Authors: Amy Gutman
staggered into her car. The dependable motor of the Subaru 7
quickly sprang to life. Rigid, he stood there watching as the blue 8
car pulled away. The roar of the motor blended with the drum-9
beat in his brain. He knew what it meant, tried to stop it, tried to 10
think it through. But the drumbeat just grew louder. There was 11
nothing he could do.
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A tiny voice in the back of his head was telling him he’d 13
screwed up. He shouldn’t have come to the island. He shouldn’t 14
have stayed this long. It was getting harder and harder to keep 15
himself under control. At night, when he slept, he could hear the 16
screams, almost smell the blood. He saw their faces, crimson-17
lipped with bright, desperate eyes.
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Things were getting all mixed up, the past confused with the 19
present. Sometimes he’d forget why he was here, forget Steven 20
Gage was dead. When he’d seen
her
coming down the trail, he’d 21
wondered if he’d gone crazy. But he wasn’t seeing things after all.
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She was real. Here.
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He wondered if she had any idea how close she’d come to dy-24
ing. It had taken an incredible effort to keep his hands off her.
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Even though she wasn’t his type, he’d almost given in. But once 26
she let loose about the phone, he’d managed to pull back. The 27
bitch was probably lying, but he didn’t know for sure. And he 28
wasn’t so far gone yet that he planned to take the risk.
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Still, hard as he tried, he couldn’t get her off his mind. He 30
looked at a beam high overhead and imagined her dangling 31
there. Mouth gagged, eyes bulging, terrified of what came next.
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The drumbeat in his head was faster now, pulsing through his 33
body. Quickly, he unzipped his pants and jammed a hand inside.
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When he was finished, he leaned against the wall, waiting for S 35
his head to clear. The relief was only partial, though, and he R 36
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needed something more. He couldn’t get over the feeling that 2
he’d let a chance go by. Of course, that’s what he’d learned to do.
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Gage had taught him that. Strategy. Discipline. Self-control.
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He’d learned these lessons well. He’d learned to assess opportuni-5
ties. He’d learned to hide the bodies.
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But the pounding in his head wouldn’t stop. The rules were 7
falling away. Ever since Diane Massey, things hadn’t been the 8
same.
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As the car disappeared down the tree-lined road, a plan was 10
taking shape. Again, he repeated the letter and numbers until he 11
knew them cold.
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23LG00.
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Her Massachusetts license plate.
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Thursday, May 4
Th e dining room at Rebecca’s was bathed in a peachy glow.
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Self-conscious on crutches, Callie followed the hostess back.
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When the young woman stopped at a table for two, Callie hesi-3
tated. She’d be sitting with her back to the door, and the prospect 4
made her anxious.
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“I . . . could we have one of the banquettes? What about over 6
there?”
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The hostess smiled, amenable. She didn’t seem to care. Her 8
heavy topknot gave her head the look of a nodding flower.
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Rick held her crutches, as Callie slid onto the cushioned 10
bench. She’d told Rick that she’d twisted her ankle stepping 11
out of her car. The hostess offered to take the crutches. Callie 12
said no.
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“I’ll just put them against the wall. They’ll be out of the way.”
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For the first time, the hostess seemed slightly put out, but she 15
didn’t say anything. Instead, after Rick had taken his seat, she 16
said, “Enjoy your meal.”
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As she folded open the menu, Callie glanced toward the en-18
trance. She hadn’t wanted to come out tonight, but for once, 19
Rick had insisted. They needed to talk, he’d said to her. The 20
words seemed ominous. A week had passed since the dinner 21
party, and they’d barely spoken since. Yesterday, Rick had even 22
cancelled pizza night.
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“You know what you want?” Rick’s voice was polite but coolly 24
impersonal. They might have been a couple on a bad first date, 25
the kind you just wanted to end.
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“The duck, I think,” said Callie.
R 27
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Across the table in his navy blazer, Rick was a handsome 2
stranger. He seemed as remote and alien as a model in a maga-3
zine. Callie hadn’t bothered to get dressed up, just couldn’t make 4
the effort. As a last-minute concession, she’d put on dangly lapis 5
lazuli earrings.
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A waitress came by to take their orders, and then they were 7
alone again.
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“So I —”
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“I was —”
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Both of them spoke at once then stopped, elaborately courte-11
ous. Out of the corner of her eye, Callie watched a couple enter 12
the restaurant. As the man took the woman’s coat, he said some-13
thing and she laughed.
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Rick began again. “Callie, we need to talk.”
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“Yes,” she said. “I know.”
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This was the moment she’d been dreading, and yet she felt 17
oddly detached. As if this wasn’t happening to her. As if she were 18
someone else. There was something restful, almost comforting, 19
about this state of mind. She didn’t have to fight anymore. She 20
could just let things go. She was so tired of trying to manage her 21
life, of trying to control things. It reminded her of that AA 22
phrase, she could just
turn it over.
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Calmly, she took a roll from the basket and started to butter it.
