The thought brought an unexpected heaviness as she reached for a glass beaker and began filling it with alcohol. She had one eye on her phone, the other on the pad she’d used to jot down her calculations, when she suddenly stopped pouring. There’d been no sound, no movement caught out of the corner of her eye, just a subtle shift in the air around her, alerting her that she was no longer alone.
THIRTY-NINE
She recognized Dennis’s silhouette the instant she turned.
He stood motionless in the doorway, arms hanging slack at his sides. Her heart thudded against her ribs as she waited for him to speak, but he just stood there, eyes flat, and yet strangely riveted. Finally, he pulled the door closed and began moving toward her, his steps slow but deliberate.
Lizzy’s mind whirred as she calculated the odds of escape. There was zero chance that she’d get past him this time, and consequently no hope of reaching the door.
“You’ve got no business here,” she said, fighting to keep the panic from her voice as she edged toward the end of the workbench and her cell phone. “Leave. Now.”
Dennis continued to advance. She could see his face now, ruddy and sweating, his lower jaw shot forward like a bulldog’s. He had swapped the blood-smeared coat for a bulky camouflage jacket that seemed all wrong for a sticky August afternoon.
She caught a whiff of him, the now-familiar mud-and-blood stench, mingled with alcohol. He’d been drinking since she’d last seen him, heavily if she was any judge, though she wasn’t sure whether that worked in her favor or against it. The alcohol might have slowed him by a step. Or it might have just stoked his temper. Her money was on the latter.
“You,” he slurred, as he continued to close the distance between them. “You think you’re so smart. Coming back here after all these years, poking around in things that are none of your business. Like you’re goddamn Columbo or something.”
“Heather and Darcy Gilman are my business.”
“And my sister-in-law—she your business too? And my brother?”
Lizzy sidled to her left, another step closer to her phone. “I never really knew Hollis—”
“Don’t you say his name to me! Don’t you ever say his name!” He dropped his head as if suddenly exhausted. “You should have stayed gone.”
“Is that what you came to tell me last night? That I should have stayed gone?”
Dennis lifted his head, eyes glittering. “I didn’t come to tell you anything.”
“I know,” Lizzy said quietly, unnerved by the admission. He’d said it without blinking. Like a man with nothing to lose. “The police found your knife.”
“I gave you three chances!” he bellowed at her. “Three chances to leave it alone. That stupid doll and the note. Burning down the shed. When none of that worked, I showed up with a knife. But you just kept poking, asking your questions. That stops now.” He was sweating heavily, and paused long enough to drag a sleeve across his face. “A man protects his family. My old man taught me that. Took a while, but I get it now. A man does what he has to.”
Lizzy squared her shoulders, refusing to be cowed. “So does a woman.”
Dennis’s mouth curled unpleasantly. “I wonder if you’ll think it was worth it.”
The glint in his pale eyes turned Lizzy’s blood cold. She wasn’t sure what the remark meant, but she wasn’t sticking around to find out. She darted to her left, grabbing blindly for her phone, then wheeled back to her right, ducking as he lunged for her.
She was almost in the clear, her eyes on the door, when Dennis caught her arm and jerked her back. Terrified, she flailed at him with both arms, managing to land a solid blow to his chest, another to his left cheek.
In the end she was no match for his size and strength. Her head snapped back as his fist connected with her jaw, the white-hot crack of pain all but blinding her as she went down. She lay sprawled on her back, her jaw throbbing like a pulse, the taste of blood metallic on her tongue. Black spots danced at the edges of her vision as she attempted to get up. At some point during the struggle she’d lost her phone.
Dennis stood nearby, his face sheened with sweat, a welt already forming on his left cheek. He looked on dispassionately as Lizzy struggled to get to her knees. He craned his neck, running his eyes around the barn, finally coming to rest on the workbench. He stepped closer, picking things up, putting them down again.
“Some setup you’ve got here,” he said with a lazy smile. “Some flammables, I see.” The smile widened as he reached into his pocket and pulled out a lighter. He flicked it briefly for effect. “Be a shame if there was an accident.”
Panic fizzed through Lizzy’s limbs, the hot-and-cold prickle of adrenaline surging through her arms and legs. The room spun as she dragged herself to her feet. There seemed to be two of everything, like binoculars out of focus. For a moment she thought she might be sick, but the sensation vanished when she saw Dennis unzip his jacket and reach inside.
Her throat convulsed when she spotted the bottle of red liquid, a rag stuffed into its neck. The investigators had found one just like it among the ashes of the shed. He inverted the bottle several times, soaking the rag. Lizzy caught the oily reek of
