Death Notice (36 page)

“I’m not harassing. I just want to know where you were last night.”

“That’s none of your business.”

But it
was
Kat’s business, despite what Gloria Ambrose said. Something terrible was happening in her town, and she had an inkling Lucas had something to do with it. She didn’t regret keeping his shady graveyard activities a secret from his parole officer. Nick had promised Lucas they would keep silent, and that promise is what led them to Art McNeil. But the grave digger was up to something, and she wasn’t going to wait around for the BCI to figure it out.

“Were you at the Jigsaw again? That’s your usual excuse.”

“It’s not an excuse,” Lucas said. “It’s the God’s honest truth.”

“So if I walked over there and asked, I’d be told that you were there?”

“Yup. Just like the last time you thought I was the Grim Reaper.”

Kat decided to give up for the time being. She was exhausted, and going around in circles with Lucas Hatcher wasn’t making her feel any better.

But as she started to make her way out of the cemetery, she saw Lucas bend down to pick up the rake. The sunglasses slid from his nose and fell off. He tried to catch them, but it was too late. With the glasses gone, Kat could clearly see a gigantic bruise around his left eye, still raw and throbbing.

Christ, Henry, look out!

Henry had experienced the dream so many times that he knew exactly how it would unfold. First, there would be a scream, followed by the jackknifed truck appearing like an apparition through the rain. Then the driver, sprinting into the road. The car would skid, both truck and driver getting closer. The driver would bounce over the windshield and then—the inevitable.

Only this time, the dream was different. After Gia’s scream of warning, her voice grew normal. It lowered in volume and worry, becoming conversational as she turned to give him a bittersweet smile.

“Henry,” she said, hands cradling her rounded stomach, “you know I’m not going to survive this.”

On the edge of his vision, he saw the faint outlines of the truck emerge through the rain. Henry ignored it.

“I know,” he said. “I don’t want this to happen.”

The truck was fully visible now, stretched across the entire highway. A blur appeared on the side of the road. The truck driver, running in front of them.

“We can’t stop it,” Gia said. “It’s inevitable.”

The truck driver hit the windshield. As he bounced up the glass and over the car, Henry kept his eyes locked on Gia. She looked back at him with so much love and tenderness that Henry wished they could remain that way, frozen forever.

A tear stuck to Henry’s eyelashes, balancing there until it dropped onto his unblemished cheek. Gia reached out and
brushed it away with her hand. Henry leaned in slightly, relishing the way her soft skin felt against his.

Through the windshield smeared with the truck driver’s blood, Henry saw the truck getting inexorably closer. It wouldn’t be long before impact. Seconds, maybe. The last seconds he would ever spend with his beloved wife.

Another tear fell from Henry’s eyes, dripping onto Gia’s fingers, rolling over her knuckles.

“I’m going to miss you so much.”

“I know you will,” Gia said. “You need to say good-bye, and then you need to move on.”

The truck loomed large in front of them, a solid wall they couldn’t avoid. This was it. This was the end.

Henry grabbed Gia’s hand and kissed her palm. “I love you.”

They were upon the truck now, mere inches away. Gia was about to be snatched from him forever. Somehow he knew he would never again gaze upon her face, not even in his dreams. Because he knew this, Henry pressed Gia’s palm against his lips and held it there.

The car smashed into the truck. Glass rained down upon them as steel twisted around their bodies.

Henry felt Gia’s hand pull away from his face. He reached out, catching two of her fingers. Gripping them tightly, he made sure the feel of her was seared into his brain. That way he would never forget her.

Then, only because he had to, Henry let her go.

When he woke up, Henry knew he would never have the dream again. There had been a finality to it that was both freeing and sad. He wondered if he would see his wife again in other, happier dreams. He certainly hoped so.

Standing and stretching, Henry knew what he needed to do next. He had to follow the instructions Gia had given him in the dream. He had to say good-bye.

He shaved and showered quickly. Once dressed, he made a few phone calls to book train tickets and reserve a hotel room in Pittsburgh. He packed. He typed up his resignation letter and delivered it to the publisher of the
Perry Hollow Gazette.

When all that was taken care of, he walked to Deana’s house. The door was unlocked, so he let himself inside. He heard Deana upstairs in her bedroom, preparing for the birthday dinner that would never happen.

“Is someone there?” she called.

Henry started to climb the stairs. “It’s me.”

He had reached the second floor by the time Deana emerged from her room. Although she was wrapped in a bathrobe, her hair and makeup were perfect.

“You’re early,” she said. “Or am I running late?”

Her face sank when Henry said, “We need to talk.”

Silently, Deana took his hand and led him to the bedroom. Sitting on the edge of her bed, facing the photograph of her shattered family, Henry started to tell her about his own broken life.

“Five years ago, my wife died in a car accident. I was badly hurt. During the time of the crash, she was nine months pregnant. Paramedics couldn’t save her or the baby.”