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When she’d finished, she took a bite. It was sourdough, very 25
good.
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She knew that Rick was watching her, sensed his rising annoy-27
ance. But, again, it had nothing to do with her. All she could do 28
was wait.
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Rick leaned forward, hands clasped, elbows on the table. “I 30
want you to tell me what’s going on. Something is happening 31
with you. I want to know what it is. The way things have been 32
with us — it can’t go on. I feel like you don’t trust me. I haven’t 33
asked any questions. I haven’t wanted to press you. I’ve kept hop-34
ing that you’d — we’d — get to the point where you’d want to let 35 S
me in. Where you’d want to tell me your secrets. Want to tell me 36 R
about
this.
”
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Before she knew what was happening, he grabbed hold of her 1
arm. He flipped it over, pushed up the sleeve, and touched the 2
tracing of scars.
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And then it was like she’d gone away. Her mind was set adrift.
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Instead of listening to Rick, she was thinking of Melanie. She 5
needed to call the hospital, to find out her condition. She won-6
dered if they’d tell her how Melanie was if she called and asked.
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She should have protected Melanie. She should have protected 8
the others. Once again, she’d second-guessed herself. She hadn’t 9
trusted her instincts.
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“Callie? Are you listening to me?” Rick’s voice jarred her back 11
to the present.
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“I’m sorry,” she said. “I sort of spaced out.”
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“Have you heard a thing I’ve been saying?”
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“I — I heard the first part.”
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He looked at her, jaw set.
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The waitress arrived with their meals.
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The crisp, brown duck smelled delicious, but Callie wasn’t 18
hungry. Unwilling to meet Rick’s eyes, she picked up her fork and 19
knife. She cut off a tiny sliver of duck and moved it around on her 20
plate. It was then that she noticed the single rose in the flower 21
display on their table. The rose was the palest yellow, not red.
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Still, her body clenched.
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“I want to get a gun,” she said abruptly.
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Rick looked at her, dumbfounded. “Is there any particular
rea-25
son
?” he asked.
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She didn’t like his tone.
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“I’m a citizen,” she said stiffly. “I have a right to protect my-28
self.”
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“Callie, this is Merritt. Protect yourself from
what
?”
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Suddenly, she felt angry. She shouldn’t have to explain. The 31
gun was her decision. It had nothing to do with Rick.
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“You know,” she said, squarely meeting his eyes. “There are 33
things you don’t know about me. Some of them are . . . impor-34
tant.”
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He leaned closer, across the table. “What the hell is going on?”
R 36
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She had a sense that if he could have, he’d have reached across 2
the table to shake her. Then something in him seemed to col-3
lapse, and he sank back into his chair. When he looked back up, 4
he seemed defeated, and she felt a pang of guilt. Suddenly, she 5
thought of Rick’s father, his ongoing heart problems. How long 6
had it been since she’d even asked Rick how his father was doing?
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“I’m sorry,” she said softly. “I’m sorry for everything.”
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Rick just looked at her, shook his head. His face was expres-9
sionless.
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“Something’s got to change,” he said. “We can’t go on this 11
way.”
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Saturday, May 6
He shouldn’t be here, he shouldn’t.
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And yet, here he was.
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Lester Crain drove slowly past the house on Abingdon Circle.
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Right away, he knew he’d found the place. Her car was parked 4
out front. The blue Subaru with the license plate 23LG00. Then 5
the front door was opening. He pulled to the side of the road. He 6
watched as she stepped down off the porch with two men and an-7
other woman.
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The four of them walked to the curb where a battered Jetta was 9
parked. They opened the doors and climbed inside, and then 10
they were off.
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Without taking time to think, he fell in behind them.
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The drumbeat was growing louder now.
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He knew what he had to do.
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h
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“What’s a grange anyway?” asked Callie.
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They were zipping up I-91 in Martha’s Volkswagen Jetta, Tod 18
and Martha in the front seat, Callie and Rick in the back, head-19
ing for the weekly contra dance at the Guiding Star Grange in 20
Greenfield.
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“They were started by farmers after the Civil War,” said Martha.
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“Community organizations to promote the well-being of farm fam-23
ilies. They fought the railroad monopolies but also did a lot of social 24
activities. Square dances, suppers, sing-alongs, that sort of thing.”
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As it turned out, Callie was just as happy to be in a group S 26
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tonight. There was no denying the tension that now suffused her 2
dealings with Rick. They hadn’t talked since Thursday night, 3
when he’d left her abruptly at the front door. She’d even thought 4
that he might cancel tonight, say he just didn’t want to see her.
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But, perhaps in deference to his friendship with Tod, he hadn’t 6
opted out.
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“Actually,” said Martha, “this particular grange almost closed 8
in the early nineties. There was a lawsuit over handicap access 9
and not enough members left to pay for renovations. We — I 10
mean the dancers — we’d been renting the hall, and when we 11
found out what was happening, we asked the farmers how we 12
could help. The solution we figured out was for the dancers to 13