Chapter Thirty-Five #2
Sam really wanted to go home and crawl into bed and forget the past … forever. Instead, she was in an uncomfortable waiting room, leaning against Nate who had his arm around her.
At least there was that.
Landon had brought her snacks, and Aly had tried to talk her into eating, but Nate had just held on. It was all sweet, but the holding on was what really helped.
She’d spent just about every step of her life holding onto herself. It was the Price way.
The Price way had sucked. Obviously.
As far as Sam knew, Daryl Everly was at the hospital, still alive. So she hadn’t murdered anyone.
Yet.
Guilt wasn’t quite what she felt about it—at least in this moment of not knowing how he fared. She’d done what she had to do. There really hadn’t been another option except let him shoot someone who didn’t deserve it.
From the sounds of things they’d all heard, Daryl Everly deserved everything he got.
Still, there was a flicker of a worry, that whatever had broken inside her father last year that had led him to killing Sandy McCoy, was inside her too.
Nate’s arm around her tightened, like he read her thoughts and wanted to squeeze them away, when it was just happenstance because Jake had appeared and called Glenda back first.
Sam watched as Glenda went back with Jake. Then Jill. Followed by Cal. Sam didn’t really care for being left for last, but she understood that Glenda, Jill, and Cal all knew more than she did. She had just swept in and … done something.
She was dozing on Nate’s shoulder when Jake finally called her back. Exhaustion didn’t even begin to cover what she felt. Shaky. Light-headed. A little slap happy. But she got to her feet and followed Jake back to a room with a table and chairs.
Jake gestured to a seat.
She took it mostly because her legs felt like jelly. “So, going to arrest me?”
He spared her one disdainful look before he glanced down at what she assumed were his notes.
“I just need you to take me through what happened from your point of view before I arrived on the scene.”
Sam sighed. The past twenty-four hours had been a bit of a nightmare, and she wasn’t too keen on reliving any of it, but better to get it all out now while it was fresh than have to come back here and talk about it more later.
So she went through staying back when Cal went into the cabin, seeing Everly lead them out by gunpoint. Following them up into the state forest.
“He said he was going to kill one of them,” Sam explained. “I heard it plain as day. I had to shoot. I tried to aim for damage without fatality.” She still couldn’t decide how she’d feel about fatality.
Maybe she needed sleep before her mind could engage with that possibility.
Or maybe she was more like her father than she thought.
She shook away that terrible thought and tried to focus on Jake.
“I haven’t heard anything yet regarding his prognosis, so presumably he’s still kicking. Look, Sam, I’ll be honest. All the statements I’ve taken match yours. I doubt any charges will be filed, regardless of how he ends up.”
She hadn’t realized she’d been worried—unreasonably worried, but worried nonetheless—until he said those words and her shoulders finally relaxed. She’d known she was justified but hearing it from an actual cop helped accept it.
She wouldn’t be in jail with her murderer of a father. She was justified. Or something.
“What about everything he said to Glenda? You heard that right? About…” Sam trailed off, because it occurred to her a little belatedly that part of everything Daryl had said involved Jake’s dad. That it wasn’t just a case to him.
“Yeah, I heard,” Jake said flatly. “I also recovered the bag Everly had,” he said.
“Let’s just say for getting away with murder for twenty-five years?
He wasn’t very smart about it. There was an entire diary outlining him killing my father, convincing Gerald to call it an accident, then killing Gerald and convincing Glenda it was self-defense. In great detail.”
Sam wondered if that didn’t make sense because it didn’t or because her brain wasn’t firing on all cylinders. “Why would he do that?”
“I’ll let a psychiatrist determine that.” Jake shrugged. “If he survives, he’ll be arrested. His own words used against him. Including his involvement with the police officer who hung himself. Should be open and shut.”
“If he doesn’t survive?”
Jake looked at her. “Then he doesn’t,” he replied simply.
Sam managed a nod. She didn’t really know how she felt about that, but she supposed it was as simple as that. Either way, they all had the truth now.
“So, those hikers who found your father…”
Jake shrugged. “As far as I can tell? Happenstance. Really weird happenstance. But sometimes that happens.”
She nodded. It was true, and so much of this ended up connecting, it didn’t surprise her that one thing didn’t.
“That’s all I need from you tonight, Sam. You can all go now. Get some rest. You’ve had a hell of a few days.”
“Yeah. You too.” Sam got to her feet, but she paused because … well, she knew what it was like to have something you were so sure about turn out to be a lie.
She was all too familiar with the way old secrets could upend your present.
She couldn’t help that she had a soft spot for that. “Are you okay?”
Jake didn’t pretend to miss her meaning, but he didn’t meet her gaze. “He was dead no matter how. Murder doesn’t change anything.”
Sam knew that wasn’t true, even if he wanted it to be.
“But now you know someone else did it. That does change things for you. He didn’t die the way you thought all this time.
It matters.” She tried to think about what she would have needed to hear, but there were no magic words to make this better.
Still, sometimes … you just needed to know that. “You’re allowed to let that matter.”
Hayes looked up at her then. She thought she saw the flicker of something in his dark eyes, an emotion or reaction or something, but it was quickly gone. Schooled back into law enforcement stoic.
“I guess it does.” He got to his feet. “But he’s still dead either way. And has been for a long time. I’m not sure there’s much more grief to mine there. Maybe some anger, but if Everly survives, I’ll get a trial out of it, and if he doesn’t … well, good fucking riddance, huh?”
Sam managed a nod. Yes, she supposed that was a healthy enough way to look at it.
“Go on home, Sam. Get some rest. Someone will let you know about Everly when there’s news.”
She had the urge to give him a hug—some physical move of sympathy—but she didn’t act on it. She didn’t have words or sympathy. Maybe she’d find some eventually, but for now … God, she just wanted to go home. And she could.
Because another truth had been brought to light, and somehow, they’d all survived it again. She wondered how many more truths they’d be able to withstand.
“Thanks, Jake,” she said on her way out of the room.
And she left it at that.