Tom arrived at the Spot. He gently set the duffel bag onto the ground. His teeth knocked together in a frozen rhythm. His shivering would not abate. His clothes stiffened as though they were icing over. He spun around in a tight circle and trained the flashlight’s beam onto the dark trees that surrounded him. The trees formed a clearing and defined the borders of the Spot.
Roland stepped out from behind a tree. Tom saw the gun still in his hand.
“Let’s get this over with,” Tom said.
“Yes. Let’s. Are my drugs in the bag?”
“Look for yourself,” said Tom.
Roland came over to the duffel bag. He peered inside. He inspected the contents and seemed pleased with what he found.
For a second, Roland was vulnerable to attack. Tom could have disarmed him. But Jill was still somewhere in the woods. Still in the clutches of that monster. No, he’d wait to see how this was going to play out. Then he’d make his move. Only when Tom was certain would he strike with violence of action.
“You did real good, Tom,” Roland said.
“Where’s my daughter?” Tom’s body was shaking violently.
“She’s here.”
“I want to see her.”
Roland whistled. Dee came out of hiding. He dragged Jill alongside him. She still had her blindfold on. Her mouth was still gagged. Wrists bound. Tom could see that she was shivering, too. But more out of fear than cold.
“Jilly-bean, it’s me, sweetheart. It’s Daddy. You just stay calm, honey. You stay calm and they’re going to let you go.”
Jill shook and struggled to get free. Tom could feel her desperation to get away, her desire to run to the sound of her father’s voice. But Dee held her tight. Her legs kicked at the air as though she were pedaling an invisible bicycle.
“I walk out of here with my daughter,” Tom said. “You’ve got my word that I’ll stay quiet about the drugs.”
Roland looked over at Dee. “Take it off,” he said.
Dee removed Jill’s blindfold but still kept her gagged. He held Jill locked in his massive arm like a vise.
“What are you doing?” Tom said. “Now she knows it was you, Boyd. She knows you kidnapped her.” But Tom had anticipated it would come to this. Roland had had another plan all along.
Roland distanced himself a few paces from Tom. The gun was steady in Roland’s hand. Moonlight fell on Dee’s bloated face. The man had one arm wrapped around Jill, and Tom could see the glint cast off by his massive ring. Dee’s other hand held a gun pointed at Jill’s head.
“Get on your knees, Tom,” Roland said.
“What are you doing, Roland?”
“Get on your knees now, Tom. Or Frankie will shoot your daughter.”
Jill let out a muffled cry. She struggled again to get free. Dee pressed the gun barrel against Jill’s temple. Tom sank to his knees, as though praying to the duffel bag that lay in front of him.
“This is the scene of a double homicide. A murder-suicide, to be exact. You killed Lindsey Wells. You couldn’t let Jill live, because the scars of what you’ve done will damage her forever. No, you decided she’d be better off dead. It’ll be easier for her that way.”
Tom heard Jill’s muffled shriek again.
Roland circled out of Tom’s direct line of sight. Tom kept his eyes focused forward and locked on Jill. He didn’t turn his head to see where Roland had moved. Instead, he listened to Roland’s footsteps. Roland was standing to his right. He assumed Roland was pointing his gun at Tom’s head. It made sense. Murder-suicide. Roland would shoot Tom in the side of his head. Then he’d shoot Jill.
Tom kept his eyes locked forward. He focused only on Jill. He looked into her eyes. Even in the dark he could see they were wide with fear, like two black moons against a pale white sky. Those eyes were filled with tears. She struggled again to get free. But Dee pressed the gun barrel to her head until she stopped fighting.
Jill went limp. Fainted, perhaps. Dee kept her propped up like a doll.
“Sorry it came down to this, Tom. But it’s the cleanest way. You’re a family man. You can understand. I have to do this for my family. I can’t give up on my boy.”
Tom heard the emotion in Roland’s voice. A weakness in his resolve, perhaps.
“Did Mitchell kill Lindsey? You want to pin this on me, is that it?”
“Kids can make stupid mistakes,” Roland said. “You and I both know that.”
“Roland, you don’t have to do this. There’s another way. We can come up with something.”
Silence.
Tom’s heart pounded in his chest. Jill had come back to her senses and was struggling again. But Dee held her fast.
Roland spoke. “There’s no other way, Tom. This cleans it all up. Nobody will investigate anything now. It’ll all fall on you. You’re the guy running the sexting ring. You killed Lindsey to silence a witness. You realized all the lives you ruined. You took decisive action.”
“The angle of your shot won’t be right,” Tom said. “Forensics will pick up on that.”
“Won’t happen. I know where to hit you. But if it isn’t, I’ve got the connections to make questions go away.”
“What about the gun? Where’d I get it? Did you think of that?”
“You stole it. Stole it from me, in fact. When you broke into my house. The police report’s already been filed.”
“Why wouldn’t I use my own gun?”
Roland laughed. “You know, I thought you’d have one, being a SEAL and all. But we looked. When you were at Marvin’s funeral, Frank searched all through your house. He found the knife and put that where the police would find it. But no gun to be found.”
“That’s where you’re wrong, Roland—”
“Good-bye, Tom. I really am sorry it came to this.”
“I do have a gun.” Tom fell sideways. In a single motion, he reached behind his back and pulled a gun from the waistband of his sodden jeans. The gun was remarkably well preserved, even though it had lain hidden beneath the water for fifteen years. For fifteen years, the gun had been sealed inside a waterproof dry bag. Its only companion was a stash of drugs that a young Tom Hawkins couldn’t allow to get wet and ruined.
The gun was a Beretta M9. An army private named Kip Lange had used it during a robbery gone bad. It had been fired only twice. On his way back to the Spot, Tom had checked the gun over for corrosion, to see if it still had a chance of firing. The bullets, four in total, were dry and lodged inside the magazine. Tom believed the gun would fire. But he didn’t have any proof. Just as Rainy believed in his innocence but lacked the proof. Just as Jill believed in her father enough to trust him again. Tom believed the gun would fire.
And so he pulled the trigger as he fell. There was a flash. An explosion and burst of light followed. The recoil from the thrust as the bullet dislodged from the barrel.
There was his proof.
The first bullet slammed into Roland’s shoulder. The second shot hit him in the leg. Roland fell to the ground with a thud.
Frank Dee did exactly what Tom expected of him. He acted to remove the immediate threat. Dee pulled his gun away from Jill and pointed the weapon at Tom. Tom fired two quick shots before Dee got off one.
The first bullet hit Dee in his firing hand. Dee’s gun fell to the ground as a splash of blood sprayed out from the fresh wound like a burst of red fireworks. Tom’s second shot could have been a kill shot. He had the time and skill to take aim and hit the target. But killing was in his past. So the bullet that could have flattened Dee’s skull instead tore through the man’s abdomen. Blood spurted from that hole as well. Dee fell backward to the ground.