“It was Janice’s idea, I think. If the body did turn up, few would suspect a cop’s fiancée. She didn’t plan to go through with it.”

“Why do you say that?”

“The first thing she did when she got back was send him shopping with her mother so she could sneak back here and beat the hell out of Grace. He was cover. That’s all he would ever be.”

“It’s sad,” Robin said.

“I know.”

Robin closed her eyes, pushed closer. She slipped her hand under my shirt. Her palm lay cool on my chest. “Tell me about New York,” she said.

CHAPTER 35

I got out of the hospital on the same day that Dolf got out of jail. He picked me up and drove us to the edge of the quarry outside of town. The granite was gray in the shade, pink where the light touched it. Crutches dug into my arms as I stood and looked down on clear water in the bottom of the quarry. Dolf closed his eyes and held his face to the sun. “This is what I thought about while I was inside,” he said. “Not the farm or the river. This place, and I’ve not been here for decades.”

“No memories here,” I said. “No ghosts.”

“And it’s pretty.”

“I don’t want to talk about my father,” I said, and looked at him. “That’s the real reason you brought me here. Isn’t it? So you could do his dirty work for him.”

Dolf leaned against the truck. “I would do anything for your father. Would you like to know why?”

I turned and started limping down the hill. “I’m not going to listen to this.”

“It’s a long way back to town.”

“I’ll make it.”

“Damn it, Adam.” Dolf caught my arm. “He’s human. He messed up. It was a long time ago.” I pulled my arm away, but he kept talking. “Sarah Yates was young and beautiful and willing. He made a mistake.”

“Some mistakes you have to pay for,” I said.

“I asked if you’d like to know why. Well, I’m going to tell you. It’s because he’s the best man I’ve ever known. Being his friend has been a privilege, a goddamn honor. You’re blind if you don’t see that.”

“You’re entitled to your opinion.”

“Do you know what he sees when he looks at Grace? He sees a grown woman and a lifetime of memories, an amazing human being that would not be here without the mistake you’re so ready to damn him for. He sees the hand of God.”

“And I see the death of the finest woman I ever knew.”

“Things happen for a reason, Adam. The hand of God is everywhere. Haven’t you figured that out yet?”

I turned, started walking, and knew that he was right about one thing. It was a long way back to town.

I spent the next four days at Robin’s place. We ordered in. We drank wine. We did not talk about death or forgiveness or the future. I told her all that I could about New York City.

We read the papers together.

The shooting was big news, and articles ran across the state. Red Water Farm was described as a North Carolina landmark. Three bodies in five years. Six towers. Billions at stake. It did not take long for the wire services to pick it up. One enterprising reporter wrapped the story into a larger piece about nuclear power, rural desecration, and the price of unstoppable growth. Others spoke of obstructionism. Editorials ran hot in all of the major papers. People clamored for my father to sell. Environmentalists protested. The situation escalated.

On the fourth day, the power company announced that it had settled on a secondary site in South Carolina. Better water supply, they claimed. Just as convenient. But I had my own suspicions. Too much controversy. Too much heat.

In the wake of the announcement, a stunned silence rippled across the county. I felt the pop of vacuum as imaginary wealth was sucked back into the ether. That was the day I called Parks. The day I decided to put the problems aside and do what I could to help. We met for coffee at a restaurant ten miles down the interstate. After a few cautious words, he asked me to get to the point.

“How deep is my father’s debt?” That was my question.

He looked at me for a long time, trying to figure me out. I knew that he and my father had spoken. He’d told me as much.

“Why do you want to know?”

“The farm has been in my family for two centuries. Much of the vineyard has burned. My father is in debt. If the farm is at risk, I want to help.”

“You should be talking to your father,” Parks said. “Not going through an intermediary.”

“I’m not ready to do that.”

He drummed long fingers on the table. “What do you propose?”

“He bought me out for three million. I’ll buy back in for the same price. It should be enough to see him through.”

“You have that much left?”

“I made good investments. If he needs more, I have it.”

The lawyer rubbed his face, thought about it. He looked at his watch. “Are you in a rush?” he asked.

“No.”

“Wait here.”

I watched him through the window. He stood in the parking lot, cell phone to his ear, and argued with my father. His face still held the heat when he came back to the table. “He said no.”

“Did he say why?”

“I can’t talk about that.”

“But he gave you a reason?”

The lawyer nodded. “A pretty good one.”

“And you won’t tell me what it is.”

He spread his hands and shook his head.

It was Dolf who finally explained it to me. He showed up at Robin’s the next morning. We spoke in the shade of the building, at the edge of the parking lot. “Your father wants to make things right. He wants you to come home, but not because you have a financial interest. Not to protect your investment.”

“What about the money he owes?”

“He’ll refinance, leverage more acreage. Whatever it takes.”

“Can he do it?”

“I trust your father,” he said, and the statement had layers of meaning.

I walked with Dolf to his truck. He spoke to me through the open window. “Nobody’s seen Jamie,” he said. “He hasn’t been home.” We both knew why. Miriam was his twin, and our father had shot her down. Worry filled Dolf’s eyes. “Look for him, will you?”

I called my broker in New York and arranged to transfer funds to a local branch. When I went looking for Jamie, I had a cashier’s check for three hundred thousand dollars in my pocket. I found him at one of the local sports bars. He sat in a booth in the back corner. Empties stretched from one end of the table to the other. As far as I could tell, he had neither shaved nor bathed in days. I limped to the table, slipped in across from him, and propped the crutches against the wall. He looked destroyed.

“You okay?” I asked.

He said nothing.

“Everybody’s looking for you.”

When he spoke, he slurred, and I saw in him the kind of anger that had all but destroyed me. “She was my sister,” he said. “Do you understand?”

I did. As different as they had been, they were still twins.

“I was there,” I said. “He had no choice.”

Jamie slammed a bottle on the table. Beer shot out and spattered my sleeve. People stared, but Jamie was oblivious. “There’s always a choice.”

“No, Jamie. Not always.”

He leaned back, rubbed giant, callused hands over his face. When he looked at me, it was like looking into a mirror. “Go away, Adam. Just go away.” He put his head in his hands and I slipped the check across the table.

“Anything you need,” I said, and hobbled out. I turned once at the door and saw him there. He held the check in his fingers, then put it down. He found me across the room and raised his hand. I would never forget the face that he showed me.

Then he looked down and reached for another beer.

When I went to see Grace, it was easier than I thought. I did not see my mother when I looked at her. In that, at least, my father had been right. It was not her fault, and I loved her no less. She looked worn, but the truth rested more lightly on her than it did on me. “I always thought my parents were dead,” she explained. “Now I have two, and a brother.”