“Just do me a favor,” she said. “Make this an honest-to-God rebirth. Figure out who you want to be, and pour all of it into Michelle. No more letting men set your course for you. Michelle’s a shitkicker who takes no guff.”
“I promise,” I said.
“Good. Now let’s go feed some hungry truckers.”
Up until then, I’d made no effort to check in on my old life. Not by phone or text or email or postcard. I’d been dying to hop on Doris’s laptop and google “Hunt for Sarah Roberts-Walsh,” but I didn’t dare: even search items can be traced these days. But that afternoon, Michelle decided to skip target practice and head to a nearby laundromat, pockets weighted down with quarters. Doris had a machine of her own, but what I wanted was a good old-fashioned pay phone, and the Happy Laundry Laundromat had one of the few remaining public phones in the state.
I smiled at the attendant, headed straight for the back wall, started feeding coins into the slot.
“Hello?” Aunt Lindsey said.
“Aunt Linds?”
“Sarah?”
“Listen,” I said, “I can’t talk for long, but I need to know if you’re okay.”
“Me? What about you? Are you calling from—”
“No, nothing like that.”
“Oh, thank God.”
Inside, I felt as though I might dissolve just from the sheer comfort of hearing her voice, but I stuck a smile on my face for the sake of the laundromat’s patrons, tried to make it look as though I was sharing good news. And in a way I was.
“I’m fine,” I said. “Better than fine. I’ve landed in a good place.”
“Of course you have,” she said. “That’s just your style.”
“Anyone been asking for me?”
“Oh, yes, a steady parade. I think there’s even a cop parked down the street.”
I hoped it was a cop.
“Don’t worry,” she said. “I didn’t tell them anything more than I told Sean: ‘Ain’t seen her.’ And now that’s been true for too long. God, I miss you.”
“Me, too, Aunt Linds,” I said. “I love you.”
And then I hung up.
I thought I’d feel homesick to the point of breaking, but driving back to Doris’s place I was nearly bouncing in my seat. Hearing Aunt Lindsey’s voice reminded me that there were people out there who could be trusted. People worth loving. It made me believe that Doris was real, that she wasn’t on the internet right now, checking to see how much she’d get for turning me in.
That night, I fell asleep before my head hit the pillow. I dreamed of lazy beach days with Aunt Lindsey, when I was a child and she was still young. Sloping sandcastles and rainbow ices and the tide carrying us backward. The kind of days that dropped by the wayside once I hit my angry teenage years.
And then I woke up. I couldn’t say what it was that woke me. Maybe a truck had backfired? Maybe Doris had taken a midnight bathroom break? The plumbing was about what you’d expect from a hundred-year-old home on the prairie.
I glanced over at the clock, then rolled onto my side. That was when I saw him, standing in the doorway, the right side of his blazer tucked behind his gun. I knew who it was before that tall, lean frame came all the way into focus.
“Hello there, Sarah,” Sean said.
Chapter 26
I SQUINTED through the darkness. He stood silhouetted against the lamplight like a cartoon villain. It was almost comical.
“Sorry to wake you,” he said. “But really I have no choice.”
Slowly, I reached toward my nightstand, fumbled for my glasses—glasses I only wore when Sean was around, as if somehow they’d make him think before raising his fist.
“You have a lot of choices,” I said.
“Not really. Not since you ran from the scene of a murder. That was your choice, but somehow it seems I’m the one paying for it.”
“That’s a situation you created.”
“Did you kill him?”
“No,” I said. “Did you?”
If he’d been close enough I would have felt the back of his hand one more time. Instead, he switched on the light, stepped inside, shut the door behind him.
“In case you’re thinking of running again, there are two sheriffs parked out front. They did me a favor, let me come in alone.”
He started toward me, then stopped and sat on the edge of the bed. He reached over, took my hand.
“I’ve been worried sick about you, Sarah,” he whispered. “I suppose you don’t believe me, but it’s true.”
I couldn’t move. I couldn’t even flinch. As powerful as Sean was, as quick as he was to dole out a slap or a kick, it was the gentle, reassuring voice that I’d come to fear most. Because the longer the calm, the more violent the storm.
“Please just go,” I said.
“You know I can’t, baby. The only question is whether you’re going to make me break out the cuffs.”
For a while we just stared at each other. I could imagine the nostalgia in his eyes, and I have to admit I felt it, too. Not for him, but for the man I’d convinced myself he was, back when he was wooing me and I was letting myself be wooed.
“Okay,” he said. “We’ll do this the hard way.”
He stood, took a step back, pulled out his handcuffs, and twirled them around one finger.
“You want to pretend I’m the bad guy and you’re all sweetness and light, but the truth is—”
“Get your ass on the ground!” Doris screamed.
The door flew open so fast I couldn’t tell if she’d pushed it or kicked it. And then she was standing there with her twelve-gauge pointed at Sean’s jewels. At first Sean didn’t react. Then he looked back and forth between me and Doris, his smile growing wider and wider.
“I said on the ground.”
She pumped the shotgun for effect. Sean didn’t blink.
“Doris,” I said, “it’s okay.”
“Now!” she yelled.
“Lady—”
“Shut your mouth. Before you launch into an avalanche of bullshit, you should know that killing doesn’t scare me, and neither does getting killed. Everything I
