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He was alarmed and hurt at the lie, whatever it might be. Yet he wasn’t very surprised. “Go on.”
“Keith hit her, broke her jaw.”
“What?”
“Wired shut for three weeks.”
“God, it was that serious?”
“He was a big man… Don’t feel too bad she kept it from you, Graham. She was embarrassed, ashamed. She didn’t tell hardly anybody.”
“She said he was moody. I didn’t know he hurt her.”
“Moody? True. But mostly it was his temper problem. Like some people drink and some people gamble. He’d lose control. It was scary. I saw it happen a few times.”
“Rage-aholic. What happened?”
“The night he hit her? I’m sure it wasn’t anything big that set him off. It never was. That was the scariest. It could be the power went out before a game, the store was out of his brand of beer, Bry
“I never knew.”
“So domestic problems-they mean a lot to her.”
“She does run those a lot,” Graham agreed. “I always thought it was Tom Dahl. You know, wanting a woman there.”
“No. She’d volunteer.”
“What did she do? After Keith hit her?”
“She didn’t have him arrested if that’s what you mean. I think she was worried about Joey.”
“He ever do it again?”
“No. Not that she ever told me.”
Hitting someone you were married to. He couldn’t imagine it. Hell, hitting anyone, unless it was self-defense, was almost impossible to picture.
Graham was matching this information against other incidents in their past, against his wife’s words, her behavior. Dozens of times she’d touch her jaw in the morning. Even her waking, sweaty and groaning, from dreams. Her moodiness, her defensiveness.
Her control…
He pictured her hand, coasting along the uneven line of her jaw as they sat at the di
Still, sitting back, he said, “She didn’t know what was going on at Lake Mondac until she got there. Domestic may’ve been why she stayed tonight. It’s not why she volunteered to go in the first place. That’s what I want to know.”
“I think the answers’re pretty much the same, Graham.” The needle clicks resumed as A
THEY PAUSED TO take a compass reading, as they’d been doing every quarter mile or so.
The routine was that Bry
Michelle asked, “How did you know how to make that?” Nodding at the compass as Bry
“A course I took through the State Police. But I do have a son.” She tried to imagine skateboarding fiend Joey sitting still long enough for a science fair project. The idea was amusing.
“How old is he?” Michelle was suddenly animated.
“Twelve.”
“I love children,” she said. Then she smiled. “What’s his name?”
“Joseph.”
“Biblical.”
“I guess so. We named him after his father’s uncle.”
“Is he a good boy?”
“He sure is.” Hesitated. “Though he gets into things sometimes.” She told Michelle about the skateboarding incident today, some of his scrapes at school. The woman listened with interest-and sympathy. Bry
Michelle glanced at her. “Not yet. We lead pretty busy lifestyles.”
“And you’re an actress, you were saying?”
A shy smile. “Just little things now. TV commercials, community theater. But I’m going to get into Second City. The improv comedy troupe. I’ve had a couple of callbacks. And I’m auditioning for the touring company of Wicked.”
Bry
They were walking uphill now and, breathless, fell silent as they slogged their way over another quarter mile.
She’d thought they’d have come across the Joliet Trail by now. It couldn’t be that far away. But with all this dense brush, she had no realistic sense of how fast they were traveling. Like treading through water; a lot of effort didn’t lead to a long distance covered.
After fifteen minutes they paused in a clearing surrounded by briars to take another compass reading. The lighter flared and Bry
According to the routine they’d fallen into, they now sat for a moment or two, eyes squeezed shut to help them adjust to the dark.
A snap sounded behind them.
Loud.
Michelle gasped.
Both women tensed, rising to a crouch from their knees. Bry
Another snap and a rustle of footsteps.
Bry
Was it the killers?
“What? Do you-?”
“Shhh.”
Something was moving, circling them. Then stopped. Moved again.
Snap…
Then it vanished.
A moment later, from their right, came another snap, a shuffle of leaves. They spun suddenly in that direction. Bry
It wasn’t the men. In fact it wasn’t a human. Bry
Bry
Michelle gasped and gripped Bry
Was it a mountain lion? The last one in Wisconsin had reportedly been shot a hundred years ago. But every year there were supposed sightings. You’d see coyotes from time to time. They were timid, but rabid ones, their minds melting, had strolled right into tents and attacked campers. Lynx weren’t unheard of either.
But this seemed too big for that. She decided it was a gray wolf, which were being reintroduced into the state. She didn’t know if they’d attack humans but the eerie, probing face-almost human-was unsettling.
Had Michelle and Bry
A flash of anger burned within her. They didn’t need another enemy tonight. She gripped the spear firmly and stood up. She strode forward, between Michelle and the creature.
“What’re you doing? Don’t leave me.”
Bry
The animal’s head cocked and its eyes caught light from the lopped-off moon.
Bry
Still staring their way, the animal backed up then turned and receded into the night. Bry
“It’s okay.”
But it wasn’t the animal she was referring to. “Are you all right?” she asked uncertainly.
“Me?” the deputy asked. “Sure. Why?”
“You were…you were making this noise. I thought you couldn’t breathe or something.”
“Noise?”
“Like, growling. It was scary.”
“Growling?” Bry
Queen of the Jungle…
She gave an awkward laugh and they continued on. Their route led them into a ravine, the rocks and trees along the side ensnared with vines, and the floor covered with patches of poison ivy and vinca. Boggy pools too, surrounded by mushrooms and fungus. They pushed through it all, exhausted, and struggled up the other side, using saplings and sandstone outcroppings for hand-and footholds.