‘You sound like you’re defending him.’
The motel owner shook his head. ‘Oh, no, no, don’t think that at all. I’m saying I understand him. I know what he went through. I know what you’re going through, too, Mr. Hawk. Sometimes choices are easy. Sometimes they are hard.’
Marco slid open the top drawer of the desk behind the counter. Inside was a revolver with a wooden grip and a two-inch barrel. He removed the gun from the drawer and laid it on the counter next to a scattering of reservation forms and a glass jar stocked with spiky white candies. ‘We all have to be careful these days, don’t we?’ he asked.
‘Yes, we do.’
Marco took a handkerchief from the pocket of his pants and carefully wiped the surfaces of the gun, rubbing them clean with firm buffing of the cloth. The butt. The barrel. The hammer. The revolver was fully loaded, and he opened the cylinder and wiped each cartridge, too, before replacing them. ‘I keep a gun for safety,’ he said.
‘People don’t often get robbed here, but you never know. There are vagrants everywhere who make a point of seeking out deserted motels like this. A loaded revolver gives me peace of mind.’
Chris said nothing.
Marco opened the drawer again, placed the gun inside, and replaced the handkerchief in his pocket. ‘Of course, guns have been known to be stolen. Who knows, a guest sees what I keep in my drawer, and I turn my back, and it’s gone. Things like that happen. What can I do?’
He slid the drawer shut. His eyes were dark and meaningful.
‘I will keep praying for you, Mr. Hawk,’ Marco told him. ‘When you see your daughter, you hug her to your chest, okay? Keep her safe, and make sure she always has her father to look after her.’
Marco disappeared into the living room behind the office and shut the door, leaving Chris alone. The only noise was the hum of the old house fan, rattling as its blades turned.
Do nothing or do the wrong thing.
Chris was shocked by how quickly he made the decision. Some choices are hard, some are easy. He leaned his chest across the counter, opened the drawer with his long arm, and took Marco’s gun.
18
‘I don’t remember being in the train car,’ Olivia told him. ‘I was in the back of a truck, and they were holding me down. Then it’s like the film stops, you know? I woke up here.’
Chris sat beside the hospital bed and stroked her hair with the back of his fingers. He remembered caressing her that way when she was a child, as she sat on his lap and he read to her from Curious George books until she fell asleep on his chest. ‘It happens that way sometimes,’ he said.
She stared at him, and her eyes were dead serious. ‘So what am I blocking out?’
‘An assault you didn’t deserve,’ he said.
‘The doctor said I wasn’t raped. Is that a lie? I don’t want anybody protecting me like I’m a kid.’
‘Doctors don’t lie about that kind of thing.’
‘I want to remember what happened,’ she said.
‘Why?’
‘I don’t like my brain hiding stuff.’
‘Well, when your brain figures it’s safe to remember, you’ll remember. Until then, focus on getting your strength back.’
Olivia nodded. ‘Sorry,’ she added.
‘For what?’
‘For sneaking out. Mom must be pissed.’
Chris took her hand. Her grip was firm, but her skin was clammy. The hospital room was uncomfortably warm. ‘The only thing we care about is that you’re safe.’
‘Can I get out of here now? I’m sick of being poked and prodded.’
‘Maybe tomorrow. The doctors want to keep you around for a little while.’ Chris added, ‘Your mother called a friend of hers in Mankato. A counselor. She’s going to drive up here and talk to you this afternoon.’
‘I don’t want to see a shrink.’
‘Give her a chance.’
‘I already said I don’t remember.’
‘Just talk to her, okay?’
Olivia shrugged. ‘Okay. If you say so.’
Chris wondered how much of her bravery was real and how much was an act. ‘After you get out, how would you like to go see my sister? Aunt Jennie has that great place outside Little Rock. You and she could hang out for a couple of months and spend some girl time.’
‘What about the murder trial?’ Olivia asked.
‘There’s a lot of legal stuff that has to happen first. Given what happened, I can get the court’s permission for you to stay with her.’
Olivia shook her head. ‘No. I won’t run away.’
‘That’s not what I’m talking about,’ Chris said.
‘Sure it is, and I won’t do it. I’m not going anywhere.’
Chris didn’t fight her. He would have preferred that Olivia stay far away from Barron, but he was learning what Hannah had discovered years earlier. His daughter was every bit as stubborn as her mother.
Olivia played with the steel railing of the bed, tapping on it with her chipped nails. ‘I suppose you know, huh?’
‘Know what?’
‘About me and Johan.’
‘I talked to him,’ Chris admitted. ‘He told me about you two. And about Ashlynn.’
‘How is he? Is he okay?’
‘He’ll be fine.’
‘Can I see him? Where is he?’
‘Olivia, it would be better if you didn’t talk to him for a while, until we get your legal situation straightened out.’
‘What does that mean?’
‘It means you’re both witnesses in a murder investigation, and witnesses shouldn’t talk to each other.’
Olivia’s lower lip bulged unhappily. ‘You think he was the one who killed her, don’t you?’
‘What do you think?’
‘Johan wouldn’t do that.’
‘If that’s true, why were you protecting him?’ Chris said.
‘You didn’t tell me that you talked to him that night. That sounds to me like you think he did it.’
‘All I know is Ashlynn was alive when I left her,’ Olivia said.
‘When I heard she was dead, I thought – well, I knew Johan would go out to the ghost town to rescue her.’
Chris nodded. ‘Yes, he did. He said she was dead when he got there.’
‘You don’t believe him.’
‘I don’t know, but it sounds like Ashlynn broke his heart. I think people, even good people, can do things they regret in the heat of the moment.’ He added, ‘You had a motive, too, Olivia. You should have told me about it. The police will think you hated Ashlynn because she took away your boyfriend, and that’s why you shot her.’
Olivia sighed. ‘She did steal Johan from me. I’m not going to pretend I wasn’t angry.’
He didn’t like to hear her confessing emotions that made her look guilty, but he also knew that she was finally being honest with him. He needed more details. He needed the whole story. ‘Do you feel strong enough to talk?’ he asked.
‘Yeah. I’m okay.’
‘Tell me the truth,’ he said.
