Page 60 of The Angel Maker

“I’m surprised you don’t already know, since apparently you’re Sherlock fucking Holmes now.”

“Who’s Nathaniel Leland?”

She looked away to one side for a moment and then back at him again.

“Why didn’t you tell me about the day care?” she said.

“What?”

“About the red car the children saw.”

He stared at her, momentarily confused. Then he shook his head.

“Honestly? Because I knew you’d be like this.”

“Like what?”

“Likethis.” He sounded like he wanted to laugh. “I mean,listen to yourself. You’ve already decided it was a red car. When the thing is—at least as far as I recall—nobody mentioned the color at all. Butthat’swhat you zero in on, isn’t it? And that isexactlywhy I didn’t tell you.”

The anger inside her was almost too much now. She couldn’t stand the way he was making himself seem so reasonable. So sensible. Especially because, yes, she’d slipped up there. But there was a lot he didn’t know, wasn’t there? She could have told him right now, but in the heat of an argument, giving up secrets felt like giving up ground.

“You should have told me,” she said.

“Yeah, maybe. And perhaps I evenwouldhave done. But then there’s all this stuff with Chris, and—”

“What?”

No swearing this time. No raised volume. But there was such ice in her voice—in just that one word—that it stopped her husband dead. He just stared at her for a few seconds, looking helpless.

“I know you, Katie,” he said finally.

“Do you though?”

“Of course I do.” His voice was much quieter now. “You worry too much. You jump at shadows. You’re always scared that something terrible is going to happen. And I know why you—”

“No.” She held up a hand. “We’re not doing this.”

She stepped across to the chair, grabbed her jacket from the back, and pulled it on. Sam just stood there looking helpless. He took a single step toward her, but the look on her face made him take it right back again.

“Katie, please,” he said. “I know you blame yourself. But it wasn’t—”

“We arenotfucking doing this.”

And then she turned around and headed straight for the front door.

Twenty-two

But Sam’s question bothered her as she drove away from the house.

Who’s Nathaniel Leland?

She hadn’t been able to find out anything about the boy online yesterday, and not having an answer for her husband only increased her anger now. Because therehadto be a reason the child had been incorporated into James Alderson’s portrait of her brother with all those other images.

All those other images…

The answer hit her out of nowhere—and then she felt even more angry, this time with herself. While she might not know who Nathaniel Leland was, there was someone who might.

Her mother’s house was quiet as she let herself in.

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