Page 136 of One Step Too Far

The police can’t release the letter, as the original will be used at trial. But I convince Sheriff Kelley to make six copies. One for each of the college friends, plus one for Latisha, and then a final one, which Neil promises to hand deliver to Patrice.

Martin’s body is eventually recovered from the ravine. The number of bullet wounds he sustained... How the man ever stalked Nemeth through the woods, let alone found the strength for that final attack, defies imagination.

Upon receiving the news, Luciana and I somberly tend to our final and most difficult chore. We call Patrice via FaceTime and in between bouts of tears we tell her how Martin never gave up. That despite increasingly difficult circumstances, he forged on, determined to bring their son home to her. That he told us she was the great love of his life while remembering Tim with such pride and devotion. That Martin considered himself a lucky man for having such an amazing family.

Martin died honoring the memory of their son, but he also died knowing they would all be together soon.

On the screen, Patrice’s face is impossibly pale, her bald head wrapped in a flowered scarf. She dabs at her blue eyes, thanks us for our report. Then she smiles, so bittersweet, I feel my heart break in my chest all over again.

She says she knew Martin wouldn’t fail. He promised her he’d find Tim, and Martin never lied. She thanks us for delivering these final memories of her husband and her son. She apologizes that we came to harm, as that’s the last thing she and Martin ever wanted or expected.

I tell her Martin saved my life.

She smiles and says that makes perfect sense, as Martin saved her life, too. And made all of it worth living.

She means it, I realize. And despite the awfulness of the conversation, she appears at peace in a way that’s difficult to explain. She’s a woman nearing the end and knows it. But she’s also a woman with no more unfinished business. Her son and her husband are coming home to her. And soon enough, they will be a family again.

Searchers recover more evidence as they scour the mountains. Bolt-holes previously established by Marge and Nemeth containing duffel bags filled with everything from hunting gear to boxes of ammo to additional MREs. No wonder they always seemed one step ahead. They had planned for their strategy well, two lifelong outdoorspeople, putting their knowledge and experience to a much darker use.

The police were able to examine the clothing Nemeth had been wearing when he was first brought to the hospital. Sure enough, the military pants bore Kevlar patches bearing nick marks from my blade, while the shirtsleeve had a bullet hole from Miggy’s wild shooting.

Nemeth doesn’t leave the hospital. He ends up going into cardiac arrest and that’s that. Martin’s final victory is complete, though I feel robbed on the subject. At least I can still picture Marge locked up in a cinder-block cell for the rest of her life. She hasn’t spoken again since her morning of true confession in Nemeth’s room. There are rumors she’s on suicide watch. There are more rumors she’ll never make it to trial. Plenty of ways to get to someone in prison, and plenty of locals who’d like to see that done.

Luciana and I end up reserving the suite for two weeks. There are that many questions we must answer. Or maybe that many bubble baths and naps that must be taken, as both Luciana and I work our way back to feeling human.

She and Daisy start going for longer and longer walks.

I find myself roaming the streets of Ramsey, getting closer and closer to the edge of town. One day I spy Lisa Rowell driving by and wave at her as she waves back. It feels weird to have been in a place long enough to be recognized by the locals.

It feels disorienting.

When I return that afternoon, I find Luciana sitting quietly at the end of her bed, Daisy sprawled beside her. She looks so serious, I feel my chest tighten with dread.

“We have a gift for you,” she says abruptly.

“ ‘We’?”

“Myself, Miguel, Scott, Neil, Josh, and Rob.”

“Bob’s husband?” Now I’m very confused.

“In the beginning, we all doubted you. Most didn’t even want you to come. But none of us would’ve survived without your perseverance and quick thinking.”

Luciana sticks out her hand. It contains a fat envelope. I eye it warily.

“What is it?”

“We respect your lifestyle. This is what you do, and how you choose to live. We also know the pay really sucks.”

Now I’m totally flummoxed. “You’re... you’re paying me?”

“Frankie, you’ve been wearing the same pair of jeans for over a week.”

“They’re all I have left.”

“I know. We know. We’re not trying to change you. We’re just trying to lighten your load. Maybe this makes it easier for you to take up your next case or maybe this enables you to do something else entirely, something you haven’t considered before. The future is a gift. You gave it to us. We want to give a piece back to you.”

I accept the envelope. No one’s ever offered me a wad of money before. And not because some of the other families weren’t grateful, but because you can’t give what you don’t have.

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