The Lost Women of Lost Lake (32 page)

BOOK: The Lost Women of Lost Lake
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“This affects me, too!” screamed Jill, whirling around.

“You think I don't know that? You think I made this decision lightly, without considering all the ramifications? Listen to me. No, don't look away. I want your eyes right here.” She pointed to her face. “I can't run. I refuse to go to prison. What other option do I have?”

“I don't know, but there have to be
some
.”

“What do you think I've been doing all week? Sitting in that goddamned living room with my foot up? All I've done is think. I'm sick of it. You would worry about me constantly if I went to prison. You'd never have another peaceful moment. Is that what you want?”

“I want you
alive
.”

“And miserable? Dealing with daily abuse? Humiliation? Worrying about you worrying about me? That's not living. Don't you get it? I made the only decision I could. Don't be angry. And even if you are, I can't change it.”

Jill dug her cell phone out of her purse.

“It's too late for that.”

“It's not.”

“The drug is already in my system. I didn't call you until there was no turning back.”

“I don't believe you!”

“It's true. I swear on my love for you.”

“No!”

“Honey, please. If I could go back in time and change what I did, I would.” She swayed, almost fell.

Jill rushed to her.

“Help me back to the bed.”

Once she was lying down, she felt a little better. “I know this is hard, but will you stay with me? Hold me? Please,” she begged. “Please.”

Still crying, Jill drew her into her arms.

“Do you forgive me?”

She didn't answer.

They pulled the covers up and stayed like that, locked in each other's arms.

“I don't have long,” said Tessa. She was losing track, slipping in and out. “I love you. You've been the best part of my life.”

“I love you, too,” whispered Jill, tenderly kissing her forehead.

“Tell Jonah … sorry I couldn't say good-bye. I wrote a note. Put it on his pillow. Make sure—” She swallowed, couldn't seem to finish the sentence.

“I don't know what I'll do without you,” whispered Jill, her voice thick with tears.

“I'll … be with you, I promise. I won't leave you alone.”

“I love you so much.”

“We'll see each other again, I know it.”

Jill squeezed her hand.

Tessa was floating now, moving further and further away. She tried to speak, but her words came out garbled.

“Say that again?” said Jill, her mouth next to Tessa's ear. “Please, sweetheart. I need to know what you're thinking.”

Gathering all her all her strength, Tessa struggled to form what she'd longed to say for so many years, to finally reclaim what was lost.

“My name,” she whispered, not sure if she was speaking the words or only thinking them, “… is Sabra.”

Epilogue

With her bare feet dangling in the water, Jane relaxed on the wood dock outside her parents' cabin on Blackberry Lake, Mouse lying beside her, and watched a sailboat with a billowing white sail skim across the choppy water. It was a cloudless evening. She'd arrived back at the lodge around four and was met by a ridiculously joyful dog and a smiling Nolan. Cordelia planned to stay up north with Jill for the next week. After some hemming and hawing, she agreed to allow Jane to borrow her car so she could drive back.

The word had come down from Jill that there would be no funeral. Tessa had asked to have her body cremated and the ashes scattered in the woods behind the cottage. Jane would drive back at the end of the week for a private ceremony, just close friends and a few relatives. From what Jane had witnessed this morning before she left, Jonah had taken Tessa's death particularly hard. With Kenny's confession, the mystery of the fire and the two murders had been put to rest. Lamentably, there were still loose ends, questions that nobody would ever be able to answer. Human actions and motivations were messy, and that, of course, ate at Jane. More fodder, she supposed, for her late-night maunderings.

Kelli had come to Thunderhook to see Jane off. She invited her to come back for dinner the next time she was in town. Jane accepted the invitation gladly.

Leaving Jill was the hardest part. They'd held each other for a long time. Few words were spoken because neither of them knew what to say.

Hearing the wood deck creak behind her, Jane called, “Time for our talk?”

“Think so,” said Nolan, sitting down on the other side of Mouse. He was wearing shorts and a cotton shirt. When he stuck his bare feet into the water beside hers, he sighed. “This is the life.”

“You can drive up anytime you want.”

“Nice to have friends with cabins. You've been lost in thought out here. Didn't want to bother you.”

