Page 10 of The First Hunt (The Final Hunt)

JOHN

R ain pattered against the windshield as his dad drove them home from the Major Crimes Unit.

John pictured Sally sitting in front of him as she had on Christmas Day, then turning around and flashing him her red-lipsticked smile.

The image haunted him, like an eerie rerun that never stopped playing, every time he rode in his dad’s car.

John looked away and stared out his rain-streaked side window, watching the cars pass in a hazy blur. His dad hadn’t said a word since they’d left the courthouse, making John worry that he’d be in trouble when they got home.

Fear pounded in his chest.

“Dad,” John said, breaking the silence. He took a deep breath, deciding to ask the thing that had been gnawing at him for months. “What you did to Sally, would you ever…you know…do that to me?” His last word came out a croak.

“Of course not.” After stopping for a red light, his dad twisted in his seat to face him. “You’re my son. You’re part of me.” The sharpness in his dad’s eyes softened, replaced by something warmer. “I love you, John.”

The tension that had been building in John’s shoulders eased as he looked into his father’s eyes.

“You know that, right?” his dad asked, patting his knee.

John nodded. He did know. Sally must’ve done something to deserve what his dad did, John thought. Just like mom.

“Good.” His father faced forward. “Wow, do you see that? Gas is up to $1.20 a gallon.”

The light turned green. John stared out his window.

His father’s reassurance—and swift change of subject—didn’t make him feel any better.

His gaze landed on a sign that said Be Kind, Rewind in front of a movie rental store as John longed for the kind of escape that came from getting lost in a movie, where the bad things weren’t real, and everything made sense by the end.

***

“What’s wrong?” his father asked when he came into John’s room that night to tuck him in.

Normally, John read every night until his eyelids grew heavy.

But tonight, he lay staring at his Transformer cars lined up in a neat row atop his dresser—the ones he hadn’t played with since he witnessed his dad chasing Sally, naked and terrified, through those woods.

Reading had become his only escape from the dark memory.

John searched his father’s eyes. “I’m afraid you’re going to go to prison,” he said, finally blurting the thing that had been consuming him ever since they’d left Sally in the woods.

After that Rocky-lookalike detective got in John’s face today, he was now afraid they’d blame him too.

He remembered a word from his research. Accomplice.

That’s what he’d be, an accomplice, and he’d go to jail.

But he kept that part to himself, not wanting to sound selfish—or cowardly—to his dad.

His dad knelt beside his bed, resting his elbows on John’s mattress. “That’s never going to happen.” His voice was confident and calm. “Remember what I told you on the way home from the precinct?”

His dad smiled.

“You said you’re too smart for that,” John said.

His dad nodded, pulling the blanket up to the top of John’s chest. “That’s right.”

John stared at the popcorn ceiling. “I don’t want you to leave me.” His mouth went dry. He opened his mouth to speak but then closed it. Like Mom.

His dad placed a palm on John’s chest. “That’s never going to happen.

You saw those detectives, especially the one who interviewed me—and tried to interview you.

He’s incompetent, letting his hot-headed emotions take control.

He made assumptions, and that’s his fatal flaw.

Only seeing what he wants to see.” His father tapped the side of his temple with his finger.

John turned toward his dad. “What happened when you went back to the Major Crimes Unit this afternoon?”

“I took a lie detector test.”

John shot up in bed, widening his eyes at his father. “What?”

“Don’t worry.” His dad pressed his shoulders back against the mattress. “Relax. I passed it.”

How was that possible? “Are you sure?”

“Yes.” His dad smiled. “The trick is to make yourself believe what you’re telling them.”

John studied the glimmer in his dad’s eyes and wondered how many times his father had lied to him.

He knew his dad was capable of horrible acts, but John had always trusted his dad to tell him the truth.

He stared at his father, thinking of all the times his dad said he’d been working overtime during the last two years. Had he really been at work?

“But I would never lie to you,” his dad added, as if reading John’s mind.

Seeing the concern on John’s face, his father leaned over and kissed him on the forehead.

“I promise, you will never have to worry about me being taken from you. I’ll never do anything to jeopardize my freedom of being your father.

” He ran a hand over the top of John’s head. “I’ll never leave you, okay?”

“Because you’re going to stop?”

John willed his father to say yes as his dad rocked back on his heels and stood beside John’s bed.

“I’ll do better.”

John’s stomach churned, wishing his father would’ve answered his question.

“Trust me,” his dad added. “I’ll never let those pigs get close to us again. They’re never going to catch me, son. I’ve made sure of that.”

John sank against his pillow. He’d underestimated his dad. He was smarter and more calculated than John gave him credit for. And now, he’d be smart enough to stop. Maybe he’s going to change. He couldn’t risk killing again when the cops already suspected him. Could he?

“How about we go on a trip?” his father asked. “I could take a week off of work. There are some places I want to scout out for hunting in the fall. Plus, it’d be fun to get out of town, don’t you think?”

John wasn’t sure. Maybe his dad wanted to go somewhere else so he could kill where the cops weren’t on to him. “Where would we go?”

His dad’s eyes brightened with excitement. “How about Alaska?”

***

John lay in the dark after his dad had left to watch TV. His father made Alaska sound like an incredible place: the Northern lights, polar bears, and snow. Everything is bigger in Alaska, his dad had said. The animals, the mountains, the hunting grounds.

John should have been excited. Parts of The Call of the Wild and White Fang took place in Alaska . Plus, John had never even been on a plane before.

But despite his dad’s assurance, his mind ran wild imagining his dad going to prison and John growing up in a skeezy foster home.

He replayed the fierce determination in the stocky detective’s eyes today when he’d held out Sally’s photo.

He knows what my dad did. John turned on his lamp and plucked The Call of the Wild off the nightstand before his mind had a chance to dwell on it anymore.

Thirty pages later, John’s thoughts drifted to what his dad had promised. Detective Peretti might know his dad had killed Sally, but he had no proof. Otherwise, Peretti would’ve arrested him already.

John replaced the Jack London novel on the nightstand before turning off the lamp.

Down the hall, his dad sang to himself “Shout” by Tears for Fears in the kitchen. It reminded John of his mom—always humming to herself—making him wonder what life would be like if his mom were still here.

John turned on his side, staring at the line of toys on his dresser. His father wouldn’t take the chance of killing again. He couldn’t. Not after the cops brought him in for questioning today. And not after promising John he’d never leave him.

At least, John hoped not.