“Checked out by Dave and the doctor. She’ll be fine, too.” He saw she’d shed some tears, was struggling with them now. “You’ve talked to Lee.”

“I told him to go on. He has so much to do, and nothing he could do here. I need to call my mama and daddy, but…”

“It can wait.” He folded her in.

“Oh God, my God, Zane, that he would come back here after all these years. Try to hurt you again. Worse. I think worse. He killed Eliza, you know he must have killed Eliza.”

“I know.” He stroked her back, tried to soothe the trembling, and finally just pressed his lips to the top of her head. “Let go, just let go.”

When she did, the strongest woman he knew clung to him, let loose a torrent of sobs. So he held and stroked and swayed, and said nothing.

“I don’t know why I’m acting like this. You’re not hurt. Both you and Lee told me Darby’s going to be okay. I need to go see her, but … And that bastard is in custody. In the hospital thanks to that amazing girl, and in custody. We’re safe. We’re all safe. My family’s safe.”

“Your sister’s dead.”

“Oh, Zane.” She drew back, swiped her hands at the tears. “I can’t even bring her face into my head. I can’t see her.”

“Sit down. I’m going to get you some water, some Kleenex.”

He brought out water for both of them, nudged the box of tissues in front of her. She pulled some out, blew her nose, wiped her face.

“We never bonded,” she said at length. “We always seemed to be at odds. A lot of siblings are at odds at various times. Jesus, Gabe and Brody went through a couple periods where they weren’t happy unless they were bickering or picking on each other. But there’s a bond between them. Eliza and I never, never had one.”

“You’re opposites,” Zane put in. “You never had anything in common.”

“I never loved her. At least I don’t remember a time I loved her. I’m not ashamed of that. It’s not my fault.”

“No, it’s not. So why are you feeling guilty because you didn’t love her?”

Emily let out a sigh. “I don’t know. Honestly don’t.” She reached down to pet the dog that sat loyally at her feet. “But I am sorry I didn’t love her, couldn’t love her. I’m sorry she’s dead, and sorry her own choices most likely led to her death. I’m sorry for the grief my parents will feel because they did love her.”

He took her hand. “We’ll be there for them. That’s who we are.”

“And we’ll do our duty. Have you talked to Britt?”

“Yeah, she’s all right, too. In fact … I should probably let her tell you, but I’m going to spring it. She’s pregnant with your next grandbaby.”

“She…” The tears spilled again, but Emily shook her head, pointed at her face. “Good ones. Really good ones. It’s not just life moving on, Zane, it’s life thriving.”

She laid a hand on his cheek. “And that’s just what we’ll do.”

Zane would move on, and he hoped like hell to thrive. But he had business to finish first.

* * *

When Zane arrived at the hospital in Asheville, Lee was waiting for him outside the ER.

“I figured there was no point telling you not to make the trip.”

“No point,” Zane agreed.

“I’m going to let you talk to him—after I do. Right now they’re putting him in a room. They want him here a couple hours before we transport him back to Raleigh.”

“That’s time enough.”

“It is.” Lee put a hand on Zane’s shoulder. “Let’s walk a bit. It’s a lot more peaceful out here than it is inside. Don’t know how much he’ll have to say.”

Zane stuck a hand in his pocket, gripped it around the baseball he’d put there. “Has he asked for a lawyer?”

“Not yet. But seeing as they wired up his jaw, he’s not doing a lot of talking. Fixed his nose, from what they tell me, did their X-rays and whatnot. Seems like she bashed his balls real good, too.”

“I need to buy her flowers. A lot of flowers.”

Lee smiled, then let out a sigh. “I can’t be sorry she did a lot more damage to him than he did to her. So while we’re walking here I’ll tell you what we’ve been able to piece together.”

“He killed Eliza. There’s no question of it.”

“I’m not arguing, but we need the autopsy results. I can tell you he had a job at a medical supply store, and called in sick a couple days. Statements from neighbors say they saw him, in and out up to Saturday, but hadn’t seen her since last Thursday. Next-door neighbor saw her step out into the backyard Thursday afternoon, before he got home. Not since.”

