Page 48 of This is Why We Lied

“Like who?”

“How about the guy who introduced himself as Landry but his partner called him Paul?”

“What does that have to do with Mercy?”

Instead of answering, she told him, “This is going to hurt.”

Will clenched his jaw as she poured disinfectant into his open wound.

“The pain will get worse before it gets better,” she warned. “How about Chuck? Mercy clearly wanted nothing to do with him. Even after she basically told him to fuck off, he kept staring at her like a stalker.”

Will was about to answer when she pinched some gauze around the webbing between his thumb and finger. It felt like she’d lit a match to gunpowder. “Jesus, what is that?”

“QuickClot,” she said. “It can cause cutaneous burns, but it’ll stop the bleeding. I need to hold pressure for a few minutes. You’ve got maybe twenty-four hours before it has to come off. Or you can go to the hospital and have the wound properly taken care of.”

Will could tell from her clipped tone which choice she wanted him to make. “Sara, you know I can’t walk away from this.”

“I know.”

She kept a steady pressure on the bandage. Neither of them spoke, but they were each thinking their own thoughts. She was probably running through all the ways his hand could get infected or nerves could be damaged or whatever medical thing she was most concerned about. He was thinking about Dave with a singular intensity that took his mind away from the fact that his hand felt like it was exploding from the inside.

“Just another minute.” Sara was watching the second hand move around the clock on the wall.

Will watched her to pass the time. She was as sweaty and disheveled as he was. He picked a twig out of her hair. She was barefooted. Mercy’s blood in the water had turned Sara’s sage-colored cotton dress into a tie-dye version that reminded him of the outfit Mercy’s aunt had worn at dinner.

Thinking about the aunt made him think about the rest of Mercy’s family. Will had been so focused on tracking down Dave that he hadn’t considered what needed to happen first. As of right now, he had no authority in the investigation. At best, he was a witness, at worst, he was just a placeholder until the local sheriff arrived.

It might take a while for the man to reach the lodge. Will would have to do the death notification. Jon would have to be told that his mother had been murdered. The kid would probably want to see her body. Mercy couldn’t be left floating in the water, so Will and Sara had managed to carry her into the second cottage. They had barred the door with some of the lumber scattered around the worksite so that an animal couldn’t get to her. The coming rain meant the crime scene would be destroyed anyway.

“Cecil’s disability presumably takes him off the list.” Sara was still going through alternative suspects. “Jon was with me.”

“Why was Jon with you?”

“He was still drunk. I think he was trying to run away.” Sara kept the bandage on his hand while she opened a pack of gauze. “There was obviously tension between Mercy and her brother. And her mother. God, they were all so awful to her at dinner.”

Will knew she was trying to help, but this wasn’t a complicated case. “The cabin was set on fire, probably to cover the crime scene. Her jeans were pulled down, probably because she was assaulted. She was dragged to the water, probably so she would drown. Bonus points for washing away any DNA. The attack was frenzied. The killer was angry, uncontrolled, violent. Sometimes, the obvious is obvious for a reason.”

“And sometimes, an investigator can develop tunnel vision at the start of a case that ends up leading him in the wrong direction.”

“I know you’re not questioning my skills.”

“I’m always on your side,” she said. “But I’m giving you a check on the situation. You understandably hate Dave.”

“Tell me how he’s not the prime suspect.”

Sara didn’t have an immediate answer. “Look at us. Look at our clothes. Whoever killed Mercy would’ve been covered in blood.”

“That’s why the clock’s ticking,” Will said. “The crime scene is basically useless. We’ve got the blade inside Mercy’s chest, but we don’t know where the broken handle is. I don’t want to give Dave a second longer to destroy the evidence, but I’m going to have to wait for the sheriff to get here. He’ll have to organize a manhunt and formally start the investigation. I’m not sure how I’d get out of this place anyway. I don’t have a legal justification to confiscate a vehicle.”

Sara started wrapping his hand with a compression bandage. “We need to find a phone. Or the Wi-Fi password.”

“We need more than that. I’ve got emergency SOS on my phone. All you have to do is find a clear signal. It uses satellites to send a text and location to emergency services and specified contacts.”

“Amanda.”

“She’ll be able to talk her way into the investigation,” Will said. The GBI wasn’t allowed to take over a case. They had to be asked by the locals or ordered in by the governor. “We’re in Dillon County. The sheriff’s probably dealt with one murder his entire career. We need arson experts, forensics, a complete autopsy. If the manhunt stretches into tomorrow, we’ll have to coordinate with marshal services in case Dave’s crossed state lines. The sheriff won’t have any of that in his budget. He’ll be grateful when Amanda shows up.”

“I’ll get your phone from the cottage and send out the text.” Sara tied off the bandage. “Go ring the bell at the main house. That will bring everyone out.”