Page 134 of One Step Too Far

Nemeth groans. It’s a deep, rumbling sound torn from his chest. I don’t think it’s pain. I think it’s rage. It still makes me happy.

“I did it!” Marge, desperate now. “Blame me, arrest me. I shot everyone, did everything. My sister and I had a fight. I just couldn’t take her whining anymore so I pulled the trigger. And yes, at first I was horrified; I called Nemeth for help. He knew about the underground chambers in Devil’s Canyon and suggested we hide her body there, given its remoteness. But then the location became more popular, hikers not just passing through, but starting to hang out. The second woman, she was a geologist, curious about the rock piles and how they were formed. Nemeth had no choice. And then a few years after that, and eight years after that...” Marge’s voice drifts off.

“When Tim was first reported missing, his starting location was far enough away, we weren’t worried. But once it became clear he’d made it beyond that area and Nemeth started theorizing other routes the man might’ve taken... We waited two weeks, then hiked into Devil’s Canyon overnight, when no one would know. Sure enough. The kid was camping out in one of the caves. And come morning, he started exploring the rock piles, checking out some of the underground chambers. We made our decision. What had to happen, had to happen.”

My stomach roils. Nemeth moans in distress.

“Please. I confessed. Now help him!”

“Oh, I think there’s plenty of confessing still to come,” the sheriff says, taking Marge by the arm and snapping on handcuffs.

Luciana finally moves to the side, Daisy tucked beside her. The first nurse rushes in, two other staff members right behind her. They take inventory of the blood-spattered wall and fluid-soaked sheets, then shove me back.

“What did you do?” the nurse demands.

“Just sent him a little love from Timothy O’Day.”

“Get the hell out!” the nurse orders.

“But Bob has some love to deliver, too.”

I am forcefully pushed out of the room, where I join Luciana and Daisy in the corridor. The sheriff is holding Marge by one shackled arm, already on his radio issuing orders. Her gaze remains fixed on the viewing window, staring at her lover, who is now thrashing wildly as more alarms begin to shriek.

I recognize the look on her face. She is willing him to live. I know, because I did the same thing just a few days ago with Bob. I should say I want her to suffer the same result, but I’m actually crueler than that. I want Nemeth to make it. I want the wilderness legend to spend the rest of his life locked in a tiny cell with only one hour of fresh air a day.

The nights my restless brain takes over, I plan on picturing him there, then sleeping like a baby.

“I can’t believe it,” Luciana murmurs beside me. “I liked Nemeth, respected him. I thought we were friends.” She is stroking the top of Daisy’s head. The subdued Lab leans into her.

“We both need a new hobby,” I agree.

Luciana regards me earnestly. “Remain in Ramsey for a bit. Stay with me and Daisy, my treat. We could use the company.”

I don’t answer as we follow Sheriff Kelley and his new prisoner out of the ICU. Marge doesn’t turn around, but walks with her head held high, gaze straight ahead. I’m tempted to go to prison just to watch the other inmates break her.

“The feds are going to want to grill both of us,” I acknowledge finally. “And I would like to see Miguel and Scott released from the hospital. Not to mention we should meet Latisha. Have you seen her? I’m expecting full-on goddess to have captured so many hearts.”

“Exactly. And afterwards we can eat our way through Ramsey and take naps three times a day and use up all the hot water.”

“You drive a hard bargain.”

“That’s it. I’m booking a room for a week, and someplace way swankier than a budget motel. We deserve room service, a soaking tub, and a big-ass TV. I’ll even insist on extra dog treats for Daisy. She’s worth it.”

Luciana’s enthusiasm makes me smile. She paints such a pretty picture, everything I fantasized about just two days ago.

She’s only missing one thing: a certain detective I once knew in Boston and have never spoken to since.

If I dialed his number right now, would he answer? If he did, would I stay on the phone?

Luciana is happy. She already has her cell out, looking up hotels. I lag behind till I come to a small alcove where I can duck out of sight.

I tell myself I’m not exhausted or heartsick or world-weary.

I instruct myself that there’s still a missing eight-year-old boy waiting for me to take up his case.

I remind myself I need to track down Bob’s husband. I have to tell him how Bob died saving the rest of us. I must deliver Bob’s dying words of love.

I feel a break then. Something deep inside, tearing away. I don’t think I’ll get it back again.

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