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Eliza Michaud had panicked at the sight of the private investigator in the yard. Her blood had also been up after killing Lars Ungar and burying him in a shallow hole in the basement floor. Her spade had struck old bones as she worked, snapping a femur. A proper clear-out was long overdue, and as Eliza returned to the main house, she was contemplating how best to raise the subject with Aline. Her older sister preferred not to disturb the dirt too often.

These were the thoughts running through Eliza’s head as the security light bathed the detective, Parker. Thankfully, she’d had the foresight to reload the shotgun along the way, even if her first shot had gone wild. The second, she believed, might have wounded the man with Parker, although not badly enough to put him out of commission, since he’d been able to return fire, driving her away from the yard and into the woods. So: two intruders, though there might be more. That was awkward. It was hard to strategize without all the necessary information.

The rain had soaked her right through, and she was very cold. She wished Ellar was with her. He must surely be returning from his successful attack on the camp across the creek. He might even have heard the gunfire, which would alert him to trouble. Eliza didn’t want him to come across Parker unprepared. And she was worried about Aline: while Eliza’s initial instinct had been to flee toward the creek in the hope of finding her brother, her concern for her sister had caused her to reconsider, which was why she was circling back toward the house. Parker might already have called the police, but even if he had, what of it? There was no evidence to link the Michauds to the commission of any crime. Armed prowlers had entered their property and they had defended themselves accordingly. True, Maine’s Castle Doctrine permitted the use of deadly force only if the trespasser did not comply with an order to leave, which Eliza had not given, not unless two blasts from a shotgun counted. In an ideal world, if it came down to a legal argument, it would be her word against Parker’s.

But last time Eliza had checked, nothing about this world was ideal. If Parker was in Gretton, he had a reason for it. It might be that Reggio had lied before dying, and had shared his plan to visit the Michauds; or Parker’s inquiries had revealed some clue linking their family to the Clark woman and the disappearance of her child. But whatever had brought Parker to Gretton, it would be best if he never left. Killing him wouldn’t solve everything, but it would solve a whole lot more than letting him live.

Eliza took a few moments to stop and listen. Like her siblings, she knew these woods intimately and had learned how to pass quietly through them. She doubted Parker had the same level of forest lore, so she’d hear him coming. Kit No. 174 was ahead, but looked undisturbed. She found cover behind a rise, put the stock of the shotgun to her shoulder, and calmed herself. When the muzzle found Parker, she would not miss again.

A familiar low double whistle came from close by. Eliza sagged with relief. She looked to her right and found Ellar. He put a finger to his lips and beckoned her to him. She scurried over, coming so close to whisper to him that their lips nearly touched.

“It’s the private detective,” she said. “Parker.”

“Alone?”

“I saw one other man. I think I wounded him.”

“And Aline?”

“I don’t know. She was shooting at them from inside the house. I had to pull back.”

A sob caught in her throat.

“It’s okay,” said Ellar. “You did the right thing.”

He patted her awkwardly on the back, using the hand that held his gun. It was only then that she noticed he was protecting his left arm.

“Are you hurt?”

“I broke a bone,” he said. “I was hoping to get home and have it tended to before the police came asking questions. There’s also a body down by the creek that needs to be put in the dirt. We can’t let it be found.”

“Then we have to kill them,” said Eliza, “Parker and the other one, and we need to do it fast.”

“Or we could run,” said Ellar.

“What about Aline?”

“If they have her, she won’t talk. If she’s dead, she won’t talk either.”

His gaze flicked past her as he searched the woods for any sign of their enemies. His callousness briefly shocked Eliza. This was their sister he was dismissing, but then Aline and Ellar had never enjoyed a good relationship. Eliza had always been the peacemaker between them.

“If we run, we admit our guilt,” she said.

“If they’re here, Sister, they already suspect us.”

“But who could they have told? If they’d talked to the police, the law would be hunting us. That’s why we have to get rid of them. Let what they know die with them.” She stroked his face with the back of her hand. “Or it may be that we’ll be the ones to die.”

Ellar rubbed his cheek against her hand like an animal seeking comfort. It felt as though the Michauds’ time was coming to an end. That might be as it should.

“Then we fight,” said Ellar. “I don’t know about whoever is with him, but Parker is good at what he does. You’ll have to let him get close to have the best chance of killing him, but I don’t think we ought to let him get that close. I can’t handle a rifle with a busted arm, and you shoot almost as well as I do.”

“Better, even,” said Eliza.

“Let’s see about that.”

“So what do you want to do?”

“We draw them to the old house and finish them there.”