“Yeah, Tiger,” he murmured. “It is.”
Epilogue
The door closed behind her with a soft click.
Grace let out an exhale of relief. She did it. She actually managed to slip out of their bedroom without disturbing Rick, pulling her shoes on and tiptoeing toward the front door while he still slept peacefully.
As she learned when they first got together, he was a notoriously light sleeper. With all of the hours he was pulling at work, though, he slept more soundly and deeply these last few weeks. She was glad. He needed the rest.
And she needed to take care of something.
Her car was parked in the driveway. She purposely left it there after her appointment yesterday since she already had this idea brewing by the time she drove back into Hamlet. The garage connected to Rick’s home was old and creaky and she couldn’t risk it giving her away.
Crossing her fingers on one hand, she used the other to turn the key in the ignition. The purr of the engine was a hum in the early evening. Her heart pounding in inexplicable nerves, Grace waited to see if Rick would appear in the doorway, having been woken up by the car. When the door stayed closed, she took a calming breath and backed out onto the street.
It only took ten minutes to drive over to Ophelia. Normally, the trip was close to double that. Grace raced the rare stop sign, hoping she didn’t run into Willie or Natalie or Ethan. They’d tip Rick off first chance they got if they caught her speeding through town.
The only hurdle she was worried about was whether Maria was home—and if she currently had company. As the sheriff, Sly was even busier than the rest of his deputies. He might have Rick and the others pulling double shifts, but she knew that Sly had been working around the clock for close to three months now.
She let out another relieved sigh when she saw Maria’s mint green coupe parked out front. There was no sign of Sly’s cruiser, so she figured it was a safe bet that Maria was free.
It was barely five so she knew that Ophelia’s locks wouldn’t be activated for a couple of hours. When she rang the doorbell and got no answer, she reached for the door. Just like she thought, it was open. Grace let herself in.
Rick finally urged her to get her own radio after what happened with Tommy. She rarely used it, only calling Maria or Rick, but it made him feel better if he knew she carried it. She had tried buzzing Maria before she left Rick’s house, though she wasn’t surprised when Maria didn’t pick up. From the time she spent in Ophelia, she knew Maria never carried hers around with her. Good chance it was in her bedroom and she couldn’t hear it.
It was dark in the foyer. The only light filtered in from the windows and the artificial spotlights that filled the hallway. Maybe… maybe Sly came and picked Maria up in his cruiser. That would explain why the coupe was outside.
“Maria?” she called out, raising her voice. “You home?”
“Is that you, Grace?” She sounded muffled, as if coming from far away.
“Yeah. It’s me.”
“I’m in the kitchen, sweetie.”
Grace crossed the foyer and headed toward the hall. A few minutes later, when she walked into the kitchen, she found Maria bent over the table.
A large rectangle-shaped slab of wood lay in the center. It was stained a deep mahogany color and Maria had already drawn a bouquet of flowers all along the bottom and the sides. Daisies, soft yellow roses, sprigs of lavender, and a mix of wildflowers. It was absolutely gorgeous.
For the first time in a long, long time, the sight of an array of flowers didn’t fill her with dread. There was only hope.
Grace smiled. “What’s this? Are you working on the new welcome sign?”
“Oh, no, sweetie. I already finished that. My Sly even went out this morning and posted it at the crossroads for me.” Her head bowed, dark hair barely missing the paint can as she drew another stroke toward the bottom, Maria added, “I asked if maybe I should make another, a warning sign for outsiders to be careful, and he told me not to bother. And, I guess, I get it. Maybe our gulley protects its people as much as it does the town and I should leave it be.”
Part of Grace was touched that Maria had gone to the trouble of re-doing the welcome sign because of her. Last week, while they were drinking a mug of hot cocoa together, Maria mentioned it was time to make a new sign. Since Grace had decided to stay in town for good, she might as well update the population for Hamlet.
The other part of Grace tried really hard not to cringe at Maria’s offhand mention of Sly, the gulley, and a warning sign. Her stomach tightened. She hadn’t gotten over what happened to Tommy yet. She doubted she ever would.
Sly Collins hadn’t, either. Whenever the sheriff’s other duties spared him—and sometimes when they didn’t—Sly could often be found at the scene where Tommy fell.
At least it was better than the days he spent outside of the house she shared with Rick, studying the patch where Boone lay bleeding. Every time she looked out the front window and saw the sheriff hard at work, the memories came rushing back.
Pop, pop, pop. Three gunshots and the certainty Rick was gone.
Tires squealing.
The blinding tail lights as the Jaguar dove nose-first into the gulley.