life—never stolen so much as a crumb. And the previous night, after Willem had left her apartment, it hadn’t even been a question for her. No matter what, she would never betray Mr. Vanderzee that way. She would never let anything—even a death threat—take her integrity.
But as the day had worn on and the same haunting image of Willem frequented her mind—the one of him as a child, making her promise to always protect him—she found her determination waning. She found her palms sweaty and her hands trembling. She found her head aching and her stomach in knots. She found her mind distant and her heart heavy. Even Mr. Vanderzee had stepped outside his cold boundaries that morning and asked what troubled her. She would never tell him, though, never ask for the favor. It would only weaken her in his eyes, and he would always refuse. So she’d simply smiled and taken his dishes to the sink, side-stepping the question.
But she had to do something .
Willem. Shot point-blank in the head.
A swelling sickness rose in her stomach, leaving her faint, and she ran to the bathroom just in time for the recently polished toilet to catch her heaving stomach. How she threw anything up was beyond comprehension, since she hadn’t eaten since the evening before. And she threw up until her stomach was a hard knot, having nothing left to give the toilet.
Still, no tears. Just a sick stomach, clammy hands, and an acrid taste in her mouth.
She flushed the toilet, washed her face, rinsed her mouth, and left the bathroom. Picking up her phone, she dialed Willem’s number, all the while fingering the locket around her neck. Her father had given it to her for her fourteenth birthday: a long silver chain with an engraved circular locket at the end, stuffed with a picture of her as a child on one side and a seven-year-old Willem on the other. He’d told her it was so she would always remember who Willem really was. So she would remember they were a pair.
“Beth,” Willem answered in a panic. “You change your mind?”
Closing her eyes, she gritted her teeth. She hated herself, along with him. “I’ll meet you and the Paddock brothers tonight. I’ll have it all.”
Chapter 5
A light knock roused Elizabeth from a sleep so deep even dreams eluded her. With half her face in the pillow, her eyelids opened with difficulty. She could tell by the gray-lit motel room it was just barely past sunrise, and her heavy eyelids began to close again. The knock sounded a second time, louder than the first. A timid voice followed, muffled through the door. “I’m sorry, Ms. Ashton.”
Elizabeth tried not to groan while escaping the sheets twisted around her. She wiped her eyes on her way to the door and opened it to find Anita Thurman, eyes apologetic and hands holding Elizabeth’s jacket. The neckline of her flowery, simple blouse was lower than her sweater had been the previous night, displaying a small golden cross dangling from her neck. Her hair—auburn with an accent of silver—had been neatly pinned back with gold-colored barrettes on both sides and her almost nonexistent eyelashes were free of makeup.
“I’m very sorry,” Anita said. “I didn’t want to wake you, but Sheriff says the sooner he and Brian can get your car back here, the better. They’ll be waiting at the diner for you.” She held out her jacket. “Here. You left this in the office last night.”
Elizabeth took it while tucking her hair, which was a ratted mess, behind her ear. Her jacket wasn’t just dry. “You…cleaned it?”
“Oh, it was nothing. Just wiped some of the mud off is all.”
“Anita, thank you. For all the trouble.”
“It’s no trouble at all, Ms. Ashton. We’re just happy to have you, as temporary as it may be.”
“Please, it’s Beth.”
“All right, Beth.” Anita smiled, displaying a charming set of crow’s-feet at the corners of her eyes. There was a certain shyness, or innocence, Elizabeth liked about her. She
But as the day had worn on and the same haunting image of Willem frequented her mind—the one of him as a child, making her promise to always protect him—she found her determination waning. She found her palms sweaty and her hands trembling. She found her head aching and her stomach in knots. She found her mind distant and her heart heavy. Even Mr. Vanderzee had stepped outside his cold boundaries that morning and asked what troubled her. She would never tell him, though, never ask for the favor. It would only weaken her in his eyes, and he would always refuse. So she’d simply smiled and taken his dishes to the sink, side-stepping the question.
But she had to do something .
Willem. Shot point-blank in the head.
A swelling sickness rose in her stomach, leaving her faint, and she ran to the bathroom just in time for the recently polished toilet to catch her heaving stomach. How she threw anything up was beyond comprehension, since she hadn’t eaten since the evening before. And she threw up until her stomach was a hard knot, having nothing left to give the toilet.
Still, no tears. Just a sick stomach, clammy hands, and an acrid taste in her mouth.
She flushed the toilet, washed her face, rinsed her mouth, and left the bathroom. Picking up her phone, she dialed Willem’s number, all the while fingering the locket around her neck. Her father had given it to her for her fourteenth birthday: a long silver chain with an engraved circular locket at the end, stuffed with a picture of her as a child on one side and a seven-year-old Willem on the other. He’d told her it was so she would always remember who Willem really was. So she would remember they were a pair.
“Beth,” Willem answered in a panic. “You change your mind?”
Closing her eyes, she gritted her teeth. She hated herself, along with him. “I’ll meet you and the Paddock brothers tonight. I’ll have it all.”
Chapter 5
A light knock roused Elizabeth from a sleep so deep even dreams eluded her. With half her face in the pillow, her eyelids opened with difficulty. She could tell by the gray-lit motel room it was just barely past sunrise, and her heavy eyelids began to close again. The knock sounded a second time, louder than the first. A timid voice followed, muffled through the door. “I’m sorry, Ms. Ashton.”
Elizabeth tried not to groan while escaping the sheets twisted around her. She wiped her eyes on her way to the door and opened it to find Anita Thurman, eyes apologetic and hands holding Elizabeth’s jacket. The neckline of her flowery, simple blouse was lower than her sweater had been the previous night, displaying a small golden cross dangling from her neck. Her hair—auburn with an accent of silver—had been neatly pinned back with gold-colored barrettes on both sides and her almost nonexistent eyelashes were free of makeup.
“I’m very sorry,” Anita said. “I didn’t want to wake you, but Sheriff says the sooner he and Brian can get your car back here, the better. They’ll be waiting at the diner for you.” She held out her jacket. “Here. You left this in the office last night.”
Elizabeth took it while tucking her hair, which was a ratted mess, behind her ear. Her jacket wasn’t just dry. “You…cleaned it?”
“Oh, it was nothing. Just wiped some of the mud off is all.”
“Anita, thank you. For all the trouble.”
“It’s no trouble at all, Ms. Ashton. We’re just happy to have you, as temporary as it may be.”
“Please, it’s Beth.”
“All right, Beth.” Anita smiled, displaying a charming set of crow’s-feet at the corners of her eyes. There was a certain shyness, or innocence, Elizabeth liked about her. She
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