‘Donna’s just texted,’ Claire says, voice thick and teary with relief. They’re on the 12-18, about five miles out from Cambridge. ‘She says the girls are fine, to come on over.’
‘Well then,’ Danny says. ‘That’s what we’ll do. And let’s hope the Madison police are nowhere near.’
‘They don’t know about Donna, do they?’
‘I don’t think anyone knows about Donna. Donna flies under the radar. I’m not even sure what name she calls herself these days.’
‘She went back to Brogan,’ Claire says.
‘Did she? How do you know?’
‘I saw some mail in her house when I dropped the kids off, a few months back. Funny thing was, she saw me notice it, and she kind of shrugged, and she said something pretty cool, or at least, I think it’s pretty cool now, at the time I don’t think I really got it.’
‘What did she say?’
‘She said, at a certain stage, you stop trying to be someone else. You’re who you are. You’re yourself, the sum total of all you’ve done and been all your life. And what you’ve got to do is, accept it. And you know something, Dan, that’s what I feel now. And one of the things I’m going to do, at last, maybe I’ve been running away from it, in denial or whatever they say, I’m going to look at my adoption papers. I’m going to find out who my birth parents were. Not saying I want to meet up with them or anything, that might be a whole other trip. But … just so I know. Because I am who I am. And it’s going to be all right.’
It’s never going to be all right, Danny thinks. He hasn’t told Claire any of it yet. The fact that Dave Ricks threw the fire bottle, not Danny. The fact that Dee is connected to Dave, used to be married to him. They have to be behind it all, the blackmail, the murder. They have to be behind it. But whatever they’re behind, they can’t change the facts. And the facts are, Claire’s birth certificate proves she was born Claire Bradberry. He has to tell her. He has to tell her now.
‘Claire, there’s something I need to say to you. About … about the Bradberry fire.’
‘The Bradberry fire? Wow. Which one was that again, where all the kids got killed?’
Which one was that again? He looks around at his wife, her innocent eyes shining now, this wife of his that he’s not even married to, and drinks in every detail. This may be the last time she ever smiles at him.
And then his phone rings. Does he answer it? Of course he does.
‘We know you didn’t kill anyone, Danny.’
‘I’m sorry? Who is this?’
‘Detective Nora Fox, Madison PD.’
‘Why didn’t you say so?’
‘I didn’t want you to hang up on me. When I say we know, I mean we have compelling evidence that the murders were carried out on behalf of Dave Ricks and Dee St Clair.’
‘That’s what I figured, except without much in the way of evidence.’
‘There’s an immediate danger to your own safety, and to that of your family, sir. There’s reason to suspect some attempt may be made to intercept you, or in some way harm you. You’re not considering a return to the house on Arboretum Avenue, are you? If you can let us know where you’re at, we can arrange officer escorts.’
‘That sounds serious.’
‘I believe it is serious.’
Danny considers, but still doesn’t fully trust the cops.
‘We’re fine, Detective. We’re all meeting up at my … the whole family’s meeting up.’
‘I want to urge particular caution in relation to fire, sir.’
‘Fire?’
‘Yes. You know of course that it’s the anniversary of the Bradberry fire tonight. We know that you, and Dave Ricks, and your other friends, including one of the deceased, Ralph Cowley, may have had some involvement with that incident.’
‘No comment.’
‘It’s not a reinvestigation of the Bradberry fire, sir. It’s, in the communications between Dave Ricks and Dee St Clair, several references are made to a blaze, to, if all the arrangements are correctly in place, a spectacular.’
A spectacular. The word sends a chill down Danny’s spine. That’s exactly what they called the Bradberry fire when they were planning it, back when it was a prank, before it became a catastrophe.
‘And there may be an element of revenge involved, sir. You see, there was one Bradberry child who escaped the inferno on that night in 1976. And we have conclusive proof that Dee St Clair was that child. Dee St Clair was born Claire Bradberry.’
‘No,’ Danny says. ‘No, that’s not true, I know that’s not true.’
‘It is true, sir.’
Danny is aware that Claire is watching him closely. He can’t stop now.
‘I’ve seen … documents … belonging to someone else. Stating that … someone else … is that person.’
‘Sir, Dee St Clair has been spying on you and your wife for many years now. She intercepts all of your emails, sometimes replying to them. It appears, as well as murder, she and Mr Ricks have been extorting money from you. It doesn’t seem beyond her to have forged a birth certificate or two, does it?’
Detective Nora Fox is asking again where Danny is headed as he closes the call, palms his phone and stares at the screen, smiling like a man who has forgotten how it’s done.
‘Who was that?’ Claire says.
‘Nobody,’ Danny says.
‘I see. And what did nobody want?’
‘Nothing.’
Danny reaches for Claire’s hand. She takes his and squeezes it.
Nobody wanted nothing. After all these years.
And in spite of all that’s happened and all that looms ahead, in spite of the danger and uncertainty, the heartache and the shame, Danny Brogan thinks that everything is going to be all right.