The Bone House

found the couple's Accord parked inside for the season. Keys on a peg board by the door. He loved Midwesterners.

'Let's get it over with,' Pete said.

Reich marched to the side door of the garage. He didn't notice the cold, other than the prickly bite of ice crystals in his nose when he breathed. He cocked his leg and smashed the door inward with a swing of his boot. Just like Harris Bone would do. Inside, he pushed through spiderwebs and heard the scurry of rats in the rafters. He returned to find Harris on the ground, curled into a ball, and he lifted him bodily with both hands and threw him toward the garage door. Harris tripped in the shackles and fell with a whimper. Pete stepped over him into the garage, started the engine of the Accord, and popped the trunk. Reich grabbed Harris, pulled him on his heels, and dumped him into the rear of the car.

He slammed the trunk shut, locking Harris inside.

'Come on,' Reich said. He dug in his pocket for the keys to his squad car and threw them on the ground. He held out the keys to the cuffs and shackles to Pete, who stood by the driver's door with his hands in his pockets. 'You having second thoughts?' he asked.

'You know me better than that, Felix.' He took the keys.

Reich stared into his friend's face for a long time in the shadows. 'OK then.'

Pete drove. They headed north on the deserted roads, back toward Door County. Ten miles from the farmhouse, they passed a bar with a handful of pickups parked outside the door. Pete continued past the bar for a quarter-mile until no one who ventured into the winter air would see them, and then he pulled on to the shoulder. Both men got out.

The wind poured over their bodies with an unforgiving fury. Pete dug his chin into his neck and pulled down his wool hat. Reich simply walked down the gully from the road into the dirt of the field. He wasn't even wearing a hat to cover the steel wool of his hair. His skin was already numb and white, but he didn't care.

Pete followed. 'You sure about this, Felix?'

'Just do it.' Reich squatted and found a fist-sized clump of earth that had frozen into jagged edges. 'Here.'

'I wish there was some other way,' Pete said.

'Hit me. Hard. You only get one try.'

Pete reared back with the rock and swung his gloved hand into his friend's forehead. The frozen spikes cut through Reich's skin, erupting in blood. Reich stumbled back at the force of the blow and nearly fell. He staggered. Pete dropped the rock and reached for his friend, but Reich shrugged him away.

'Get the hell out of here.'

'Can you make it to the bar?'

Reich touched his hand to his cheek, where the warm blood was already freezing. He felt his words slurring as he tried to talk. He tasted copper on his lips. 'Just go. I'll join you as soon as I can, and we'll finish this. It's for Nettie and the boys, remember?'

Reich stayed where he was, bleeding in the field, until Pete climbed the shoulder and drove away. The car disappeared, its tail lights winking out, leaving Reich alone. He was losing blood fast. He took two clumsy steps toward the bar, which looked impossibly far. Briefly, he wondered if it would be better to lie down among the broken cornstalks and give himself up to the winter. He had a vision of his future, and it wasn't pretty. He had been the one to cross the line tonight, and there was no going back.

Even so, he quashed his doubts and marched for rescue like a wounded soldier.

'I saw what was left of him, Sheriff,' Cab said. 'The two of you didn't just kill him. You tortured him.'

'Torture is burning to death,' Reich replied. 'I've seen it happen to people I considered my enemies, and I didn't even wish it on them.'

'I saw the broken bones. The bullet holes.'

Reich shrugged. 'I don't regret what I did. Sometimes you have to take justice into your own hands.'

'Peter Hoffman regretted it, though, didn't he?'

'Pete got soft,' Reich said. 'He got old. The booze took over.'

'Or maybe he finally realized the two of you had become the monsters you were trying to destroy.'

'We did what we had to do,' Reich said.

'If you're so sure about that, why kill Hoffman to cover it up? Why not tell the world?'

'People like you don't understand,' he snapped. 'They don't appreciate the tough decisions that others make for them.'

Tresa pulled away from Cab and marched toward Reich through the wet ground. She swept the red hair from her face. 'You son of a bitch,' she hissed.

'Tresa, stay out of this,' Reich told her.

'All this time I thought Harris was alive. That made it OK. And now I find out you killed him. You bastard!'

'This doesn't concern you.'

'Who else knew?' she demanded. 'Did my mother know?'

'No one knew. Look, Tresa, you were a kid. Your father was dead, and Harris was there for you. That doesn't change what he did.'

Tresa pushed in close enough to spit in Reich's face. 'You're always right, aren't you? You're right about everything. You didn't believe me about Mark either. You wouldn't listen when I told you that nothing happened between us. Instead, you had to go about ruining his life.'

Reich wiped his face with his free hand. 'I'm sorry you had to find out about Harris, but if there's one good thing to come out of this, at least now you know what kind of a man Mark Bradley really is.' He jabbed a finger at Mark across the dark space between the graves. 'He wanted you to think Harris Bone killed your sister, didn't he? Now you know that's a lie. He was the one out on the beach with her. He was the one who killed Glory.'

Tresa shook her head. 'You stupid macho jerk. All of you. You. Troy. Peter Hoffman. Everybody.'

She walked toward Mark. Reich shouted to stop her, and Mark put his hands up to warn her away, but Tresa put herself squarely between

Mark and the sheriff, in the path of his gun, and spread her arms wide, if you want to kill him, now you'll need to kill me, too.'

Reich's face pulsed with fury and frustration. 'He's as evil as Harris was, Tresa. Don't be fooled.'

'You're the evil one,' Tresa said. 'You're the one who murdered an innocent man.'

'What the hell are you talking about?' Reich growled.

'Don't you get it?' Tresa screamed at him. 'Harris Bone didn't kill his family. It wasn't him. He didn't start the fire.'

Chapter Fifty-One

Gary Jensen heard Katie in the hallway.

His shoulders swiveled, and his eyes flicked away. That was Hilary's chance. She charged from her knees and leaped across the space between them, driving Jensen backward into the wall. Her knee spiked into Jensen's groin, and he doubled over. She dove for his gun hand, but he swung the butt of the gun and caught her on the bottom of her chin. The impact of metal on bone ricocheted in her brain. She staggered backward, tripping on the bed and falling as her left leg gave way beneath her.

Jensen, still bent over, aimed the barrel at her chest. Hilary was dizzy, but she saw his finger slide over the trigger. Just as he fired, she heard a shout and saw a blur of motion. Amy threw herself into Jensen's body, and as they collided, the gun went off with a deafening blast. The bullet tore into the wall over the bed, blasting through Sheetrock and kicking up a cloud of white dust. Amy and Jensen toppled on to the floor. They rolled over each other