"It's not nonsense. It helped her remember, and now she's trying to do the right thing. We have to help her before Pendleton gets to her." I grabbed my coat from him and the pocket wacked against a table, making a loud clunk. I sucked in a sharp breath.

"What the h.e.l.l was that?" Mitch asked, his face riddled with suspicion.

"Nothing."

"What are you hiding, Tink?" He reached for my coat. "I said nothing." I jerked away from him.

He sighed, took a step forward, and easily took my coat from my hands. His eyes never left mine as he reached inside the pocket and pulled out the contents. His face grew hard, and he looked at his hand to confirm what he obviously suspected. Then he stared me down, looking angry and disappointed at the same time.

"You know, you almost had me convinced," he said quietly, gazing at the bottle of digoxin. "But my past experiences should have clued me in. Women can't be trusted, especially frauds from the city like you."

"That's not fair. That's not even mine. Someone has been trying to set me up. You have to believe me."

"Life's not fair, and I'm not buying anything you say anymore." He grabbed my arm and hauled me outside and then stuffed both me and my coat into his car. "I'm taking you in."

"But what about Maude?"

"You let the department worry about her. Our partnership is officially terminated."

"What are you going to do to me?"

"Make sure you don't leave town, which is probably what you were about to do. In fact, I wouldn't be surprised if you and Pendleton have been working together from the start. I think you're the one who needs a lie detector test. I'm taking you both down."

I sat quietly, looking out the window, unable to process what had just happened. I couldn't believe Mitch actually thought I was guilty. After all we'd been through, that hurt. My instincts were right. Falling for him was such a bad idea.

"Now you get quiet?" he grumbled through his teeth, the muscle in his jaw knotting with frustration.

"I plead the Fifth until I talk to my lawyer." I had to wonder if he'd cared about me at all. He was angry because he thought I'd duped him, but that didn't mean he was hurt or brokenhearted.

"It must be bad if you're willing to call your mother."

Oh, it was bad all right, but I had no intention of calling my mother. I did, however, have every intention of defending myself. Just as soon as I found a way to escape. We rode in silence for the next couple of blocks, and then he turned down a side road that was a shortcut to the station.

"Look, over there." I pointed out his window. "I think I see Maude!"

"Where?" Mitch turned his head to look out his window, and I grabbed the wheel, yanking it to the right.

"What the h.e.l.l?" Mitch said, fighting for control as the car spun wildly in a wide 360-degree turn.

I screamed, unbuckling my seat belt and opening my door all in one motion while the car was still spinning.

"Wait, you're going to kill yourself," he shouted, but it was too late.

He lunged for me, but I tumbled out the door, hitting the ground hard and rolling into a ditch. Seconds later I heard a loud crash and looked up to see his car wrapped around a tree.

"Oh my G.o.d," I whispered, climbing to my feet and hobbling in his direction, battered and bruised.

I'd only wanted to escape. I hadn't counted on the roads being that slippery or, G.o.d forbid, him getting hurt.

I reached his car. The radiator hissed steam into the frigid air. I managed to crank his door open and pressed my lips together as I looked at him. His head rested against the steering wheel with a b.u.mp and trickle of blood oozing from it. I slowly reached my hand out and touched his neck, wilting with relief when I felt a pulse. His chest rose and fell with steady breaths. He would not be happy with me.

I'd knocked him out cold.

I called 911 from his cell phone and then left it turned on inside his car. He had a blanket in the backseat, so I covered him up. Once I was sure he would be okay, I kissed his cheek and whispered, "I'm sorry," then shut his door and took off running.

My house wasn't that far away, but it felt like forever in the ice and snow. Opening my front door, I flew inside and grabbed my suitcase. Running upstairs, I tossed it on my bed and started throwing essentials inside. I didn't know who I was more afraid of at the moment: Pendleton or the Grumpster. Either way, sticking around now was not an option.

I was officially a fugitive.

I had no clue where I was going to go, but I figured anyplace was better than here. I only prayed they found Maude in time and that she could identify the killer. I needed time to figure out how to prove my innocence. I had no connection to the killer at all, but Mitch was determined to find one somewhere.

When the police hadn't ruled Amanda Robbins's death a suicide, Pendleton must have tried to set me up since I was also a suspect. He knew I was getting too close, and now he'd escaped from jail. If he caught Maude, I was a goner for sure.

I turned toward my bed and blinked. Morty had appeared out of nowhere as usual. He sat on top of my suitcase like he didn't want me to go. I picked him up and deposited him on the bed.

"I'll be back. I promise." I petted him behind the ears and then picked up my suitcase and headed for the stairs.

Morty jumped in front of me and hissed.

