No. No again.
But she knew. She knew what the trucker had described was what she had seen when she identified Peter’s body. She knew exactly how Lori would look. Because she knew it was Lori, and all she could do was fold her arms around her ribs and let the tears run down her cheeks until the mindless horror began to pass.
Then the thinking came. The cold, cruel logic that followed blind emotion.
Lori was dead. Had been murdered, just as Peter had been. Her body ripped and torn as if by an animal. An animal that no longer existed on this prairie—except now, and only in one distinct form.
And the murder had happened here, in this small, sleepy town. Here, where Lori had rejected Kieran, calling him a monster.
The body had been found just after dawn. And Kieran had not come back.
Alex stood. She walked carefully to the window and opened the curtains, letting the sun strike her face until the light brought new tears to her eyes. Gradually her heart began to function as more than a vessel for pumping blood. Slowly the ice began to thaw.
It had happened again. Again she faced what she’d faced in Minnesota. She had made this decision before. She’d believed herself certain then.
Certain that Kieran was not a killer, a beast, a monster. And now…
Alex closed the curtains and went to the bed. She stroked the faded bedspread. Two nights ago she’d given herself to Kieran. Not only her body, but her heart. And he had given her back all she’d lost of herself since her childhood. After so much wasted time she knew who she was.
And she knew who he was. What he was. He was good, and brave, and kind. He was her lover, who saw only beauty in her face. He had risked his own life to save that of a child. He was strong in the finest way—strong enough to battle his own demons and not let them destroy him. He was her beloved.
Kieran was not a killer.
But he had run. She was sure of it. He had not returned because he’d learned of the murder somehow, and would not have been able to absolve himself of the possibility, the terrible chance that he might have truly turned monster.
And you would not come near me again, would you? You’d fear for me. You’d never take the risk. How can I know you so well, Kieran, when for so long I didn’t know myself?
He didn’t have anywhere to run but the same place they’d been heading—British Columbia. She’d told him about Lovell, what little Julie had revealed. There was still a goal, and Kieran would let his instincts guide him when he had nothing else to believe in.
Alex caught up a handful of the bedspread and clutched it tight. I’ll believe for both of us, as you believed for me. As you saw the beauty in me. And I’ll find you, Kieran. I’ll find you, and together we’ll discover the truth.
The most obvious truth came over her as suddenly as an unexpected chill. Kieran hadn’t killed Peter or Lori, but someone had. Someone who had the same pattern, who left the same marks on his victims. Someone who had chosen the very woman whom Kieran had tried to help.
Someone who had been in Minnesota, and now might be here.
Alex glanced at the clock. There was nothing more she could do for Lori. The police would connect Lori to the motel, and to her and Kieran, soon enough if they hadn’t already. She couldn’t talk to the police. Not yet. Not while Kieran was on the run.
But Lori’s sister would have to know what had happened. And Kevin. Kevin had someone to look after him, but he had lost so much.
Alex mourned as she got into the truck and pulled onto the westbound expressway. She drove through a blur| of tears until she found another gas station with a phone booth. She dialed Lori’s sister’s number and heard the drone of an answering machine’s mechanical voice. In a monotone she left a message asking Cass to call the authorities in Saskatchewan and hung up, sick with sorrow.