“You're the only person I know who can look so good when they're crying,” I tell her.

  I know my voice sounds weak and scratchy, but she still laughs through the new tears falling from her eyes.

  “You do, too,” she says.

  “No, I don't. My mascara comes off, and I look like I'm melting,” I say. I can’t believe it. I’m alive. I’m not dead in a basement. Not burned in a house fire. I’m safe and joking with Bellamy right now.

  This isn’t a dream, right?

  “Then we'll just have to not let you have as many reasons to cry,” Eric adds, coming up to the side of my bed.

  “That's always kind of the goal, isn't it?” I chuckle weakly. I look between them. “How are you both here? Did the hospital call you?”

  “No. You did,” Eric explains.

  “What?” I ask, trying to pull myself up. I wince in pain. Definitely not a dream.

  Bellamy reaches down and adjusts the bed, helping me prop up the pillows behind me so I can still rest back on them.

  “Well, not a call, exactly. But you did email me. Next time I'd appreciate a little bit of a heads up when you're going to send me pictures like that.”

  “How did you get that email? I didn't have any service in the basement,” I point out.

  “You must have gotten it at some point because it came through. It was the middle of the night, so I didn't get it until a few hours later. I'm sorry,” he says.

  “You got it, that's all the matters. I took all those pictures and attached them to an email to you when I first got down into the sub-basement, but there was no service. I was locked down there for hours. The service must have kicked back in and sent the queued email when I escaped and ran out into the woods,” I explain.

  “You escaped?” Bellamy asks.

  “Briefly. But he found me and knocked me out so he could drag me back into the house. I put up as much of a fight as I could.”

  “You can't blame yourself,” Eric says. “This is a man who has killed at least fifteen people.”

  “More than that,” I say, recounting the story Jake told me of the vigilante murders.

  “Holy shit,” he gasps. “You got out of the hands of a man who has killed much bigger, much stronger people. And because you did, that email got sent. The timing was apparently perfect. The field team you requested was consulting with the local police, literally the moment I called. I described what I saw and tracked your phone to the closest it would place you. The police chief knew immediately where I was talking about. They got to the house just in time to see it go up in flames and the two of you fall off the roof.”

  “What happened to Jake?” I ask.

  Both Eric and Bellamy stiffen, but I don't care. He's still a human being. One who has been tortured and tormented in a way none of us will ever understand.

  “He survived the fall. We peeled the two of you out of some overgrown hedges. You got the better of it. The way he fell made him hit a rock wall and then land in the bushes. He's not doing well, but they expect him to recover. As of now, there's a war going on over who gets their hands on him first,” Eric explains. “I think the FBI is coming out on top. Considering one of our own cracked the case.”

  “You make me sound like I should be wearing a fedora and chewing tobacco,” I mutter, my head still throbbing. “How is Creagan taking it?”

  “Right now, he's in the thick of it all. He led the team into the house and found all the bodies. They've been linking them to all the missing persons cases. Some of them are a bit trickier than others.”

  “Why?” I ask.

  Bellamy and Eric exchange glances. He looks worried about her, and she releases my hand, grabbing a bucket from beside me.

  “I'll go get you some ice chips,” she says.

  “I'm not giving birth, Bellamy,” I call weakly after her, but she doesn't turn back.

  “Some of the bodies weren't complete. A few of them have parts from others stitched onto them. The theory until we can get more out of Jake is that the original parts were damaged in some way, so he replaced them,” Eric explains.

  I remember the bodies that didn't look exactly right and realize it was because they were pieced together. I shudder.

  “So, they have to find out who those parts belong to,” I muse.

  Eric nods. “It will probably take a good while. There are a lot of missing persons cases floating around in the surrounding areas, and this might wrap up quite a few of them. At this point, it's pretty much a mess, and everyone is just starting to unravel it all. You're going to be a lot of help in that.”

  I nod, acknowledging that I'm only at the beginning of all this, but wishing I never had to think about it again. I'm glad it's over, at least this part of it, but this isn't like any other case I've ever worked on. I'm not going to be able to just put it behind me and move on it like I've been able to before. This is something I will always carry with me.

  “How could I not know?” I whisper.

  “Emma, don't do that to yourself,” Eric says.

  “No, but how? This is my career, my entire life. The entire reason I was sent to Feathered Nest was because of this case. It was my job to figure out what was going on because no one else was able to. And I managed to, on the very first day I was there, attach myself to the man who did it. And I couldn't even tell. I was so wrapped up in the theory I had; I couldn't see what was really happening.”

