Page 86 of Call Off the Dark

There was a long pause, then Calhoun said, “Helen, someone pointed a gun at Franklin outside the courthouse today.”

Helen pulled her car to the curb and parked it. She needed to concentrate so she didn’t say the wrong thing. “What do you mean?”

“A person with sunglasses and a scarf or something obscuring their face pointed a gun at Jack Franklin.”

“Did they shoot him?”

“No.”

“That’s too bad.”

There was another pause, then Calhoun said, “Helen, he’s been sentenced. Twenty-five years to life.”

“When is he eligible for parole?” Helen already knew the answer, but she wanted to make Calhoun say it.

“Twenty-five.”

“Congratulations,” Helen said in a tight voice.

“I’m sorry, Helen.” Calhoun sighed. “I know it’s not the outcome you wanted. But I’m glad you didn’t do anything stupid today. Anything too stupid, that is.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Helen said.

All she could think about was how she was going to have to wait another twenty-five years to get a chance to kill the masked man.

In the end, Helen just needed to get out of Seattle. The city had failed both her and Tyler, and she wanted to be in a place where his memory wasn’t the imprint on every sidewalk table, the sound in every shop’s door chime, and the light cast from every streetlamp. Seattle had once belonged to them, and now it was empty concrete without him. It was a sad place full of so many uncertainties and unknown dangers.

Deep down, she knew running away wasn’t the answer. But there was a faint fluttering in her chest when she looked into Wade’s hazel eyes and a little voice in her head that said, But maybe it could be.

Chapter Thirty-Three

Present day

There’s something about the hush of meeting secretly in the night. The air becomes charged with a tempest of temptation the moment the words are whispered: We need to talk alone.

Helen had spoken those words to Isaac in the kitchen earlier in the day, and now she felt that forbidden energy as she glided down the hallway, and she felt it as the floorboards creaked beneath her feet when she entered the living room. This time, the floors weren’t creaking as an expression of her weariness, they were an announcement that a much-anticipated moment had arrived.

Isaac turned expectantly at the sound. It was only his third night with them, yet it felt like he’d been there much longer. It already felt normal that he was standing in front of the fireplace looking at her books, just waiting for her to emerge from her bedroom. It hadn’t taken long for Wade to fall asleep, perhaps nudged along by the meds. Until his body adjusted to them, it would be normal for him to feel drowsy at first.

Helen was still in her dress and shoes, and Isaac was in his pants and a black T-shirt, presumably the undershirt he had been wearing beneath his canvas button-up, but it was the first time she had seen him not in his long sleeves. Isaac also had his boots on, since Wade was no longer removing his inside the farmhouse. (I need to be in my boots in case he turns on us, Helen!) At her insistence, Wade had at least begrudgingly placed them next to the bed before he got into it.

Isaac had been carefully wiping his boots down with the rags by the front door, but Helen had given up on the floor for now. It seemed like an inconsequential thing to worry about in light of everything else.

Helen and Isaac came together in the center of the room.

He spoke in a low voice. “What did you want to tell me?” His hand touched her wrist lightly as their heads bent toward each other. It felt so easy, this solidarity.

“It might be hard for you to hear.”

“I’m sure I’ve heard worse.”

When Helen didn’t speak right away, she felt the pressure on her wrist increase ever so slightly. Reassuring, encouraging.

“Wade is having some type of guilt-driven delusions,” she finally said.

“What are those?”

She hesitated, but not because she was unsure if she should tell Isaac what was happening. She was convinced he needed to know, and she wanted him to confirm she was handling it correctly. She hesitated because she knew the admission was so shocking it would cause a shift between them. His hand was there against the delicate bones of her wrist, and she didn’t want it to go away. But at last, she said, “He believes you were killed in that tractor accident.”