Henry waited for a response. It came in the form of a gentle caress at his temples. Deana’s silent way of telling him to continue. He did, detailing what happened before, during, and after the crash, leaving nothing out. It was his second confession in as many days.

Once he had finished, Deana leaned on his shoulder and said, “I knew all about that, Henry. My brother told me long ago.”

Surprise didn’t begin to describe Henry’s reaction. Deana had known all this time yet never mentioned it.

“Why didn’t you tell me you knew?”

“I didn’t see the point.” She reached up and stroked his face, her fingers smoothing lightly over the mottled skin at his temples. “We’ve all done bad things in our lives. All trying to escape our pain. That’s why you came to Perry Hollow, isn’t it?”

“Yes. I thought I could escape everything. Now I know I can’t.”

Deana’s caresses stopped. Her hand fell away.

“You’re leaving, aren’t you?”

“I’m sorry,” Henry said, nodding slowly. “I have to.”

“Will you come back?”

“Hopefully someday. But for now, I need to go back to Pittsburgh.”

And once there, he needed to visit Gia’s grave for the very first time. It would be hard, he knew. But it was necessary.

“If it’s what you need to do,” Deana said, “then I support your decision. Just try not to forget about me.”

“I won’t. I couldn’t.”

Both of them descended into silence, choosing instead to let their hands do the talking. Deana lightly touched Henry’s chest, her fingers running down his stomach. Henry responded in turn, delicately palming her breasts. With rising desire, he rolled on top of her.

“When are you leaving?” she asked.

“Tonight.”

“If this is good-bye,” she said, “let’s make it memorable.”

They made love for the last time in her dusk-shrouded bedroom. When it was over, Henry got dressed, kissed her quickly, and departed. As he descended the stairs, he heard Deana rise from the bed. Her footfalls crossed the room. He heard a click as she picked up the phone.

On his way out the door, he heard her speak.

“Henry’s leaving town. I hope you’re happy.”

An hour before the parade’s start, Kat paid another visit to the Jigsaw. The place was packed—more crowded than she had ever seen it. None of the regulars were there. Instead, the bar was filled with strangers in costumes, ordering drinks with themed names like the Hallowtini and the Mummy Mohito. It seemed that not even the Jigsaw was immune from the invasion.

Chuck Budman surveyed the crowd from behind the bar. He looked a little chagrined when he spotted Kat, like a kid caught with his hand in the cookie jar.

“Where’s your normal crowd?”

“Staying far away from this place,” Chuck said. “The upside is that these suckers are making me twice as much money as my regulars.”

It was his excuse for turning his normally seedy bar into a happening nightspot, even if it was just for one night. Kat couldn’t blame him. Every business on Main Street was doing the same thing.

“Do you think Lucas Hatcher will be in tonight?” she asked.

“Maybe. But I’m not expecting him to. Not after last night.”

“What happened last night? Was he here?”

“Unfortunately,” Chuck said with a huff. “He started a fight with a tourist. Got himself punched right in the face. I bet he has one hell of a shiner.”

Kat knew that he did and that he was now wearing sunglasses to cover it up.

“What time did it happen?”

“Early,” Chuck said. “Lucas didn’t even have any liquor in him at that point. I guess it was about five thirty.”

That was all Kat needed to know. She thanked Chuck and
made her way out of the bar and into Main Street, which was just as crowded. Again, she saw no familiar faces. Everyone strolling Main with their caramel apples and hot cider was an outsider.

Or maybe that was because of the costumes. Everyone was wearing one, kids and adults alike. Kat saw people dressed as witches and devils, pirates and surgeons. The whole crowd was a jumble of pointed black hats and plastic pitchforks. There were about a dozen pirates, all of them sporting eye patches and fake swords. The surgeons were numerous, too, their bodies swimming in sea-blue scrubs, their faces half covered by masks.

Stuck in the crowd, Kat thought about Lucas Hatcher. Once again, he had told her the truth. He was at the Jigsaw the previous night. He even had a black eye to prove it. So much for her theory that the wound was the result of a crashed van, which he had been driving.

In the distance, the sound of a marching band rose in the crisp air. It was the Perry Hollow High School band, warming up for the start of the parade. The crowd on Main Street cheered, enlivened by the rapid beat of the band’s percussionists. The devils raised their pitchforks. The pirates lifted their swords. The witches and surgeons clapped.

Kat found herself surrounded by more arriving revelers. They stood behind her and on both sides, boxing her in. Trapped between a witch and a pirate, something occurred to Kat.

The bar fight was at five thirty. Amber was dragged from her house at quarter after six. That left an entire forty-five minutes in which Lucas was unaccounted for.

After saying good-bye to Deana, Henry returned to the
Gazette
newsroom one last time to collect the few personal belongings he had there. Sneaking up the back stairs to the third floor, he heard the high school marching band tuning up in the parking lot next door. The parade would be starting soon. When it did, Henry could sneak out unseen by anyone. Considering his nickname, it was an appropriate way to leave.