Chapter 17: The Empty Crib

Hallie's POV

Eli went to the clubhouse at dusk in Dot's truck, in his pajamas, with his bear.

Three old ladies and the old brother with the ponytail were in the kitchen with him, and two prospects held the door.

I kissed his curls, and I didn't cry until the truck was out of sight.

Then I went back to the cabin and made it look the way Rae had described it.

One lamp on low.

The crib by the stove with a folded blanket in it, and the stuffed rabbit he never slept with.

The back door's latch hanging loose, because Gage had unscrewed it that afternoon.

Gage sat in the dark corner of the kitchen with a rifle across his knees that he told me he wouldn't need.

I sat on the mattress with my phone and a flashlight and my own pulse in my ears.

"He may not come," I said.

"He'll come."

"What if he doesn't?"

"Then I'll stand outside your door every night until the DNA is in a judge's hand."

I almost smiled.

Our lawyer, the old brother's younger brother, sat in a car down the lake road with a camera.

The deputy from Sunday waited in the trees with a second deputy.

My whole family was gathered in the dark to catch one man, and I hated that I felt safer than I had in three years.

At ten past two a truck stopped on the gravel, a long way up the road.

Two doors closed.

I held still.

Boots came through the pine needles, one man heavy and slow, one lighter.

Gage's breath changed in the corner.

A hand tried the front door and found it locked.

Then the boots went around the side, to the back.

The loose latch clicked.

The back door opened with a long, soft scrape, and a flashlight beam crossed the kitchen floor.

Brock came in first.

He had on a black hooded jacket, and he carried a folded blanket over his arm and a diaper bag.

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