Last to Die

fluttered. A red squirrel perched on a branch, its tail twitching. This deep in the Maine woods, what other creatures would emerge once darkness fell?

The forest gave way to open sky, and a lake stretched before her. In the distance, beyond impenetrably dark waters, loomed the Evensong building. Lily had referred to it as the castle, and that was exactly what it looked like, mounted on barren granite. Constructed of that same gray rock, the walls rose up as though thrust from the hill itself.

They drove under a stone arch into the courtyard, and Maura parked her Lexus beside a moss-covered wall. Only an hour ago, the day had been summery, but when she stepped out the air felt cold and damp. Looking up at towering granite walls, at the steeply sloping roof, she imagined bats circling the turret high overhead.

“Don’t worry about your suitcase,” said Lily, taking it out of the Lexus trunk. “We’ll just leave it here on the steps, and Mr. Roman will bring it up to your room.”

“Where are all the students?”

“Most of the students and staff have left for summer break. We’re down to only two dozen kids and a skeleton crew who stay year-round. And next week you and Julian will find it really quiet around here, because we’ll be taking the rest of the kids on a field trip to Quebec. Let me give you a quick tour, then I’ll bring you to see Julian. He’s in class right now.”

“How is he doing?” Maura asked.

“Oh, he’s really blossomed since he got here! He’s still not crazy about classroom work, but he’s resourceful, and he notices things that everyone else misses. And he’s protective of the younger kids, always watching out for them. A true Guardian personality.” Lily paused. “It did take him a while to trust us, though. You can understand that, after what he went through in Wyoming.”

Yes, Maura did understand. Because she and Julian had lived through it together, both of them fighting for their lives, not knowing whom to trust.

“And you, Lily?” Maura asked. “How are you doing?”

“I’m right where I should be. Living in this beautiful place. Teaching these amazing kids.”

“Julian told me you built a Roman catapult in class.”

“Yes, during our unit on siege warfare. The students really got into that one. Broke a window, unfortunately.”

They climbed stone steps and came to a doorway so tall it could have admitted a giant. Lily punched in the security code again. The massive wooden door swung open easily with just a push, and they stepped across the threshold into a hall where soaring archways were framed in old timbers. Hanging overhead was an iron chandelier, and set in the arch above it, like a multicolored eye, was a circular stained-glass window. On this gloomy afternoon, it admitted only a faintly muddy glow.

Maura stopped at the foot of a massive stairway and admired the tapestry hanging on the wall, a faded image of two unicorns resting in a bower of vines and fruit trees. “This really is a castle,” she said.

“Built around 1835 by a megalomaniac named Cyril Magnus.” Lily gave a disgusted shake of the head. “He was a railroad baron, big-game hunter, art collector, and all-around mean bastard, according to most accounts. This was built as his private castle. Designed in the Gothic style that he admired during his trips to Europe. The granite was quarried fifty miles from here. The timbers are good old Maine oak. When Evensong purchased this property thirty years ago, it was still in pretty good shape, so most of what you see here is original. Over the years, Cyril Magnus kept adding to the building, which makes it a little confusing to navigate. Don’t be surprised if you get lost.”

“That tapestry,” said Maura, pointing to the weaving of the unicorns. “It actually looks medieval.”

“It is. It comes from Anthony’s villa in Florence.”

Maura had seen the treasure trove of sixteenth-century paintings and Venetian furniture that Sansone kept in his Beacon Hill residence. She had no doubt that his villa in Florence would be as grand as this building, and the art even more impressive. But these were not the warm, honey-hued walls of Tuscany; here the gray stone radiated a chill that even a sunny day would not dispel.

“Have you been there yet?” Lily asked. “To his home in Florence?”

“I haven’t been invited,” said Maura. Unlike you, obviously.

Lily gave her a thoughtful look. “I’m sure it’s only a matter of time,” she said, and turned toward what looked like a paneled wall. She pushed against one of the panels; it swung open to reveal a doorway. “This is the passage to the library.”

“Are you trying to hide the books?”

“No, it’s just one of the peculiar features of this building. I think old Cyril Magnus liked surprises, because it’s not the only door in this house that’s disguised as something else.” Lily led her down a windowless corridor, the gloom accentuated by dark wood paneling. At the far end, they emerged into a room where tall arched windows admitted the last gray light of day. Maura stared up in wonder at gallery upon gallery of bookshelves that soared three stories to a domed ceiling where the plaster had been decorated with a painting of fluffy clouds in a blue sky.

“This is the beating heart of Evensong,” said Lily. “This library. Anytime, day or night, the students are welcome to come in here and pull any book from the shelves, as long as they promise to treat it with respect. And if they can’t find what they’re looking for in the library …” Lily crossed to a door and opened it, revealing a room with a dozen computers. “As a last resort, there’s always Dr. Google.” She shut the door again with a look of distaste. “But really, who wants the Internet when the real treasures are right here.” She gestured to three stories of books. “The collected wisdom of centuries, under one roof. It makes me salivate, just looking at them.”

“Spoken like a true teacher of the classics,” said Maura as she scanned the titles. Napoleon’s Women. Lives of the Saints. Egyptian Mythology. She paused as one title caught her eye, stamped in gold on dark leather. Lucifer. The book seemed to call to her, demanding her attention. She pulled out the volume and stared at the worn leather cover, with its tooled illustration of a crouching demon.

“We believe that no knowledge is off limits,” said Lily quietly.

“Knowledge?” Maura slid the book back on the shelf and looked at the young woman. “Or superstition?”

“It helps to understand both, don’t you think?”

Maura walked down the room, past rows of long wooden tables and chairs, past a series of globes, each representing the world as known in a different age. “As long as you don’t teach it as fact,” she said, stopping to examine a globe from 1650, the continents misshapen, vast territories unknown and unexplored. “It’s superstition. Myth.”

“Actually, we teach them your belief system, Dr. Isles.”

“My belief system?” Maura looked at her in puzzlement. “Which one would that be?”

“Science. Chemistry and physics, biology and botany.” She glanced at the antique grandfather clock. “Which is where Julian is right now. And his class should just be ending.”

They left the library, returning through that dark-paneled corridor to the entrance hall, and climbed the massive stairway. As they passed beneath the tapestry, Maura saw it flutter against the stone wall, as if a draft had just swept into the building, and the unicorns seemed to come alive, trembling beneath the lushly fruited trees. The steps curved past a window, and Maura paused to admire the view of wooded hills in the distance. Julian had told her his school was surrounded by forest, that it was miles from the nearest village. Only now did she see how isolated Evensong truly was.

“Nothing can reach us here.” The voice, so soft, startled her by its nearness. Lily stood half hidden in the shadow of the archway. “We grow our own food. Raise chickens for eggs, cows for milk. Heat with our own wood. We don’t need the outside world at all. This is the first place I’ve truly felt safe.”

“Here in the forest, with bears and wolves?”

“We both know there’s a lot of things more dangerous than bears and wolves beyond the gate.”

“Hasn’t it gotten any easier for you, Lily?”

“I still think about what happened, every single day. What he did to my family, to me. But being here, it’s