Page 129 of Forever Gone

The old thread surfaced again. Deb had been the firmest voice. She told Carol that returning to Andrew would teach him he could control her by waiting. She encouraged a clean break and praised the decision to enter mediation.

“I was trying to support you,” Deb said. “You asked for help.”

“You were the most certain of all.”

An engine approached outside.

Carol’s attention shifted toward the window.

Headlights moved across the curtains, turning the fabric white for an instant before sliding toward the side of the house. The vehicle stopped near the road.

Deb turned carefully.

A dark sedan stood beyond the front path. Two women got out, moving quickly. The first had dark hair and carried herself with the authority Deb recognized from local news reports.

Selena Raven.

The second woman stayed close beside her.

Both drew handguns as they advanced toward the house.

Relief rose so fast that Deb nearly called out.

She stopped herself.

Carol sat within reach.

Deb turned back toward the table.

Carol was smiling.

The object from beneath her blouse now rested beside her plate. A large knife with a narrow, partially serrated blade around six inches long and a worn handle. Scratches ran through the steel where it caught the dining-room light. The empty leather sheath remained clipped inside Carol’s waistband.

Carol closed her fingers around the handle.

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

Selena stopped beside the mailbox.

Deb Mosley’s dining room glowed behind cream curtains. The silhouettes of two figures moved somewhere beyond them, but the fabric and glare made it impossible to distinguish either woman.

Wind pushed leaves along the road and rattled the bare upper branches above the roof. Kelly halted at Selena’s shoulder, weapon held low near her thigh.

The front door remained closed. Carol’s silver Honda sat at the curb facing away from them, ready to pull straight onto the road. Deb’s car occupied the drive.

No neighboring curtains moved. The nearest porch light belonged to a house beyond a stand of maples, too far away for anyone there to hear a struggle through closed windows. The branches behind Deb’s roof shifted against a sky without stars.

Selena pictured the fourth packet on Carol’s desk. Deb outside Harry’s Print Shop. Deb eating lunch in William Screech Square. Deb’s new address written beneath a photograph crossed through at the mouth. At the bottom of the page, Friday and eight o’clock.

Seven fifty-three showed on Selena’s watch.

Kelly glanced toward the empty street behind them. “Should we wait for Kelvin?”

“No. Deb may already be hurt.”

“That’s the answer I wanted.”

Selena took out her radio. “Kelvin, status?”