No matter what, I’ll always be your sister.
Love Joyce
The clouds parted and a beam of afternoon sun hit the still water of Lake Ontario. Against the horizon was the faint outline of a rainbow.
Sam tucked the letter into her pocket. “Goodbye, Joyce. Pat Brandy for me.”