Page 30

“I don’t know what this is doing here,” John heard himself say.
His dad snatched the shoe from John’s grip and set it on his thigh. “Must be from someone who rented the car before us.”
John sat in silence, staring at the dirty mounds of snow piled along the side of the road as his dad drove toward the airport while keeping the shoe on his lap. About two miles from theirhotel, John spotted three patrol cars parked on the shoulder of the highway, with yellow crime scene tape stretched across the adjacent ditch and running across a clearing, connected to one of the trees that marked the edge of the woods. A blue and white van markedCORONERwas parked in front of the patrol cars.
As they drove past, John craned his neck to get a look at the scene. He couldn’t see the body, but he spotted a man in a dark suit carrying an evidence bag to his car. When John recognized the light blue Ked inside the clear plastic bag matching the one on his dad’s lap, he thought he might puke.
He inhaled audibly, then glanced at his dad to see if he’d noticed. But his dad peered past John out the passenger window as they sped away from the scene.
“Wonder what happened there,” his dad said.
John gulped. They passed a sign that read “Parks Highway” as John’s M&Ms from last night rose to the top of his throat. John already knew that’s what highway they were traveling on. The newscaster had said so that morning. He avoided his dad’s gaze as they continued toward the airport, knowing there was no way he could hide what he knew if he looked his dad in the eye.
John gripped the door handle as his dad pulled into the empty parking lot of a Dunkin’ Donuts.
“Let’s grab some breakfast.”
A Fairbanks patrol car pulled into the lot and parked in the spot beside John. John froze as the officer got out of his car. His dad grabbed the shoe and slid it inside an empty McDonald’s bag from the backseat before getting out.
“Morning, Officer.” His dad nodded to the cop.
John held his breath, afraid his father was about to confess. Then his dad stuffed the bag into a covered garbage bin outside the entrance, coming around the car and opening the door for John.
I should say something,John thought.Now’s my chance.Guilt swept over him, chilling him to the core. As he climbed out, he kept his gaze on the pavement.
His dad bent over and gripped John squarely by both shoulders, forcing him to meet his gaze. “Don’t worry. Everything’s going to be fine.” He smiled, tussled John’s hair, and led the way into the Dunkin’ Donuts.
John followed his dad in silence.I sure as hell hope so.
His dad placed a hand on his stomach as he strode toward the building’s entrance. “Man, I’m starving.” He held the door open for John.
John moved through the doorway, and a warm, sugary scent hit him. The cop stood at the register, and a young, redheaded woman greeted them from behind the counter. John stared at the donuts in the display, mentally replaying his dad coming back to the motel in the middle of the night, waking John from his sleep.
He knows where that shoe came from,John thought.He has to.
John turned to his dad as he flashed the woman behind the counter a charismatic smile, making her blush. John couldn’t help but be impressed at his father’s lack of reaction to the shoe and crime scene they’d passed on the highway. His father was an even better actor than John had given him credit for.
PART 2
Chapter 16
HOLLY
March 1990
“As the gavel fell, sentencing Richard Kane to life in prison without parole, the courtroom exhaled a collective breath that felt both hollow and heavy. For the neighbors on Queen Anne Hill, who once admired the picture-perfect couple in the Tudor on 4th Avenue, the trial had revealed the cracks beneath the façade of normalcy. But for advocates fighting to make domestic violence visible, Diane Kane’s story became a rallying cry—a tragic emblem reminding all of us why silence is no longer an option.”
Applause filled the packed downtown bookstore as Holly closed the hardcover copy of her newest true crime release,Behind Closed Doors.
“Thank you,” Holly said into the microphone before stepping aside to allow her publicist, Laurie, to take her place behind the podium. “Thank you so much.”
Holly worked to stifle the yawn that threatened to emerge. Thanks to Laurie, Holly’s life for the last three weeks had become an endless parade of readings, interviews, and book signings. Her books would be nothing without her readers—and Holly was grateful for each one of them—but she’d forgotten how energy-zapping these kinds of events were for her. And this was her biggest book tour so far.
In the last four years, four of her books had been published, each hitting theNew York Times’Bestseller List. As every advance grew larger, her publisher expected Holly to do more promotion. It was a balancing act, trying to keep up with her writing deadlines and the demands that came with her success. Over the last few weeks, she’d fallen behind on the new true crime novel she was writing. Yesterday, she’d broken down and asked her publisher for an extension—something she’d never done before and hoped she would never have to do again.
“Holly, I think I speak for everyone when I say that was an incredibly moving reading.” A second round of clapping erupted from the crowd gathered inside the main floor of Pike Street Bookstore.
Holly blushed, smiling as her gaze fell across the tightly filled room. Sometimes, she felt like pinching herself. Was this really her life? She was in a crowded room full of strangers who’d come to hear her read words from her own book that was being made into a TV series. A lump formed in her throat as she scanned the strangers’ faces, wishing her sister could be here. Despite Holly’s success as a true crime author, she was no closer to finding out who had killed Meg.