Criminal

with.
    “Madam.” He put the plate in front of her.
    She smelled it then—oil and cordite. On his hands. On the table.
    “Thanks.” Sara stood from the chair. She washed her hands at the sink. The smell was stronger now that she was awake and thinking. Will had cleaned up after himself, but not well enough. She wiped her hands with a paper towel. When she opened the cabinet for the trash, she saw the dirty cleaning patches.
    Sara closed the cabinet door. She’d grown up around guns. She knew the smell of cleaning oil. She knew Will kept a backup weapon in his safe. She knew the look of a man who’d made up his mind.
    She turned around.
    Will was sitting at the table, fork in his hand. His plate was dripping with syrup. He talked around a mouthful of pancakes. “I got your gym bag out of the car.” He used the fork to point to the bag on the floor. “Sorry about tearing your dress.”
    She leaned against the sink. “You’re working at the airport today?”
    He nodded. “Mind if I borrow your car? Mine’s acting up.”
    “Sure.” They would be looking for Will’s car around the hotel. Sara’s BMW was practically nondescript in that part of town.
    “Thanks.” He shoved another forkful of pancakes into his mouth.
    She said, “Let’s call in sick today.”
    His chewing slowed. He met her gaze.
    “I want us to go away together,” she said. “My cousin has a house on the Gulf we can use. Let’s just get out of here. Leave town.”
    He swallowed. “That sounds nice.”
    “We can take the dogs and run on the beach every morning.” She wrapped her arms around her waist. “And then we can go back to bed. And then we can eat lunch. And then we can go back to bed.”
    He gave her a forced grin. “That sounds really nice.”
    “Then let’s do it. Right now.”
    “Okay,” he agreed. “I’ll drop you off at your place, then go run some errands.”
    Sara stopped pretending. “I’m not going to let you do it.”
    Will sat back in his chair. The nervous energy was gone. She watched it slowly leave his body. Now there was only the grief and sorrow that had broken her heart the day before.
    “Will—”
    He cleared his throat. The sound turned into a cough. His throat worked as he fought back tears. “She was just a student.”
    Sara bit her lip.
    “She was walking to class one night, and he saw her, and he took her, and that was it. Her life was over.” He put down his fork. “You know what was done to her. You saw the girl yesterday. He did the same thing to both of them.”
    Will’s cell rang. He grabbed the phone out of his pocket. “Did you arrest him?” The devastation on his face told Sara the answer. “Where?” He listened a few seconds longer, then hung up. “Faith’s waiting in the driveway.”
    “What happened?” Even as she said the words, Sara knew they were pointless. Another body had been found. Another life destroyed. Will’s father had killed again.
    Will stood. He grabbed his jacket off the back of the chair. He wouldn’t look at her. She could practically hear his thoughts: He should’ve gone through with it. He should’ve taken his gun and gone to the hotel the minute he heard that his father was free.
    He said, “Amanda wants you to come, too.”
    Sara didn’t want to be a burden. Amanda had dragged her into this once before. “Do you want me there?”
    “Amanda does.”
    “I don’t care about Amanda. I only want to do what’s best for you. Easiest for you.”
    Will stood in the doorway. He seemed about to say something profound, but then he reached down and retrieved her gym bag. “Try to hurry. I’ll be outside.”

twenty-five
    July 15, 1975
    James Ulster grabbed Amanda by the back of the neck. She felt like a kitten snatched by its scruff. Her arms went slack. Her toes lifted from the ground.
    And then she remembered the revolver in her hand.
    She snaked the gun around her side and pulled the trigger. Once. Twice. Three times. His body jerked as he was hit, but his grip only tightened. She pulled the trigger again. The muzzle flash singed Amanda’s side. The gun was ripped from her hand. Ulster grunted. The muzzle was hot enough to burn his flesh. The gun clattered to the ground.
    Amanda dropped to her knees, feeling blindly for the weapon. Ulster jerked her up by her arm. She felt like the bone was cracking. Her feet left the ground again. Her back slammed against the house. The breath was knocked out of her. She kicked and clawed as Ulster’s