  “He wasn't going to let you see what was really happening. He's been fooling people for years. Well before all this started. You know that. You can't blame yourself for not immediately looking at him and knowing it was him. If it was that easy, none of us would have jobs.”

  “But I shouldn't have let myself get close to him to start with. I should have been focusing on my job and not… whatever that was.”

  “You’ve been through a lot in the last few months. No one blames you for wanting to find comfort in somebody. And you managed to get through this not only alive but with all the evidence we are ever going to need to make sure Jake never hurts anyone ever again.”

  “What about all the people he already hurt?” I ask.

  “You can't make that go away. You can't go back in time and save them. But you did give them their voices back. You gave their families the ability to bury their loved ones and know what happened to them. And you prevented anyone else from having to feel that because of him.”

  “I want to petition to have the courts change his wife's death certificate to murder,” I say.

  “Alright,” Eric nods. “But why?”

  “Because she deserves her voice and to have her story told, too.”

  Bellamy comes back into the room with a bucket of ice and a can of ginger ale. She fills a plastic cup with the ice and pours the sparkling drink down over it. It passes over my lips as one of the most delicious tastes I've ever had. I realize it must be almost forty-eight hours since I took a drink. That explains the IV in my arm, pumping fluids into me. I'm aware of my friends talking, but I can't pay attention to the words they're saying. My mind is still swimming, my brain fogs up again, and finally, my eyes close.

  When I wake up again, Eric and Bellamy are sitting across the room, talking quietly as they eat from Chinese takeout containers.

  “Did you order me egg drop soup?” I croak.

  Bellamy smiles and carries a container over to the bed, handing it to me along with a deep spoon.

  “I still don't think that's the best thing for her right now,” Eric frowns.

  “The doctor didn't say she couldn't have it,” Bellamy points out.

  “Did the doctor say she could have it?” Eric asks.

  “Technicality.”

  I smile and take a few bites of the soup. I want to think about anything but Jake and the case, but it seems like there isn't anything else to think about.

  “Have they found Jake's mother, brother, and sister?” I ask.

  “You should try to rest. There's going to be plenty of time for you to think about this when you get out,” Bellamy says, but I shake my head.

  “No. The sooner this all gets resolved, the better. I'm not going to stop working just because I fell off a burning roof. Did they find them? They're going to need to be a part of the investigation. They need to be around to corroborate the stories he told about his father and explain themselves and their role in his childhood. They can give insight into his mindset and experiences that no one else can.”

  “They've traced his mother and sister. Both of them are coming in within the next couple of days. They're still looking for his brother. There doesn't seem to be any trace of him in years, but that doesn't mean much. He very easily could have changed his identity and moved to another country or just fallen off the grid. But we'll keep looking for him. If nothing else, I think it's probably a good idea for everybody who's ever come in contact with Jake to be accounted for,” Eric says.

  “They need to run a DNA test on Cole Barnes. I think he's Jake's father,” I say.

  I know I'm going to come in contact with Jake again in the near future. I'll also probably encounter his mother and sister. I don't know how to feel about any of it. Part of me has compassion for them. I can see how all this will horrify his mother and sister. It will be incredibly hard for them. This is something they’ll have to live with for the rest of their lives, knowing they contributed to Jake's complete breakdown and to tremendous losses of life.

  But at the same time, they put Jake through hell. They let the man he thought was his father mistreat him, and they abandoned him when he was far too young to have to go through all that alone. They are, at the very least, partly to blame for this. Not that they made him do it, or it's an excuse, but they are most definitely a contributing factor. I will have no hesitation telling them that. They need to understand what they did and the damage it caused.

  But I also know after everything, Jake doesn't really deserve much of my compassion. He knew exactly what he was doing. That will have to sit alongside all the other feelings I ever had for him, and I will live with it, dealing with it every day as I move forward.

  Epilogue

  Bellamy and Eric offered to clean all of my stuff out of the cabin, so I didn't have to go there again, but I didn't take them up on it. I felt like I needed to come here again to try to get some sort of conclusion and closure to everything I experienced in Feathered Nest. I don't know if that's really possible. Part of me will linger here, and there won't ever really be any closure. But coming back here and being able to put the finishing moments on the job gets me closer.

