“Fiona must have messed around with the security system as well, so it wouldn’t record her leaving the house,” I mutter.
Erika nods slightly. “We gave Fiona the rest of the money we’d earmarked for David, along with the fresh start she wanted. People don’t look for the dead like they do the living, and Fiona would most certainly be presumed dead. We got what we needed out of the deal, too—freedom from David, and from a past that’s been haunting us since we were kids.”
I’m stunned, unable to move, my brain rushing to make sense of this intricate web of deceit.
“The police will want to speak to all of us,” Erika says, wringing her hands. “Izzy, I know what you heard tonight is incredibly painful, but Rick and I have been talking, and we’d like you to consider something. We have no right to ask anything of you, I realize that, but…”
Erika’s anxiety makes me uneasy. I have no idea what’s coming. I’m glad Julia’s here. She puts her arm around me, while coolly assessing her friends. I can’t speak. I don’t really know how to address my aunt’s killer, but Erika doesn’t wait for my invitation.
“David’s going to tell the police that I killed Susie. If that’s corroborated, he will walk. He’ll probably get a light sentence for threatening us with a gun, and the rape charges will never resurface. He’ll pay no real price for his crimes. But if it’s just our word against his, with the evidence we planted, he will likely go to jail, for Fionaandfor Susie. The police don’t have to know that Fiona’s alive. We can all deny that I made my confession, deny all ofDavid’s allegations. And when they match the bullet they recovered from Susie’s body to the gun in David’s possession, you can finally have some justice for your aunt. He might not have pulled the trigger, but hedidrape her, and he set everything in motion that led to her death. She’s gone, while he’s continued to live a life of privilege and exploitation.”
Rick steps forward. He looks broken. This tough, manly man is a shell of himself. “I know it’s a lot to ask, but now you have the truth. It’s up to you what you do with it.”
I look to Julia for guidance, but her eyes are veiled. I get the sense she’s giving me the space to decide for myself. It’s my call.
As if on cue, I see Detective Baker heading over. Her complexion is ashen and her expression grim. She might be a rugged Vermonter, but she’s human and has her limits.
“Heck of a night,” she says.
Is she competing for the Understatement of the Year Award?
“Yeah,” is all I can think to respond.
“I heard you put yourself in front of that rifle, Izzy… that must have been terrifying.”
“Actually, for once I wasn’t afraid,” I say.
“David is telling us an interesting story,” she says, diving right in. Her eyes, like two stones, are fixed on Rick and Erika. “He seems to think the bones we have belong to Susie Welch, Izzy’s aunt. And that you, Erika, shot her with your father’s handgun, which you then planted in David’s house for us to find. He also believes that Fiona is alive and well, that you and she orchestrated her disappearance to make him look guilty of her murder.” Baker sends them a thin smile.
“I’ve been a cop for a long time, and I can’t say I’ve heard a tale as wild as this one,” she declares, clearing her throat. “Bottom line is, I’ve got a job to do—and I need to confirm if what David is saying is true. What’s your side of this story?”
Erika and Rick’s pleading eyes are on me. I sense an earnest desperation that’s hard to resist.
Their words run through my head. This could be my one and only chance for justice. David has the money to buy himself out of trouble. Maybe he’ll serve some time, but not much. Erika is right. If he didn’t assault my aunt, Susie would be alive today. How dare he walk away with only a slap on the wrist?
Julia says nothing. Maybe she would keep the lie going—David has caused so much harm—or perhaps she’d come clean eventually. But for right now, the choice is mine to make: live or die, thumbs up or thumbs down. I am the emperor at the Colosseum with the power to decide one man’s fate.
It’s not lost on me how Lucas will grieve. And Taylor will ache for Lucas, which will cause Julia and Christian to suffer alongside her. We are all links in some amazing chain. It’s not like David’s gold chain. This one you can’t see or necessarily feel, but it’s wrapped around us nonetheless. These links go back days, years, even generations, intertwining our lives. Our actions have consequences; our words matter, connecting us in unexpected and profound ways.
I’ll never know the exact repercussions of my decision, how many lives I’ll impact, or whose trajectory I’ll forever alter.
“And the truth will set you free,” I say to Erika, using her own words against her. She looks at me with such vulnerability that I almost break. Almost. But no. I cannot.
“I came here for the truth,” I tell Detective Baker. “I came to find out what happened to Susie. I came here for my mother. I know how lies can destroy lives, and I can’t be a part of that. If I’m going to investigate anything, it has to be with integrity.
“What David said is true. Those bones belong to my aunt Susie. Erika shot and killed her thirty years ago. It was an accident. I know she’s sorry. Rick helped to cover it up. And her father, Cormac Gallagher, was a gangster who murdered Anna Olsen because she threatened to expose him. I have the proof. And there’s more…”
The wind howls. A lone owl announces its presence from anearby shadowed tree. But I hear something else, a sound like no other: a soft clink of a hammer on steel, the blacksmith at work, forging a new link in my ethereal chain, one that binds me to Lake Timmeny, now and forever.
Chapter 47
Julia
An ominous, empty feeling had replaced the comfort and familiarity of the lake house, like a hole where a tooth had been extracted—something you obsessed over once it was gone. Julia was grateful she had Nutmeg by her side. The dog was her loving companion—a warm, reliable presence in her otherwise upside-down world.
Izzy had left by bus days ago and, through text messages, Julia learned she and her mother were doing well. Their reunion had been tearful but healing. She had told Julia about her hopes of starting a true crime podcast, which she would produce only with her mother’s blessing.
Julia sipped hot herbal tea from the screened-in porch, peering at the lake through David’s glass house. A swath of moonlight illuminated a patch of water as smooth as an ice rink. There was hardly a breeze. Sunset had been hours ago, yet the nighttime air carried the lingering remnants of the day’s humidity. All signs of the season were on full display. Yet it was a summer unlike any Julia had ever known.