“So he killed her Thursday night.”

“I expect so, but we’ll wait for confirmation. I’ve been in contact with the detectives in Raleigh. It seems his supervisor didn’t report him when he didn’t show up to work yesterday, as he called in sick. Sundays and Mondays are his days off.”

Zane nodded. “So he likely left after work on Saturday, took his time getting here, probably used back roads, paid cash for rooms, for gas, whatever.”

“They’re working on tracking him. So are we. We’ve got him staying two nights at a motel off 40. Confiscated an iPad, some cash from the room, a notebook—the paper kind. More cash in the car he parked at the scenic pullout below the road to your place.”

Lee scratched his chin. “A lot in the notebook, starting with a list of names.”

Britt nailed it, Zane thought. “His revenge list.”

“I’d say. Lots of details on just what he held against the ones on the list, what he knew about them—where they lived, what they did. Ideas for how to pay them back.”

“Me, he’d want to beat to death. You?”

Lee walked on a bit more. “I’m not telling this to Emily or the boys. There’s no need for it. His top choice there was to set our house on fire, with us inside.”

“Jesus Christ, Lee. He lost his mind.” Zane held up a hand, shifted to the lawyer, the prosecutor. “Whoever takes his case will try for that—try an insanity defense, but I’m telling you it won’t wash. Calling in sick to buy time, the broken window to draw me away, the cash, the careful planning—because you bet your ass he planned every step. He won’t meet the bar for legal insanity.”

Zane worked it out in his head. “He left the stuff in the motel because he wasn’t done with it. He planned to go back, check out, after he took care of me, of Darby. Unless he…”

It wouldn’t have been enough, Zane thought, ignoring the sound of oncoming sirens as an ambulance pulled in.

It wouldn’t have been finished.

“He’s always been an arrogant son of a bitch, Lee. He would’ve planned to go after Britt, Emily, and your family. Dave and his—anybody in Lakeview on his list. We’re all to blame, and he’d have wanted to deal with all of us before he moved on.”

“I’m not arguing there either, but he’ll never get the chance now. Crazy or sane, he’s going back in, Zane, and he won’t be coming out again.”

“Let me sit in on your interview. I won’t say anything,” Zane continued quickly. “And if he objects to me being there, I’ll leave. I don’t think he will. You want a confession to wrap this up right and tight? Let me sit in.”

Lee paced back and forth a minute, fought a brief internal war. “Here’s what I’ll do. You sit in, you say nothing till I’m done with him. He wants you out, you go out. You mess up my interview, you and me, we’re going to have a long, unpleasant conversation.”

“Won’t be necessary. I appreciate it, Lee.”

“Well, come on then. Let’s see if they’ve cleared him to talk—such as he can.”

They’d made some changes to the ER over the years, and this time Zane walked in unharmed and free. But the memories rolled back on him, the pain, the fear. His arm ached in response; his throat went burning dry.

He said nothing while Lee cleared them through, nothing in the elevator.

“I’ve got an officer on the door,” Lee told him, “and Silas inside with him. No chances.”

Zane merely nodded.

Lee showed his badge at the nurse’s station, kept moving.

“You go on, take a break, Donny,” he told the officer on the door. “I’ll let you know when we’re done.”

“Sure thing, Chief.”

Silas stood when Lee and Zane walked in, set aside the magazine he’d leafed through.

This time, Graham lay cuffed with his face a symphony of bruises and bandages. The beeping monitor took a jump, telling Zane that Graham’s heartbeat spiked when he looked Graham in the black and swollen eyes.

“How about you turn on that recorder, Silas, so Mr. Bigelow and I can have a talk.”

Graham’s response came harsh and clipped between clenched teeth. “Doctor.”

“Not anymore and not for some time. You can go on, get some coffee, Silas.” Lee pointed to the chair Silas vacated.

Zane sat.

“This is Lakeview chief of police Lee Keller interviewing Graham Bigelow after he’s been medically cleared to talk. You’ve been read your rights, Mr. Bigelow? We’ve got that on record, too, but it’s good to ask, right?”