Chapter 50
RAIN STARTS TO FALL AS WE WALK ACROSS THE GRASS, THE DAY GRAY as twilight. The dogs hurry in front of us as if eager to get in out of the wet. I glance back at the pasture, where the farm animals don’t seem fazed by the rain. The barn doors are wide open in any case if they want to stay dry.
Inside the house, a clock chimes and reminds me of Spencer House. That’s the only detail that is similar between the two places. The house darkens as the clouds converge.
“It’s really coming down,” Mary says. “Good thing we got the chores done when we did.” She pours us both more coffee.
I hear a series of low grunts. Mary leans over and scoops up a white rabbit.
She cuddles him in her arms. “This is Leroy,” she says, and sits at the table with him on her lap.
“When I was six, my mother gave me a bunny for Easter.” Mary swallows and clears her throat.
“My father was furious. We weren’t allowed to have pets.
He hated animals. But I loved Bonnie the bunny.
” Mary wipes a tear from her cheek. “I didn’t have Bonnie for long.
My father made my mother return her to the pet store.
Just out of meanness. Anyway, I’ve always loved animals,” Mary says, and smiles slightly.
“I prefer them to most people.” She picks up her phone. “We need to call the sheriff.”
But before she can make the call, a car pulls up outside. Mary stands and puts Leroy in his cage. The dogs rise, the fur on their backs bristling. “It’s too early for visitors,” Mary says, and goes to the door. Before she can grab the knob, the door bursts open.
Alex.
I stand behind my chair, trembling. His tall frame fills the doorway. He and Mary face each other, her back to me. He grabs her arms, and they stumble forward into the room.
“What are you doing here?” Mary screams.
“In spite of everything, it’s good to see you,” he says. He pushes Mary to the side, where she clutches the edge of the counter to keep from falling over. Alex’s gaze shoots past her to me. “What were you thinking, Emma? Running off like that. And here, to her.”
I creep backward. “You locked me in the attic. What was I supposed to do?”
“I only meant to calm you down until we could come up with a plan.”
They’re big on plans, these Spencers. When I look closely, I can see traces of Ruth in his visage.
“Like what?” I ask, stalling, racking my brain for a way to get him out of here.
He draws a deep breath. “Something to get the cops off my case.” He grimaces. “Your nosey boyfriend really stepped into it. He’s made it his mission to frame me for Carol’s death, and there’s no real proof that she’s even dead.”
“He’s not my boyfriend.” And how can he say this in front of Mary? Mary is the one person who knows the truth. I look at her, her face white, her breath coming in gasps. She’s inching toward the table, where her phone sits.
“You need to leave, Alex. This is my home, and I don’t want you here,” Mary says.
“Come on, Emma.” He holds out his hand.
I can barely catch my breath. “No. I’m staying here.” I back away.
“I suppose you’ve filled her head with lies,” Alex says to Mary.
“I know what I saw.”
“It was an accident. And you know it.”
Mary shakes her head. “No. Now leave.”
Alex walks toward me. “Not without my daughter.”
Mary jumps between us, and Alex shoves her.
Mary stumbles, hits her head on the counter, and falls to the floor.
I start toward her, but Alex stands in the way, a towering monolith.
There’s no way I can get to Mary with him between us.
I clutch my back pocket, where I’ve tucked my phone.
I need to get help, so I turn and run back into the interior of the house, looking for another door, a way out. I need to get away and call for help.
I fly down a hallway, Alex breathing heavily behind me.
But I find what looks like an exterior door and I’m through.
The sun is up enough now to clearly see my way forward.
I run through the cold, icy rain toward woods that stand beside the pasture.
I hear the sounds of the animals in the distance.
My heart is beating wildly as I run, but I’m a seasoned runner and Alex is not.
That’s my hope. I’ll lose him in the woods.
I hear him behind me as I dart into the trees, hoping for a path, but I don’t see one. Only trees and brush that pull at my clothes and a lumpy forest floor that tests my ankles. He’s still after me. Stupid choice, these thick woods. I can barely make my way through the vegetation.
Stupid. Stupid. Stupid.
Then I see an opening ahead and I burst out into a meadow. But the woods slowed me down enough that Alex has nearly caught up.
“Emma!” he calls. “We can work this out. I’m your father!”
Icy tears coat my cheeks, mingling with the rain.
My breath is ready to give out, and I’m dizzy with fatigue and lack of sleep.
My legs slow like they’re filled with lead.
I feel myself fall, almost like slow motion.
My face hits the grass, wet and cold. My palms skid into the ground.
I whirl around on my side, try to scramble to my feet, but he’s over me.
Tall and massive, his dark hair wild about his face, teeth flashing in a determined grimace.
Alex reaches a hand down and grabs my shoulder, dragging me to my feet. I struggle in his grasp, scream and kick.
Then a flash of beige and black shoots past my side vision. Alex gasps and hollers, stumbles back, letting me go. I collapse back to the ground and roll over. Max has Alex’s arm clenched in her powerful jaws. The dogs must’ve followed me out the back door.
“You bitch!” Alex screams, and grabs the dog’s neck with his free hand.
A strident voice emanates from behind Alex. “If you hurt my dog, I’ll blow your fucking head off.”
Mary stands, a gun pointed in Alex’s direction. He slowly turns, the dog still clasping his arm. Blood drips through his sleeve. Alex’s face is white as ivory, his mouth twisted in pain.
Mary calls Max. “Release!” The dog dutifully lets go of Alex’s arm and trots to Mary’s side. Mary reaches one hand down to pat her head. “Good girl.”
Alex cradles his injured arm. “Look. This doesn’t have to go this way. Put the gun down, Mary.” He smiles at her, and I feel my heart knock against my ribs. His smile. My father’s smile right now is one of the scariest things I’ve ever seen.
The rain has stopped and there’s the sound of a vehicle in the distance. I hope that Mary was able to call 911 before she came looking for me. Minutes seem to pass as Mary holds Alex in place with the gun.
I look across the field for the cops, but instead a single man jogs over to where we stand.
“What’s going on, Nina?”
I see my aunt’s face relax, but she holds fast to the gun trained on Alex. “I need the sheriff, Wyatt. This is my brother, Alex Spencer.”
The man is tall, as tall as my father, and strong, like he’s worked on a farm his whole life. He wears a thick suede jacket over a flannel shirt, jeans, and worn boots. His graying hair is thick, and his eyes are kind with fine lines trailing their corners.
Alex glances between Mary and Wyatt, like he’s trying to figure out what to do. He’s lost control of the situation, which is something he’s not used to. He clasps his arm where blood drips from the dog bite.
Wyatt pulls his phone from his pocket.