Dark Justice(67)

Address: 1287 Sloat Street.

For a moment I stared at it, wishing it hadn’t been this easy. Now I really had to go there.

I grabbed a piece of paper and wrote down the address.

Back in the hall I could still hear Aunt Margie’s soothing voice. Mom was quiet. I went to the bathroom. Then to the kitchen, where I guzzled a glass of water. I put the address in my purse. After that I found myself in the TV room, trying to think what needed to be moved from my car to Aunt Margie’s vehicle. Probably everything.

Except Samuelson’s gun. That still lay in the tote bag. If the lights went out tonight and stayed that way, would Aunt Margie need it for protection?

But if the police searched her house and found it, she could be arrested.

She may be arrested anyway, as soon as police spotted my car in her house.

I dropped my face in my hands. I couldn’t even make this simple decision. How was I supposed to drive over three hours back to San Carlos? I’d fall asleep at the wheel. And that would be just the beginning of what I faced.

Footsteps sounded in the hall. I walked that direction—and saw Mom headed for the bathroom.

Aunt Margie approached me, her cheeks pale. “I’m so sorry you had to go through that.” She kept her voice low. “Don’t know how I managed to calm her down. For some reason the logic worked.”

“I know why.” My throat tightened. “Because you’re not me.”

“Oh, Hannah, don’t say that.”

“It’s true. I’m her caregiver. And she takes it out on me.”

“She doesn’t know any better.”

“I realize that. Still, it’s . . .” I looked at the floor.

Aunt Margie squeezed my shoulder. “You’re wonderful with her. It wouldn’t be easy for anyone.”

I managed a nod.

Down the hall the bathroom door closed.

My aunt turned toward the kitchen. “I’ll get you my car key and cell phone.”

“And I need to move our things over to your car.” I walked out to the garage and transferred the items over. When I picked up the tote bag, I hesitated, then took it into the kitchen. “Aunt Margie, there’s a gun in here. A big one with a silencer. Do you want it?”

Her eyes rounded. “Whatever would I do with that?”

“Protect yourself.”

She considered the bag. “I’d just shoot myself in the leg. You keep it.” She shuddered.

I returned to the garage and put it in the trunk of her car.

As I stepped back through the kitchen door, I found Mom standing at the sink next to my aunt, drinking water. “Margie has some water bottles for us,” she told me. “And some cookies. Isn’t that nice?”

Did she even remember her outburst?

“Yes, Mom, that’s nice.”

She set down her glass. “We’re going to find the daughter now, aren’t we. In Raleigh.”

I gave her a sad smile. She wasn’t too far off. “Yes.”

“So we can keep our promise to Morton.”

“That’s right.”

“He was such a nice man.”

“He was.”

“How he must have suffered.” Her chin trembled.

“I know. That’s why we have to fix this.”

Mom cocked her head. “Hannah, you can’t fix everything. Sometimes you just have to let God do it.”

Her words struck the core of me.

“Like the Bible verse says, ‘He guards the steps of His faithful ones, for a man does not prevail by his own strength.’” Mom’s gaze drifted out the window. “I can’t remember what book it’s in . . .”

My aunt and I exchanged a glance. What was that in her expression? Agreement? Surprise? Sadness?

Maybe all three.

I aimed another smile at my mother. “You’re a very wise woman, Mom.”

She beamed at me.

A few minutes later the three of us were in the garage, hugging each other. “Aunt Margie,” I had to warn her one last time, “you know you’re going to be in trouble if the police come and find my car here.”

She shrugged. “Don’t you worry about me. I’ll handle it.”

But what if she got into the hands of the wrong police officer? Someone who was working with Wade and Harcroft? “Maybe you should go with us.”

That was insane. She’d be in even more danger with me.

Aunt Margie chuckled. “You want to be responsible for two old women?”

I opened my mouth, but no answer came.

She patted my arm. “Don’t you worry about me. Just go and do what you have to do. Someday you’re going to tell me the whole story.”

My throat tightened. I gave her another hard hug. Then turned to help Mom into the car. I buckled her seatbelt for her.