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“And was Chelsey in Jagger’s apartment the whole time?”

“Right. That’s also where the rest of the ransom money was, by the way. After they steered us to Fredenberg Lake, Jagger hid Chelsey in the woods and waited for us to find her. Once we did, Chelsey could claim that the kidnapper — we’d assume it was Hink — didn’t have the balls to kill her and simply left her to die in the woods. Hence her miraculous escape.”

“Nice,” Stride said. “Chelsey’s alive, Hink’s dead, and a few hours later, so is Gavin.”

“Yeah. And the two of them are three million dollars richer. You have to admire their dedication, by the way. Chelsey kept her own urine and feces for several days so she could soil her clothes. She starved and dehydrated herself too, just to make it look legit. Yuck.”

Stride shook his head. “We’ve dealt with some evil people over the years, but these two may take the prize.”

“Delaney called Jagger the devil,” she replied. “I’m not so sure she’s wrong.”

Maggie finished her Big Mac, slurped up the rest of the Coke, and stuffed the wrappers into the bag. “I’m curious about one thing, though,” she went on.

“What’s that?”

“At the end of the day, do you think Gavin figured it out? Is that why he went for the gun?”

“Oh, I have to think it finally dawned on him,” Stride replied. “He was being framed, and there was only one other person beside himself who knew where he hid that gun in the house — and knew all his passwords, too. That was Chelsey. So yeah, I think that last fight was a fight to the death.”

Maggie stood up from the chair, and Stride stayed by the window. They stared at each other. It was just like the old days.

“I’m heading out,” she said. Then she added, “I left you the Teeling.”

“Thanks.”

“Pour a shot. Celebrate. No matter what the doctor says, you need to live sometimes, too.”

“You’re right.”

Maggie gave him a wink, and she left him in the office. His office. His past, his present, his future. He inhaled deeply, feeling the tug in his chest, the little pain that was always there, always reminding him that life was short.

Then Stride sat down in his chair and got to work.

Serena was alone in the cottage that night. Jonny was late coming home, but she didn’t mind. She knew, when he came through the door, that he’d be smiling. He’d have his life back. And his wife back, too. She felt as if they’d finally closed the door on fourteen months of recovery. They’d walked through hell together and come out clean on the other side.

For him, it was his job.

For her, it was the number she would whisper to herself after midnight. One.

She found herself walking around the house, looking at ordinary objects in a new way. The candlesticks on the table. The old map of Duluth on the wall. The fading wooden sign above the fireplace with a single word: Believe. They were things she’d seen a million times, but they gave her a strange new comfort now. A sense of belonging.

When she went into the spare bedroom, she began unpacking her clothes from the dresser and moving them back into the closet in the master bedroom with Jonny’s. She wanted no distance between them anymore. The closet space was cramped, but she didn’t care. If they were getting up in the middle of the night now, they’d get up together.

At last, when her restlessness became calm, she sat down in the armchair by the fireplace. She listened to the silence of the cottage and felt its ghosts. In her hands, she turned over the small padded envelope that had been delivered in the mail that day. The return address was from the sheriff ’s office in Maricopa County, Arizona. She’d been putting off the moment of opening it. Whatever was inside was a part of Samantha’s life. Her legacy. Serena didn’t really know if there was anything she wanted from her mother.

But she undid the flap and reached inside. The first thing she removed was a handwritten note.

Ms. Stride,

Your mother did not have much in the way of possessions when she died. I’m afraid the few clothes and personal items she did have were in a state of contamination that would make it impossible to ship to you. However, I thought you would like to have this one piece of jewelry. She wasn’t wearing it around her neck when we found her. She had it clasped in her hand.

With condolences,

Deputy Lawrence Moray

Serena closed her eyes, then reached inside the envelope again. She came away with a small gold locket and chain. It wasn’t expensive, and the etched design — a scripted letter S — had mostly faded, as if it had been rubbed away over time. S for Samantha. S for Serena. She lifted the locket up in the dim light and let it dangle at the end of the chain like a talisman. When she could hold back no longer, she undid the clasp and separated the locket to see the old photograph inside.

It had faded, too, like the letter S on the outside. Its colors had worn away. But she recognized the little girl in the picture, the girl with the jet-black hair and the emerald eyes. The girl smiling at the camera, smiling at her mother. Serena had no recollection of when the picture had been taken. It was just one photograph. One lost memory. How old was she then? Eight? Nine?

She had it clasped in her hand.

Serena closed the locket gently. Then she slung the chain around her neck and felt the cool metal close to her warm skin.

“What’s that?”

She looked up in surprise. Jonny was standing over her. She hadn’t even heard him come in through the back door.

“It’s my past,” she told him. “I was thinking it’s okay for me to keep it a little closer.”

Stride knelt beside the chair. There was something different, something warm and happy, in his eyes. He kissed her, and she expected him to tell her about his day, about being back, about life starting over again after an extended pause. Instead, he whispered, “I have a surprise for you.”

“What is it?”

He gave a shout toward the cottage’s front door, and with a shudder, the door burst inward. Serena saw Cat there, biting her lip and unable to suppress a huge grin. Behind her was Delaney, face flushed with excitement. The two girls looked like conspirators in a secret plot. Like sisters.

Cat looked at Stride and said, “Ready?”

He nodded. “Ready.”

Cat held the door open. Delaney disappeared onto the porch and was gone for a moment. And then there was a bark.

A dog’s bark.

Serena’s hands flew to her face. In an instant, she began to cry. With a blur of black-and-white fur, Elton galloped from the porch into the house. The Border collie froze on the carpet, looking left, looking right, looking everywhere, until he spotted Serena in the chair by the fireplace. Unleashing another loud bark of excitement, the dog bolted toward her at full speed. Serena slid off the chair onto her knees to welcome him, and Elton landed against her so hard that she toppled backward. Then the dog was on top of her, licking away the flood of tears.

When she was finally able to sit up, she hugged Elton against her chest and said in a broken voice to Jonny, “How? How did you do it?”

He shook his head. “It wasn’t me. Elton did it.”

“What?”

“Dale Sacks called me. He said ever since they brought the dog back, he’s been peeing in every room. And particularly in Dale’s bed. They finally decided that Elton was making it very clear that he wanted alternate arrangements. So here he is.”