Part 59 (2/2)

”He's gone, Emma.”

”Then I'll go to heaven too, and take care of him.”

”No.” Fear clutched in his gut, drying his tears. His fingers dug into

her shoulders, putting bruises on her for the first time. ”You can't. I

need you, Emma. I can't get Darren back, but I won't lose you.”

”I hate G.o.d,” she said, dry-eyed and fierce.

So do I, Brian thought as he gathered her close. So do I.

THERE wo BEEN OVER a hundred people in and out of the McAvoy house on

the night of the murder. Lou's pad was overflowing with names, notes,

and impressions. But he was no closer to an answer. Both the window

and the door of the boy's room had been found open, though the nanny was

adamant that she had closed the window after putting the boy to bed. She

also insisted the window had been locked. But there had been no signs

of a forced entry.

There had been footprints beneath the window. Size 11, Lou mused. But

there had been no impressions in the ground a ladder would have made,

and no traces of rope on the windowsill.

The nanny was little help. She'd awakened when a hand had clamped over

her mouth. She'd been blindfolded, bound, and gagged. In the two

interviews Lou had had with her, she'd changed her estimate of the time

she'd been bound from thirty minutes to two hours. She was low on his

lists of suspects, but he was waiting for the background check he'd

ordered.

It was Beverly McAvoy that Lou had to see now. He'd postponed the

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