She sat down next to me. “Is that right?” She was trying to mask her anxiety, but it seeped into her words. I couldn’t blame her.

“I know you said before that you only heard from him twice after you told him to get lost,” I said. “Did he ever mention the name Landon Keene?”

She thought hard for a moment, then shook her head. “Not that I recall. Our conversations were brief. The second time was a little longer I guess, but it was because I was reluctant to give him your address.” She shook her head again. “No. He didn’t mention that name. Why?”

I hadn’t decided yet what to tell her about Keene. But it didn’t seem like I had any choice other than to tell her exactly who he was.

“Simington worked for him,” I told her. “And he claims that he killed the two men in El Centro because Keene threatened us.”

“Us?”

“You and me.”

She tilted her head, curious. “I’m not sure I understand.”

I repeated Simington’s story, not getting to the current threats Keene was throwing around.

Carolina shrugged when I finished. “I believe it. The people he hung around with—I’m sure they were capable of making threats like that.” She paused. “And carrying them out.”

“But do you think that would’ve been enough for Simington to carry out the murders?” I asked. “Threats to us?”

She leaned back into the sofa and folded her hands in her lap. “You mean, would he have cared enough about you and me to go to jail?”

I nodded because that was exactly what I was asking. The more I thought about Simington’s story, the more I got hung up on thinking that protecting Carolina and me was enough justification for committing murder. Maybe he’d sent some money. Maybe he’d kept track of us. But I wasn’t certain that meant he cared about our well-being if it meant putting his in jeopardy.

“Honestly, I don’t know,” she said. “I’m inclined to say yes, though. As many bad things as he was, there was some good, too. When he called me the second time, to find out where you lived … he was like the man I met in the bar.”

“Which was?”

“Sincere, kind. Almost apologetic for who he was, like he knew he couldn’t help it.” She looked down at her hands. “I’m not a great judge of character, but I don’t think he was playing me that day.” She looked back to me. “He truly wanted to know where you were, to see what his son looked like. That’s why I gave in and told him.” She shifted on the old sofa cushions. “And I think he has always cared for me. He just couldn’t do it the way I needed him to.”

FORTY-ONE

We sat quiet for a few minutes, listening to the water tap against the roof and windows.

“I need to tell you something else, then,” I finally said.

“You certainly know how to light up a room,” she said, raising an eyebrow and smiling.

I appreciated her attempt at humor. The more time I spent with her when she was sober, the more I started to forget about our past and focus on how much I enjoyed being around her.

“I’m like a beacon of sunshine,” I said.

She laughed quietly. “Always.” She held up a hand. “I’m sorry. I don’t mean to interrupt. Something else, you said.” “I seem to have stirred Keene back to life,” I said. “Which means what?”

“Which means I think we need to be careful.”

The humor was gone from her expression now. “Why?”

“Because he told me that. Personally.”

“You’ve spoken to this man?”

I recounted what Simington told me and my encounter with Keene at the airport.

“I don’t think he’s kidding,” I said. “He doesn’t seem like the type. He killed the lawyer. There’s no reason to think he won’t kill again if he feels it’s necessary. He was at the airport to show me how close he can get to me.”

She wrapped her arms around herself like she was cold. “A beacon of sunshine.”

“I’m sorry,” I told her. “But I felt like I needed to tell you.”

She nodded. “No, no. It’s not your fault. I was teasing you, and it was inappropriate.” She put her hands on her knees. “What are you going to do?”

“I’m not sure yet. I need to think some things over.”

Her eyes zeroed in on me. “Don’t let him go because of me, Noah. I’ll be alright.”

I didn’t respond.

“If he killed that lawyer and he’s partly responsible for Russell’s situation, you should do what you can to make him pay,” she said. “Do not back away from this because of me. If you have other reasons, that’s fine. But don’t do it on my behalf.” She reached out and touched my arm. “I can take care of myself.”

I wasn’t sure that she could, but I appreciated what she was saying. Something else was nagging at me, though.

“Would he lie to me?” I asked. “Simington?”

A rumble of thunder echoed outside, the rain still slapping against the windows.

“Probably,” Carolina said. “I’d like to think that, with where he is now, with not much time left, he wouldn’t. At least to you. But that might be wishing for too much.”

That was what had been running through my thoughts since leaving the prison. What if he was trying to manipulate me? To get me to do something he wanted done? What if the facts weren’t as he presented them? What if he knew by pushing me in the right direction, I’d go after Keene? Was there something in it for him?

“I just can’t help but think he’s doing this for some other reason,” I said.

“Doing what?”

“Talking to me. Telling me these things about what happened and about Keene. Is there something in it for him?” I looked at her. “Why does he give me Keene’s name to begin with if he knows that Keene is a threat?”

She squeezed my arm. “I don’t know. With Russell, I could never tell.”

“I mean, he gives me Keene’s name. He knows I’ll look him up. Why give it to me at all and then tell me to stay away from him after I found him?”

“It may be just like he said. Maybe he was hoping that this man would be dead and gone. Maybe he wanted to know that, to give him some peace before his own death. I’m not saying he’s incapable of telling the truth, Noah. What he’s told you may be exactly as it is.”

I knew she was right. I would have to make my own decision based on what I wanted to do. No one else was going to give me a reason. I needed to own the decision. That didn’t make it any easier, though.

“Noah?” Carolina said.

“Yeah?”

Her fingers pressed into my skin. “It’s okay to be upset about this.”

“I know,” I said.

“Do you? It doesn’t seem like it.”

I turned away, watching the rain slide down the glass. Again, Carolina had surprised me with her ability to read me.

“I don’t want to care if he dies,” I said. “I really don’t. I know that if he lived, we wouldn’t have a relationship.” I hesitated. “But it’s like … it’s like I want to just know he’s around. So I can be pissed off at him. I don’t think I can be angry at him after he’s dead.” I turned back to Carolina. “Dumb, huh?”

She slid her hand to mine and forced her fingers into mine. She covered our hands with her other. “No, it’s not dumb. It’s exactly right.”

We sat there, listening to the thunder and the rain, thinking about that.

FORTY-TWO

I left Carolina’s and spent a couple hours busying myself with errands—groceries, gas, mail. But nothing cleared my head and I eventually found myself pointed in the direction of Coronado. I wanted to see Liz. After seeing Simington so isolated, I didn’t want to be alone, not even for a night.

The rain was splashing off the bridge, billowing into the bay like small explosions as I crossed over to the island. The normally bright lights of downtown were muted and murky.

I ran up the path to Liz’s house, and she opened before I could knock, waving me in from out of the tropical weather. She handed me a towel.

“I was wondering when I was going to hear from you,” she said.

I wiped off my face, dropped the towel, and pulled her to me, kissing her. Her hands were on my chest at first, protesting being pushed up against a soaking wet human being, but then her hands slipped around my neck and she forgot about my wet condition.