“I've been thinking about Emily Jensen.”

“Jonah and Kenny's girlfriend?”

“I'm pretty sure she never loved Kenny. But I do think she might have been at the theater the night he shot Feigenbaumer.”

“No way to prove it, though.”

“Nope.”

“And?”

“You think there's an and?”

“Pretty sure there is.”

She laughed. “It's kind of a dark thought.”

“Murder leads directly to those.”

Studying the far shore, she said, “It was the way Emily reacted yesterday afternoon when I saw the O-ring missing from Kenny's boot. It took me a while to figure it out. I believe it was guilt. I think she was there, too.”

“And? You think she fired the gun? That Kenny may have been involved in a fight with the guy, but that Emily pulled the trigger.”

“You're good.”

“Nobody will ever know for sure.”

“What a thing to have to live with.”

“Kinda like your friend Tessa.”

“Yeah. Kinda like.” She considered it a moment more, then stretched her arms over her head. “I suppose you want an answer to your question.”

He nodded. “Yes, ma'am, I do.”

“It's hard, you know? I've helped a lot of friends find the truth behind crimes that affected them. When you know the people involved, when you like—or even love—some of them, it just makes it tougher.”

“Well,” he said, running his hand down Mouse's back. “It's never easy. Even if you don't know the people, you end up caring. It's the way of the world. Human solidarity. We don't want bad things to happen to people we like, even if they're guilty, which they often are.”

She kicked her feet through the water.

“Quit stalling. A simple yes or no will do. No explanations needed.”

“Here's the deal, as I see it. The reason you can take only the cases that interest you is because you have your police pension. If I sign on with you, I want the same option, which means I need the money that comes from my restaurants. Their continued success is vital to me. Being a restaurateur may not fill every up every nook and cranny of my soul, but it's a big part of who I am.”

“Understood.”

“This is what I'm offering. I'll do one case with you a month, as long as it doesn't take every hour of every day.”

“It's not entirely what I'd hoped for, but we could make it work.”

“I get to pick the case.”

“I'll have to think about that one. Can we table it for the moment—unless it's a deal breaker.”

“It's not.”

“Then? Do we have a deal?”

They shook hands, her pale hand encompassed by his powerful brown one.

“This calls for a celebration,” he said, pulling a line of fish out of the water.

“Since you caught them, it's only fair that I clean them and make us dinner.”

“Sounds like the beginning of a mutually beneficial partnership to me,” he said, handing her the line and grinning.

ALSO BY ELLEN HART

The Cruel Ever After

The Mirror and the Mask

Sweet Poison

The Mortal Groove

Night Vision

The Iron Girl

An Intimate Ghost

Immaculate Midnight

No Reservations Required

Death on a Silver Platter

The Merchant of Venus

Slice and Dice

Hunting the Witch

Wicked Games

Murder in the Air

Robber's Wine

The Oldest Sin

Faint Praise

A Small Sacrifice

For Every Evil

This Little Piggy Went to Murder

A Killing Cure

Stage Fright

Vital Lies

Hallowed Murder

 

ELLEN HART, “a top novelist in the cultishly popular gay mystery genre” (
Entertainment Weekly
), is also a Lambda and Minnesota Book Award winner. The author of eighteen previous mysteries featuring Jane Lawless, she lives in Minneapolis, Minnesota. Visit her Web site at
www.EllenHart.com
.

This is a work of fiction. All of the characters, organizations, and events portrayed in this novel are either products of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously.

THE LOST WOMEN OF LOST LAKE.
Copyright © 2011 by Ellen Hart. All rights reserved. For information, address St. Martin's Press, 175 Fifth Avenue, New York, N.Y. 10010.

www.minotaurbooks.com

www.stmartins.com

Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data

      Hart, Ellen.

The lost women of lost lake / Ellen Hart.—1st ed.

    p. cm.

e-ISBN 9781429982894

1.  Lawless, Jane (Fictitious character)—Fiction.   2.  Women detectives—Minnesota—Minneapolis—Fiction.   3.  Restaurateurs—Fiction.   4.  Minneapolis (Minn.)—Fiction.   I.  Title.

           PS3558.A6775L67 2011

           813'.54—dc22

2011020348

First Edition: October 2011

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