"What is with you?" I nudged him out of the way, and he scratched me with his paw. "Ow!" I rubbed my hand. He'd drawn blood. "Naughty boy. Why'd you do that?"

He licked his lip and kept staring at me, the hair on his back raised. He really didn't want me to go out the door, but I didn't have time to figure out why.

"I'm sorry, Morty. I'm not abandoning you. I have to go away for a little while, but I will be back. You have my word on that." I hoisted my suitcase and kept moving. When I got to the top of the stairs, Morty was already at the bottom, staring up at me and meowing.

It was a strange and eerie meow.

I stopped in my tracks and pursed my lips at him. "Morty, this isn't funny," I said, but then I heard it.

A noise coming from downstairs.

20.

Oh my G.o.d, what if someone was breaking into my house?

Was it Pendleton coming to kill me? Or maybe Mitch seeking revenge? Or the police coming to lock me up and throw away the key? None of the options were favorable, but I didn't have a clue what to do.

I listened a minute, but didn't hear anything more. I didn't want to call the police on a false alarm, yet I wasn't foolish enough to open the door. Maybe if I peeked out through the peephole, I would see something. I looked outside and almost fell over with relief. As I unlocked the door and yanked it open, a gust of wind filled with snow swirled around my legs. "Goodness, Maude, you scared the wits out of me."

She gave me a look almost as creepy as Morty's meow had been, and for a brief moment I wondered if maybe she were the killer. But that was crazy. The vision had clearly shown the killer was a man, although it had also revealed that Maude was indirectly involved in some way. I wasn't so sure I wanted to invite her in.

"Are you okay?" I asked when she stood there, her eyes wide and glazed, giving me a funny look.

"No," she said, shaking her head, looking as though she were in shock. "Everything is a mess."

"But I thought everything was clear, and you were going to identify the killer."

"I was."

"The police are looking for you. I was on my way out. I can drop you off at the station, or near it, anyway." No way was I getting too close to a jail of any kind.

"I can't go anywhere." Her eyes met mine sadly. "And neither can you, I'm afraid."

"Why not?" An uneasy feeling settled over me, and I took a step back.

"Because I won't let you," said a menacing male voice from just outside the door.

I looked around for a weapon, but it was too late. The door swung open wide, and I saw a man holding a gun pointed at Maude, only it wasn't Alex Pendleton. . . .

It was her husband, Bernard.

I gasped. "Mr. Sampson? What on earth are you doing?"

He pushed Maude all the way in and shut the door behind him. "What I should have done from the beginning. Get rid of the evidence."

It finally sank in. "You're the killer?"

He scowled. "I'm not a killer. What happened with Ms. Robbins was an accident."

"Okay, then help me understand." I looked around for Morty, but I didn't see him. Some watch cat he turned out to be. If I could keep Bernard talking, it would buy me some time to figure out what to do.

"I don't have to tell you anything," he spat. "It's because of you we're in this mess right now."

"Me?" I took another step back. "What in the world did I do?"

"You and those stupid tea leaves. If you'd left well enough alone, Pendleton probably would have taken the wrap. But no, you had to go and help Maude remember with all your psychic mumbo jumbo. All this time I been taking care of her, and now she has to up and get sane on me. It's not fair. None of it is fair."

"Not fair?" Maude snapped. "You're not the one losing his memory. Your life will go on. Soon I won't remember mine at all. How is that fair, Bernard? Huh? You tell me." She started to cry. "I might as well be dead."

"See, that's just the thing," Bernard ground out. "Save your tears, woman. I worked my whole life taking care of you and the girls. We saved and we planned, and now it was supposed to be our time. We were going to retire and move to Florida where I could fish every day if I wanted. But no, you had to go and lose your mind. When you got fired, it set us back financially. I had to postpone our retirement and take care of you. I'm exhausted, Maude. I can't do it anymore."

"But I didn't get sick on purpose, Bernie. And why kill Amanda? You knew how much she meant to me," Maude said on a sob.

"I went to her and pleaded with her to give you your job back. She refused to listen. Said she was sorry, but her hands were tied. I got so angry. I could feel all my rage and frustration build in me until I couldn't stand it anymore. So I pushed her. I swear that's all I did, but she was so dang small. She fell back and hit her head, and just like that she was dead."

"You should have called the police right then and there," I interjected in a calm voice. "You'd be in far less trouble. You still will be in less trouble if you call now."

"I panicked. Haven't you ever panicked?" He looked at my suitcase. "Seems to me you were doing just that when I got here, so get off your high-and-mighty horse."

He had me there.

