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Gus had stabbed the man directly in the liver.
“He killed my daughter,” Gus sobbed as Bit all but dragged the man far enough away to allow Brook to kneel beside Jace. “He killed my baby girl. He killed…”
“Jace, stay with me,” Brook ordered as she pressed the jacket against the wound. He instinctively grabbed her wrist while she confirmed that the knife was off to the side. It must have fallen from Gus’ hand at some point before he’d taken a step back. “Look at me, Jace. Your wife is on the way. You want to talk to her, right?”
Jace tried to nod, but the slight movement had caused blood to sputter from his lips. She didn’t let on that anything was wrong as she continued to talk to him. The tip of the knife must have punctured his lungs, as well as his liver. Unfortunately, nothing she said at this point would keep Jace alive long enough to reveal the burial sites of Carissa Norman and Helen Beckham. Brook had hoped to give their families some form of closure, but Carissa’s father had taken the matter out of Brook’s hands.
Gus Norman had chosen to go about attaining such accord in a different way. He hadn’t thought about the price or the consequences. Grief had become his blinders. He’d acted on a father’s instinct. Some would commend his actions while others would condemn them.
Jace’s grip around her wrist loosened, and Brook slowly released the pressure on his wound. She ceased speaking as she leaned back on the heels of her boots. As he took his last breath, the echoes of his sins remained and would forever be heard.
Chapter Twenty-Four
Brooklyn Sloane
October 2023
Saturday — 9:28am
Vermontcouldonlybedescribed as a breathtaking mosaic of vibrant reds, oranges, and yellows. It was as if a beautiful painting had either come to life or had somehow pulled its painter into a world of warm serenity. The air carried a hint of earthiness, mostly due to the tinge of wood smoke rising from some of the chimneys in the quaint suburb. The two-story house nestled in among the other New England styled homes was adorned with a warm palette of earthy tones. Carved pumpkins had been placed on each step in preparation for the holiday, an aged wooden swing swayed gently back and forth in the light breeze, and a peaked roof with dark shingles protected those within.
Brook could understand why Sarah Evanston would choose to return to her childhood home, but nothing could protect her from Jacob Walsh. The former reporter had inadvertently hung a red neon sign above her mother’s house. According to Agent Houser, nothing he’d said to Sarah had any impact on her decision to leave the witness protection program.
Brook was hoping to remedy that this morning.
Since she’d flown straight from North Carolina to Vermont, she’d made sure to have one of her business suits dry-cleaned at Moonshine Valley’s tailor. She needed to address Sarah as a professional rather than just Jacob’s sister. To do that, Brook had dressed as she would upon meeting a potential client.
It had taken a total of three days to wrap up the Mather investigation. Theo and Bit were still in Moonshine Valley to finish up some paperwork in tandem with the park rangers and the sheriff’s office. Theo and Riggs had guided a federal forensics team to the third location. The investigation would be seen through to the end, regardless that Jace Mather’s was dead. Should trace evidence be found that could tie the burnt structure to Carissa Norman, the results could help Gus Norman during his trial.
Brook had treated Otto to dinner last night, and the two of them also had a long discussion with Irene. Otto had offered to speak to the parole board on behalf of Ned and explain that he’d only crossed state lines and missed his parole check-ins due to fear. It was doubtful such testimony would reduce the additional time in prison, but no one ever really knew which way a judge would rule on those types of charges.
It seemed that a lot of situations hinged on what someone said nowadays, and today was no exception.
Brook had taken time to survey the immediate surroundings as she walked up the porch steps. The neighborhood was relatively quiet, and there didn’t seem to be a lot of through traffic. As such, it would be more difficult for someone to monitor the occupants’ activities.
Brook pressed the doorbell. It was the old-fashioned one without anything fancy. No hidden camera, no alarm system. There was a slight pause before she heard the muffled chime through the side window. She’d almost expected barking, but the following silence told her otherwise. A few moments later, a shadow could be seen through the thin stained-glass window in the center of the door.
“Ms. Evanston?”
Jemma Evanston seemed to have aged ten years in the past seventeen months. She’d stopped coloring her hair, and she’d lost a tremendous amount of weight. Brook had met Sarah’s mother at the hospital when her daughter had been undergoing surgery to save her life. Unfortunately, mother and daughter had to say goodbye to each other while Sarah had still been in recovery.
“Hello, Ms. Sloane.” The woman’s cold tone wasn’t unexpected, and Brook recalled how Theo had diffused a rather emotional situation in the waiting room while they’d stayed to hear whether or not Sarah would pull through. Brook had left the hospital soon afterward. “Please, come in.”
Brook crossed over the threshold in silence. There was nothing she could say to the woman that would change the past. Her daughter had been brutally attacked, physically and emotionally damaged, and would never again be in front of a camera. Her career as a reporter had been cut short, and no amount of surgery would be able to fully restore her face to its former appearance.
Jacob preferred to slice away every bit of his victim’s identity, and he wouldn’t stop until Sarah Evanston was six feet underground.
Brook could only imagine the pain that Jemma had suffered by his actions, as well. She’d observed her daughter’s injuries for only a brief moment, unable to be there for her during the subsequent surgeries and post-op care. Jemma had to say goodbye to her only child, knowing that was the only way to keep her safe.
Brook hadn’t come to only speak with Sarah.
Brook was counting on Jemma’s love for her daughter to convince Sarah to reenter the witness protection program.
“Sarah is having coffee in the four-season room. Straight through and to the left.”
Without another word, Jemma walked away.
Sarah’s mother had chosen to go through the living room and through an archway that most likely led to the kitchen. Brook had noted the aroma of coffee, but there was no hint of breakfast. She found it odd that Jemma would allow her daughter to speak with Brook without supervision. The woman had to know the reason for Brook’s visit.
