Bitterroot Lake

“Then what happened?” Leo asked quietly.

“I told him my parents deserved to know the truth before they died. And he said …” She paused, as if not wanting to repeat Lucas Erickson’s words. “He said I shouldn’t be asking him. I should be asking the moose why it rammed into the car. I should be asking Janine Nielsen why she was such a prick-tease. He laughed, a mean, nasty laugh. And then I left. I ran out.”

“Was anyone else in the office? Did you see or hear anyone?” Leo asked.

“No. My phone rang, just as I got in the car. It was my mother and I always take her calls. With elderly parents …” She didn’t finish the sentence.

“What time?”

She dug in her black croc bag for her phone and started scrolling. Found what she was looking for and held the phone out to Leo.

“I wish you had come to me with this the moment you heard that Lucas Erickson was dead,” he said.

“Vonda Brown Garrett, may I introduce my cousin, Sheriff Leo McCaskill.” To him, Sarah said, “If you put that together with the time Janine arrived …”

“Narrows the time of death. You’re sure you didn’t see anyone?” Leo asked Vonda, who shook her head. “Anyone see you?”

“That I couldn’t say,” Vonda replied. “I was too shocked. If that’s how he treated people …” She let the words trail off, but Sarah knew what she was thinking. She felt the same way.

If that’s how Lucas Erickson treated people, then she wasn’t surprised that he was dead.

And she wasn’t sorry.

30

This time, the lights in her rearview mirror were a good sign.

But if Vonda Brown—Vonda Garrett—hadn’t killed Lucas, then who had? Had the killer seen her? Was she in danger too? As Janine might be.

Sarah parked in the turnout, leaving room for Vonda’s car. The two women picked their way down the narrow shoulder, the balloon sailing above them. Together, they unwound the ratty, wind-torn ribbons and tied the balloon to the post, below the cross. Vonda leaned in and kissed Michael’s picture.

“Rest easy, baby brother,” she said.

Minutes later, on the steps of the lodge, Vonda hesitated. “I’m not sure I should be here. I’ve caused you all great pain, and it’s not my intention to blame anyone.”

“We owe you the truth. It won’t change the past, but you deserve to know.”

“Hey, sis, I think we found the link,” Holly called as the two women walked in. She was sitting at the game table, a notebook and the Sampler box in front of her.

Nic and Janine entered from the kitchen, the doors thwunking behind them.

“And I’ve solved another mystery,” Sarah said, and introduced Vonda.

“It’s you who’s been decorating the cross,” Holly said.

“Michael deserves to be remembered. He died during a difficult time for my family, and I never wanted to come up here until now,” Vonda said. “As time went on, I wanted to put the pain of losing him in the past. My boys were born prematurely a few weeks after his funeral, and my energy was focused on getting them healthy. They’re fine,” she said, smiling. “Almost as tall as Michael was. And older than he ever got to be.”

“How much does she know?” Janine demanded. “What did you tell her?”

“That’s why she’s here,” Sarah said. But when they were seated on the old leather couches and chairs, Vonda held up a hand.

“My turn first. I sent the letters to the three of you, and to Lucas. I never meant to frighten you, and I am so sorry. I—I wasn’t thinking straight.”

“That partial fingerprint on the envelope will probably turn out to be hers,” Sarah said.

“What did you mean?” Nic asked gently. “What did you want?”

“I hoped one of you would reach out and fill in the blanks. Lucas had been his friend, his roommate, and I wanted him to take responsibility.”