Part 44 (1/2)

'I've been wrong many times, but not about Mark. Trusting someone doesn't necessarily make you a fool, Detective.'

'I'll try to remember that,' Cab said.

He heard a whistle and saw that the belly of the ferry was empty. One journey was done; the next was in waiting. Hilary Bradley turned on the engine of her car, and he could see in her face the same impatience he felt. To finish the ride. To be home where you belonged with the ones you loved. He envied her for having things in her life he was just beginning to find.

'I have to go,' she said, extending a hand through the window. He shook it. Her grip was firm, but her skin was soft.

'Good luck in all things, Mrs Bradley.'

'Thank you, Detective. The same to you.'

She drove on to the ferry, and Cab returned to the Corvette. He gunned it and headed south without a backward look at the water and the island. He had a long drive ahead through the small towns of Door County, but it was a perfect day to travel back to reality. He could drive as fast or as slow as he liked on the empty roads. For the first time in a long time, he felt as if there was no one chasing him.

Even so, he had somewhere to go, and he was anxious to get there.

Hilary broke through the trees on to Schoolhouse Beach behind their house. Mark was waiting for her. So was Tresa, sitting on a bench beside him, her red hair tied in a ponytail. Suns.h.i.+ne spilled across the expanse of the horseshoe bay and left it flecked with gold. The season was still too early for tourists, and they had the rocky stretch of sh.o.r.eline all to themselves.

When the two of them saw her at the crest of the slope, Tresa ran. Mark lingered on the bench by himself, letting the girl go first. Tresa greeted Hilary with a huge smile and threw her arms around her in a hug that seemed impossibly strong for her skinny arms.

'I'm so glad you're safe,' Tresa whispered.

'Me, too.'

'Mark told me you were coming home today. I really wanted to stay and see you.'

'I'm glad you did.'

Tresa leaned in, hugging her as fiercely as before. When she let go, she ducked her head into her neck. 'I'm so sorry about Jen. I mean Katie. I should have done something. I should have told someone about the fire.'

'You were a kid back then, Tresa,' Hilary said.

'I still feel like a kid.'

'You're not.'

'Mark thinks I am.'

Hilary didn't answer, and Tresa bit her lip and shoved her thumbs in the pockets of her jeans. 'Well, I'll leave you guys alone.'

The teenager brushed past her, but Hilary stopped her with a hand on her shoulder. 'Tresa, wait. There's something else.'

'What is it?'

'You did a brave thing by coming here that night like you did. You risked your own life. Thank you.'

'I couldn't let anything happen to Mark,' she said.

'I know that, and I'm grateful,' Hilary went on, 'but I also have to tell you something. Woman to woman.'

Tresa hesitated. 'OK.'

'You can't spend any more time alone with my husband,' Hilary said.

Tresa's eyes widened. 'What?' I mean, yeah, I - I understand. I'm sorry. He told you what happened, huh?'

'Of course he did.'

'I'm really sorry.'

'Girl crushes don't bother me, Tresa, but you're not a girl anymore.'

She nodded. 'Sure. You're right.'

'It doesn't mean we never want to see you again.'