"Besides, even if Amanda's death was an accident, I'd still do time. I'm too old to do time." He looked back at Maude with pleading eyes. "You've got to understand my situation. What it will be like for me once you don't remember."

"You should have killed me instead of her, then." The look on her face was pure anguish. "I'm obviously dead to you already."

"I told you I didn't mean for it to happen, but it did and that's that. So be it. I had picked up your prescription for digoxin before stopping by her place. After the accident, I poured some in her cup and thought people would a.s.sume she'd committed suicide on account of everyone knew something was wrong with her. I forgot all about the stupid note, though. I meant to leave one. When they declared her death a murder and suspected Miss Meadows, I tried to help that theory along by framing her." He looked at me. "No hard feelings, ma'am."

"No hard feelings?" I sputtered. "It's just my life you were messing with!" The man was insane.

He raised his hands in the air. "I was desperate. When that didn't work, I came clean about Maude's memory loss and figured they might think it was her." He glanced at her and winced. "I'm sorry, Maude, but like you said, soon you won't remember anything, so what was the harm? A nuthouse or a nursing home, you wouldn't know the difference, anyway. I've already done my grieving for you after I first found out about your condition. Don't you want me to have the retirement I deserve?"

"You can't be serious. You deserve to rot in h.e.l.l," Maude said. She looked at me, heartbroken and beaten down, like she didn't have the strength to go on. "I can't believe I ever had children with that monster."

"Shut up," he yelled. "I gave you everything. We haven't been in love for years. We've gone through the motions so your precious town wouldn't be scandalized. I stayed by your side for the sake of our girls. I took care of you all. Now this is the thanks you show me?" He waved his gun about. "You're the one who deserves to rot in h.e.l.l. And I'm in just the right frame of mind to send you there." He c.o.c.ked his gun and aimed it in our direction.

Oh my G.o.d, we really were going to die!

Maude and I huddled together, and suddenly the front door burst open. Mitch came barreling through with his gun drawn and pointed straight at Bernard.

Bernard moved faster than I'd ever seen a human being move, let alone a man of his age. He spun in Mitch's direction, ducked as Mitch fired off a shot, and then pulled the trigger on his own gun, shooting Mitch in the arm. Mitch dropped his gun and grabbed his arm on a howl of pain.

"I spent four years in the Marines right out of high school before I got hired at the mill. Not to mention I've been trophy hunting since I was fourteen, son. I'm an expert marksman. Now get on over there with my wife and that quack."

I scoffed, my jaw falling open. What was with everyone?

Mitch stumbled over to me, blood pouring out his arm, taking my mind off nonbelievers. I ripped off the hem of my skirt and wrapped it around his arm. Then I ripped off another piece and wrapped it around his still-bleeding head.

"I thought you'd be in the hospital by now," I said quietly. "I called 911, you know. And I'm sorry, by the way."

"I woke up right after you left, called off 911, and then followed you." He gave me a sarcastic look. "Believe me, I planned on making you sorry."

"Yet somehow I managed to make you even sorrier," I said on a wince. "Story of our relationship."

He grunted and then turned to Bernard. "You'll never get away with this, Sampson."

"Says you. Everyone thinks I'm out looking for my poor wife. Pendleton breaking out was a happy coincidence. I've got enough retirement money for one, and I've already set up a secret account. I hear Mexico is as nice as Florida."

"Then why didn't you simply leave town earlier today?" Mitch asked, scratching his head. "You could have been long gone by now."

"I had intended to . . . until Maude remembered the night of the murder." Bernard glared at his wife. "I saw it plain as day when she looked at me with horror in her eyes, and then she ran off. I knew I had to follow her and put an end to her misery and mine. If she lived, she would rat me out. If she died, I'd just look like the grieving widow who ran away to drown his sorrows in Mexico. Suited me just fine."

"Bernie, you don't want to do this," Maude pleaded with him. "Think of our girls."

"I am thinking of them. If I don't take care of you, they'll have to. They have no idea what it's like to have you look at them blankly with no recollection whatsoever." He stood up straight and nodded once as though he'd made up his mind. "I won't put them through that."

"Mr. Sampson, you can't be serious. An accidental killing is one thing. But premeditated murder is a whole different matter," I said. "Can you honestly kill us all, kill your own wife in cold blood?"

His bottom lip quivered, and his cheek pulsed, but he refused to waver. "My mind's made up. Move to the living room, all of you." He gestured with his gun.

We all moved into the living room and lined up on the couch where he was pointing. He faced us like a oneman firing squad. He stood rigid with his back to the bookshelves against my wall.

"I'm sorry, folks, really I am. I wish things could have been different, but they're not. So be it." He took a breath and lifted his gun.