  My bags are packed, and I carry them out of the bedroom and into the living room. I've already cleaned out the kitchen and tucked away all the dishes I used. The furnace hums along smoothly, keeping the space warm. Clancy will be by later to deactivate it, putting it to sleep until the next time somebody comes to visit.

  I have a feeling it won't be long. As soon as the story of what happened here spreads, people will flock to stay in the cabin on the lake and explore the woods. They crave the mystery. People like that bring me back to my theory of the atmosphere of being stained by crime. Maybe they can see it and feel it in a way other people can't. They flock to them to remember those spaces and never let them forget.

  All that's left is packing up the remaining papers I have. Most of my notes and pictures are with Creagan to be used in the investigation, but I still have some of the original clippings and papers I brought with me. They'll go home with me and get tucked away into a case file, then put on a shelf in my house just like all my other cases. I never look through those books, but they're there. One day long after my time with the bureau is done and I retire, maybe I'll take them down and flip through them, remembering these days. I can share them with my children and hopefully inspire some of the same pride as my father always did in me.

  I hear a knock on my door just as I'm slipping the last of the papers into my satchel. I look back over my shoulder and see Eric at the door.

  “You ready?” he asks.

  “I think so,” I nod. “Actually, can you bring these to the car? I need just one more minute.”

  “Sure.”

  He takes the bags and walks out of the cabin, closing the door behind him. I wait until his steps leave the porch and walk back into the bedroom. Opening the top drawer of the dresser, I reach in and pull out the thimble. I tuck it into my pocket, draw in one more breath, and walk away, leaving the bed perfectly made and spread with the crazy quilt.

  Eric looks over at me when I climb into the passenger seat.

  “Are you okay?” he asks.

  “Yep,” I tell him, reaching behind me to get my seatbelt. I wince at the pain that radiates through me at the twisting motion. “Mostly. Did they already come for the car?”

  “Yeah. They towed it over to the police station to use as evidence. I can't believe you drove around with that glass in your back seat.”

  “I can't believe I'm actually going to miss that thing.”

  He laughs and turns the engine over. We pull away from the cabin and down the long driveway. Bellamy has already gone home, and I can imagine she's at work filling my freezer with whatever she comes up with, so I have meals to warm up during my time off.

  I told Creagan I was going to take the vacation I haven't taken in the last three years, and he didn't argue. But I'm not planning on staying home for all of it. As a reward for the success of this job, he turned the other way when Eric slipped me a bit of information they found about Greg's disappearance. I plan on following up on it as soon as I'm feeling back to normal.

  “How long are you planning on staying in Maine?” Eric asks.

  “As long as I need to. It depends on what I can find while I'm there,” I shrug.

  “And then?”

  “And then, I don't know. Creagan still won't let me be a part of the investigation, and I think his goodwill towards me is only going to last but so long. I'm not sure how much interference he's going to tolerate. I might just have to pass along anything I find out to you and hope for more.”

  “Somehow, I don't think that's actually what you're going to do,” he smiles.

  “We'll see.”

  “And if nothing pans out? Are you going to go visit Florida?”

  He knows how much my heart longs for the state. The water parks. The burn of the concrete on my feet. I could definitely use some time to let my bones thaw from this miserable weather.

  But I reach into the pocket of my hooded sweatshirt and pull out the printed picture inside. Looking down at the image of my parents, young and smiling, my father's skin touched with gold; I focus on the vaguely familiar face between them.

  “How do you feel about Iowa?”

  THE END

  Gone Woman (Sneak Peek)

  In a peaceful small town, a young woman disappeared from her home without a trace.

  But when the truth is discovered, Mary’s life could be at stake…

  It’s the holidays and Mary Whitman has the perfect life. A beautiful home built just for her, and a blissful marriage to her adoring husband. But a terrible accident left her with no memories of her past and a lifelong illness. An illness that keeps her confined in her home. She's plagued by nightmares and haunted by a face of a woman and an empty nursery.

  As memories start to resurface of people she shouldn’t know and moments she shouldn’t have. Mary is left to wonder how lost she really is. When life with her perfect husband begins to unravel and she sees what seethes below the pristine surface. She begins to uncover the dark truth and learns that there might be more than just her memories that she must save.

  Will Mary be able to uncover the mysteries of her past?

  One thing is for certain… Some truths are far too sinister and may be best left buried.

  Click here now to read Gone Woman

  Staying In Touch With A.J.

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  A J Rivers, The Girl in Cabin 13

 

 

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