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CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

Aidan paced back and forth in his room at the B and B. He’d worked so hard to hide the truth, had spent ten long, horrific years in prison to do so. And now everything was unraveling. He wanted to hate Grace for pulling at the threads, for refusing to stop in spite of him practically begging her to do so. But he could never hate her. As impossible as it seemed, he was half in love with her. She was the only person besides Stella who’d believed in his innocence almost from the very start. Grace believed him to be a decent man. And that felt too good to ignore.

Even though she was destroying everything he’d worked so hard to build.

He’d already spoken to Stella, to warn her that Grace knew the truth, or at least part of it. Now the question was what to do next. How could he protect the people he cared about without endangering anyone else? Was the person here in Mystic Lake the one he’d been protecting all along? Or was it this Crossbow Killer Grace had come here to find? And, oh God please no, were the two of them one and the same?

He slumped down onto the bed, his head in his hands. All these years he’d thought his decision that first day was the best way to salvage a disastrous situation. But what if it wasn’t? Stella had certainly never agreed with the path he’d taken. She’d tried so hard to talk him out of it. Had she been right all along? Had his cover-up only made things worse? Would everything have turned out for the better if he’d faced the truth from the start? Embraced it and figured out another way to move forward? To atone for his own sins, as well?

Second-guessing the past wasn’t doing anyone any good. He had to focus on now, to figure out how to stop whoever was stalking Mystic Lake, and him, whether it was his son or someone else. Grace had already been hurt. And others could have been hurt, or killed, when his home was burned. It was only a matter of time before someone was going to get killed.

Unless he did something to end this.

The lies were unraveling. The truth was coming out. It was time to accept that he couldn’t cover it up anymore. Time to fix what he’d broken all those years ago. Somehow. Without making it even worse.

But to fix it, first, he needed to know if Grace was right. He had to know whether his perfect little boy, his son, had become the monster that Grace believed him to be.

He pulled his cell phone out of his pocket and speed-dialed his lawyer. “Hi, Nate. Yeah, it’s me. Have you had a chance to look into what we spoke about?” He listened as his lawyer put the last nail in the coffin.

Niall had left the Larsens’ Henderson, Kentucky, home a week ago.

His credit card purchases showed he’d driven to Tennessee and had spent several days in a Chattanooga hotel. He’d made purchases at a camping supply store, and bought a crossbow and several quivers of arrows. Another purchase was made at a party store, where he’d bought a large bag of white feathers and red craft paint. The last damning fact the lawyer shared was that Niall checked out of the hotel the morning of the festival. There had been no other charges on his card since then.

He was in Mystic Lake. Had to be. He was the one with his sights set on Aidan, with innocent people’s lives at stake for just being in the same location.

“Nate.” Aidan cleared his tight throat. “Could he be…do you think he’s this Crossbow Killer they’ve been talking about on the news?”

His longtime lawyer, who’d also become a good friend over the years, told him what he’d feared and prayed wasn’t true.

“Could he be? Logistically, it’s possible, Aidan. It’s a five-hour drive from his grandparents’ home in Henderson to Knoxville where the murders have taken place. I looked into the dates of each of the six killings so far—”

“Six. My God.”

“We don’t know it’s your son, Aidan. Have some hope.”

“I’ve been trying, believe me. Go on. You looked into the killings and what?”

“All of them have happened on a weekend.”

“Which works with Aidan’s schedule since there wouldn’t be any school absences to explain. Maybe the Larsens can prove he has an alibi for at least some of those dates. A family trip or something like that.”

“Is that what you want, Aidan? You want me to contact them?”

Aidan thought about it, then straightened, his heart heavy. “I don’t see how we can avoid it anymore. Niall’s in a world of trouble for what he’s done here in Mystic Lake. He’ll need the only parents he’s ever really known to help him through this. He’ll need a lawyer.”

“I can help his parents get one.”

“I’m speaking to one of the best defense attorneys in the country.”

Nate sighed. “I only wish you’d allowed me to be the best back when all this started, with you.”

“You did what your client wanted. No one can hold that against you. Will you help Niall? If the Larsens agree?”

“Of course. I’d love a chance to keep an O’Brien out of prison instead of helping him into one. It would be my honor.”

“Thanks.”

“What are you going to do now, Aidan? What’s your next step?”

His hand tightened around the phone. “I’m going to find my son.”

* * *

Grace sat alone in the conference room. Fletcher had made no secret that she wasn’t happy with her “friendliness” toward Aidan, as the policewoman had called it. Once Aidan had left, Fletcher had given Grace a look of censure, then returned to her desk. But, thankfully, she was still helping with the case. Fletcher had called Grace half a dozen times in the past twenty minutes to ask about entries on the list she was researching. That left Grace free to explore other leads.

Like finally viewing the lab results.

She’d just received an email that they were ready, so she excitedly pulled them up on her laptop.

The reports were detailed and full of geek-speak, so it took a while to cull through them. She made notes as she went, and then checked her list.

Shoe prints from the festival matched shoe prints taken up on the mountain at Aidan’s place. Fingerprints on each of the arrows retrieved from the boat, the woods and the one that had struck Grace’s arm all matched one another. That was enough evidence to prove that the same person had struck both the festival and the mountain at Aidan’s place. Although it really wasn’t a surprise, it was a relief to have something solid, actual facts instead of conjecture. But what she really wanted to know was whether the Mystic Lake suspect was the Crossbow Killer.

She scrolled through page after page of measurements of arrows and feathers and paint chemicals as well as comparisons of types of shoes and sizes that could have left the print. Finally, she came to the part she most wanted to see.

The DNA results.

The FBI had already added the DNA profile of the Crossbow Killer into CODIS. The lab had submitted the profile from the Mystic Lake shooter to CODIS to search for a match.

They got one.

Grace read the lab report again, then reread it slowly to make sure she was interpreting everything correctly.

She was.

She locked her laptop, grabbed her jacket and rushed from the conference room.

Fletcher, who was on the phone, called for her to wait as she ran for the door. But Grace didn’t stop. She had to talk to Aidan.