Wolfhunter River (Stillhouse Lake #3)(38)

It’s a precaution taken by activists at marches. I start wondering exactly how bad a vibe she got from the Wolfhunter cops, and what the hell I’m risking dragging my kids into. I look at Sam, and I see the same reservations, but he’s not going to let me go alone, and I’m not leaving them here to fend off this video hit squad that Miranda Tidewell has sent to destroy what’s left of my reputation. Whatever comes in Wolfhunter, we’ll handle it the way we’ve done everything: together.

I let Sam and the kids go ahead of me out to the SUV; I hand Sam my duffel as he passes, and he nods. He knows that I want a more private conversation. So I shut the door and turn to Kez. “You didn’t tell me these so-called documentary filmmakers were in town when we came to see you,” I say. “Why not?”

“I’m a servant of the public when I’m at work,” she replies. “They weren’t breaking any laws, and honestly, I didn’t see setting your temper on fire would do anybody any good. You go at them, you’ll just make their case, they’ll win a bunch of awards, and your life turns to shit. Just stay away. That’s the best thing you can do: Don’t give them anything to work with.”

She’s right, of course. “That’s another reason why it’s good to get out of town,” I say. “Because I can’t guarantee that if they shove a camera in my face, I won’t shove it up their asses.”

“Yeah. That’s kind of what I was afraid of.” She studies me. Sharp as broken glass, just like her father. “You still seeing that therapist?”

“Why? Does it show?”

“Not to most people. You went through hell, Gwen. Give yourself a break. Let yourself heal up before you get yourself into another fight.”

“I appreciate the concern, but you know I don’t even have a choice.”

She shakes her head. “Just try to keep out of trouble. Please. You know I’ll back your play if I can, so will Javi, but there’s a line I can’t cross, and you’re going to be way outside my jurisdiction.”

“I know,” I tell her. We hug. Two women wearing shoulder harnesses under our jackets, which says a lot about how we view the world. “Watch your back.”

“You too.”

I set the alarm, lock up, and head for the SUV as Kezia walks to her boxy, city-issued sedan. She trails us down the road to where it splits, right for the exit to the highway, left to keep heading around to the other side of the lake. Her headlights disappear off the other way, and we stop at the highway. Sam looks at the navigation on the phone mounted to the dash.

“Hour and a half out,” he says. Glances at me in the light of the dashboard. “You sure?”

“I’m sure,” I tell him. “Let’s go.”

As we leave Stillhouse Lake, I feel a tiny, guilty bit of relief. Like I’m running away from my problems, dumping them and escaping into the unknown, the way I had before.

But it’s false, that feeling. Escaping was always temporary. Problems always caught up to me.

But, I remind myself, I’m not doing this for myself.

Not this time.



The roads out to Wolfhunter are narrow and winding, and despite the moonlight, very dark. Headlights seem to go dim on these roads, and I’m glad Sam is driving, not me. The trees close in on either side until they’re a solid mass. It feels claustrophobic.

We hardly see another car or truck along the way; a couple pass us flooring it past the speed limit, and a few more head in the opposite direction. An eighteen-wheeler rounds a curve swinging wide, and Sam slows down to let it clear out. This isn’t a road friendly to large trailers. It’s hard enough in a well-driven SUV.

There aren’t any working gas stations, just a couple of spaces hacked out of the tree line with empty, weathered buildings and faded signs. We don’t see much of anything else. Lanny opts to nap, head resting against the side window behind Sam; when I check the rearview mirror, I see that Connor’s reading a book by the light of his phone. “You’ll ruin your eyes doing that,” I tell him. He doesn’t even look up.

“That’s not even close to true,” he says.

“Says who?”

“Science.”

“Hey, can you do me a favor?”

Connor looks at me, a little frown wrinkling the skin between his eyebrows, which are now raised. “What?”

“Look up Wolfhunter and see what you can find out about the town.”

He puts his book down. “Seriously?”

“Yeah, seriously. I’d like to know what we’re walking into. You’re one of the best researchers I know.”

“Wait, one of the best?”

“Well, okay. Maybe the best.”

That pleases him, though he doesn’t want me to see it. He puts the book away and starts tapping on his phone at lightning speed I can’t even hope to approach with my older, broader fingers. Sam looks over and gives me a smile. I return it. Making Connor feel useful is important; he’s spent so much time second-guessing himself recently. Getting his head into something else is good.

Sam’s smile fades, and he turns his attention quickly back to the road. I know he’s hurting inside, not just from what’s between the two of us, but from that damn journal. Melvin wouldn’t have arranged for it to be sent if it hadn’t been a time bomb designed to harm, even destroy. And I don’t know what it said.