Once again Holly waited.
Fleet sighed. “I was never convinced, you know. About Mason. I mean, it all made sense. The idea that he killed Sadie was about the only theory that did. He had motive, opportunity, the temperament. But it just . . . it never felt right. You know?” Fleet glanced and saw Holly nod. “The only thing I was sure of was that Sadie’s friends were lying to us. Holding something back. And as for Mason . . . he’s basically his own worst enemy. Since the day Sadie went missing, all he’s been doing is digging himself further into a hole. That’s why we kept on at them. We had to. I had to. If I hadn’t, I wouldn’t have been doing my job. But I swear to God, Holly, it wasn’t like people have been saying.”
“What have people been saying?” said Holly, frowning.
“They think we—I—became fixated. Because of what happened to Jeannie. You see, Mason . . . he’s Stephen Payne’s son. He’s the one who—”
“I know who Stephen Payne is,” Holly interrupted. “Christ, Rob, we haven’t been separated for that long.”
From the moment Fleet had finally told Holly about his sister—about a month before they got married—she’d been almost as furious about what had happened as Fleet was. More so, actually, because by then Fleet had managed to bury his own fury deep inside him, whereas Holly’s rage was righteous and raw. So he’d known she would hardly need reminding who Stephen Payne was. What he’d actually been about to tell her was that Payne was one of the men who’d jumped him. (Allegedly, the copper in him cautioned, reminding him that he had no actual proof. He hadn’t even seen his attackers.) But Fleet decided that, on balance, it was probably better—safer—if he kept that particular piece of information to himself. Heaven knew what Holly would do if she found out.
“Anyway, the link with Stephen Payne is only part of it, I’m guessing. People see me as someone who’s got it in for the entire community. They think . . . I don’t know what they think. That somehow I’ve got it into my head that Sadie’s friends are just like Stephen Payne’s gang from back in the day. They got away with what they did, and I left town, but now I’m back and looking for revenge.”
“But that’s ridiculous!”
Fleet twitched a shoulder, and realized he’d found a part of his body that didn’t hurt. “Maybe. Maybe not. But if I’d really wanted to get back at Stephen Payne by taking it out on his son, I could have had Mason in custody the day Sadie went missing. My team would have supported me. Roger would have given me a great big pat on the back.”
“Exactly,” said Holly, as though that settled it.
“But what I can’t help thinking,” Fleet went on, “is that maybe that’s where I went wrong. Maybe the people round here are right after all.”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean, maybe if I’d ignored that voice in my head—if I’d focused on following the evidence and taken Mason into custody at the start—the search party would never have happened. Because that part is unquestionably true. Sadie’s friends only set off into the woods in the first place because we put them under so much pressure.”
“Because they were lying to you! Because they’re still lying, I’m guessing. And you just said, you don’t think Mason did it.”
“No, I know, but—”
“So there you go then! You said it yourself, Rob. If people lie to you, you have to put them under pressure. Getting to the truth is part of your job. Christ, it is your job. And if you’re blaming yourself for the way things turned out in the woods, you can cut that shit out right now. You didn’t want that to happen, did you?”
“No, of course not.”
“And you’re big enough and ugly enough to know that the whole world doesn’t turn around you, right? That it’s not just the decisions you take that dictate what happens to the rest of us. Right?”
Fleet couldn’t help but smile.
“So are you done now?” said Holly. “Feeling sorry for yourself, I mean? So some people around town are talking shit. So what?” She exhaled angrily, shaking her head. “What does Nicky think? About Mason, about Roger. About what people around here are saying,” she added scornfully.
“Nicky’s loyal. Even if she thought I’d screwed up, she wouldn’t—”
“Nicky’s loyal for a reason, Rob. She’s loyal because she knows better than anyone that you’re a damn fine copper. And more important, that you’re a damn fine human being. Honestly, Rob. You’ve beaten yourself up enough over the years, wouldn’t you say? And as for that poor kid out there in the woods . . . surely you know by now that you can’t save everyone. I know you want to. I know that’s why you do what you do. But not everything is on you, Rob. Even Jeannie. What happened to her isn’t on you.”
Fleet didn’t respond. Mainly because he didn’t know how to.
They sat in silence for a moment. From the expression on Holly’s face, she seemed afraid that she’d gone too far.
“What’s he like?” she said at last, her tone softer now. “The boyfriend. Mason. How badly screwed-up is he? I mean, Jesus. To have Stephen Payne as a father. Whatever that poor kid’s done in his life, whatever he’s guilty of now, you’d have to imagine he’s already been punished enough.”
Fleet didn’t have to imagine anything to know that what Holly had said was true.
“Mason’s angry. Stupid. Young.” What Fleet didn’t add, but he was thinking, is that Mason had come to remind Fleet of himself when he’d been Mason’s age. Fleet had been just as disdainful, just as arrogant, just as insecure, deep down, in his sense of self-worth.
As was her knack, Holly appeared to have read between the lines anyway. “Sounds like someone else you used to know,” she said.
Fleet returned her smile, then flinched at the pain in his head.
“Here,” said Holly, reaching toward the bedside table. “Anne
