The Cold Nowhere

54

Brooke pounded on Stride’s door.

She wasn’t dressed for the cold, and the Point was alive with winter wind. She wrapped her thin arms around her chest and backed up to the porch steps and stared down the length of Minnesota Avenue. Down the long road leading toward the city, she saw no headlights.

Where was he?

She’d parked her Kia on one of the stubby lakeside streets, hoping he would miss it. Her face and clothes were dusted with beach sand blown down from the dunes. On the other side of the house, she heard the windblown lake roaring like a tiger.

The door to Stride’s cottage opened slowly, and she saw a policewoman in uniform, her hand close to her sidearm. She was shorter than Brooke and just as thin. The young cop’s eyes were suspicious. Brooke ran to the door, trying to untangle her blonde hair from her face.

‘Is Lieutenant Stride here? I need to talk to him right away.’

‘Who are you?’

‘I’m Brooke Hahne. I run the downtown shelter. Can I come inside?’

‘No one comes in.’

‘Please, just call him. Can you do that? Or call Maggie — Sergeant Bei. She’s a friend. This is urgent.’

‘What is this about?’

Brooke hesitated. ‘I just need to talk to one of them.’

Over the policewoman’s shoulder she saw Cat stroll into the living room from one of the interior bedrooms. The girl noticed her and ran to the door. ‘Brooke! What are you doing here?’

‘Hello, Cat.’

‘What’s going on?’

‘I need to see Stride.’ She swallowed hard and added, ‘I–I know who’s doing this to you.’

‘You do?’ Cat tugged on the policewoman’s sleeve. ‘Let her in, please.’

‘Stride said nobody comes in,’ the cop protested.

‘I know Brooke. You can’t leave her out in the cold.’

The policewoman’s eyes traveled over Brooke’s body. It was obvious, in her blouse and skirt, that Brooke had no weapon. She’d left the knife and phone in her car. She shivered with a new gust of wind, and the cop reluctantly moved aside and let her inside the house.

‘Thank you,’ Brooke said.

‘I’m calling Sergeant Bei,’ the cop told her.

‘Yes, do that, please.’

‘Stay where I can see you, and don’t use the phone.’

‘Of course.’

Cat’s brown eyes were serious and concerned. She was as pretty as ever, with her golden face and flowing hair, but she didn’t look like a child now. She’d grown up. That was what death did to you. Cat instinctively threw her arms around Brooke in a tight hug, and Brooke felt guilty. She didn’t know if she could say what she needed to say to Cat.

It was me.

I’m the reason someone has been trying to kill you.

I’m the one who told him Margot was looking for you.

I’m the one who told him how to find you.

She couldn’t believe what she had done to protect herself. It was as if she were another person, someone from ten years ago, young and stupid. Since then, she’d tried to make her life about protecting girls like Cat, but instead her past had roared back to life, like the wind on the lake.

‘I’m so sorry,’ she whispered in Cat’s ear.

Brooke studied Cat’s face. The girl could see her guilt. The truth couldn’t hide anymore, and Brooke was tired of keeping it concealed. Cat knew that Brooke had done this to her, but there was no blame in her eyes. Just a deep, beautiful sadness.

‘Sit with me,’ Cat said.

Brooke heard the policewoman calling Maggie. She heard Maggie’s voice in reply. Fifteen minutes. Maggie would be there in fifteen minutes. She felt equal parts fear and relief, because this was the beginning of the end. Soon enough, it would all be done. She’d be arrested; her life would be over. It didn’t matter. She felt liberated.

Cat took her hand. It was odd, the girl leading the woman. Cat wore a bulky wool sweater, jeans and cowboy boots. She pulled Brooke into the dining room and they sat down at two of the chairs pulled out from the table. They were inches apart. Cat leaned forward and put her hands on Brooke’s knees. ‘Tell me what’s going on.’

Brooke felt tears slipping from her eyes. ‘I don’t know where to begin.’

‘Just talk.’

Just talk. If only it were that simple. She thought about her parents. At least they were both gone; they wouldn’t suffer the shame of learning the truth. She wondered what would have been worse for them, to know that their daughter had been involved in crimes that led to murder, or to know that it had all started when she’d begun sleeping with rich men for money. Lenny had been the first, but not the only one. For a girl growing up with religious parents, she’d found it strange that she felt no qualms about selling her body. It wasn’t anyone else’s business. No one knew.

Until him.

Until he found out what she was doing.

‘I didn’t have a choice,’ Brooke murmured.

‘About what?’ Cat said.

‘He would have exposed me. I would have been kicked out of school. My parents — my parents would have known what I was doing. It sounds like nothing now, but back then it felt like the end of the world. All I had to do was get the code. The alarm code. That was it. He swore no one would get hurt. I figured, who cares if a rich bastard had some things stolen?’

‘Lenny?’

‘Yes. It was supposed to be easy and safe, but everything went wrong. I couldn’t believe it when I saw the news that night. His wife was dead. Shot. Murdered. Because of me. All it was supposed to be was a stupid robbery, a few thousand dollars, and instead, I was a murderer. That was it, the rest of my life ruined. It didn’t matter whether I was there. I knew they’d convict me, too.’

Brooke heard the door of the house open and the angry whistle of the wind. Maggie was here for her. She hated to face her friend, but now that she’d begun to talk, it was amazing how easily the words flowed. She’d waited a long time to unburden her soul. She remembered two years earlier when she’d spoken to inmates at the women’s correctional facility in Shakopee. It had occurred to her then that it was only a matter of time before she found herself behind those walls. She’d always known that she couldn’t hide for ever.

‘I was panicked,’ she went on, ‘but he told me it was under control. He knew someone he could set up to take the fall. I was sure that Lenny would tell the police about me, but he said he had it covered. He had some ugly pictures of Lenny with one of the other UMD girls. Sure enough, Lenny never opened his mouth. Then a few weeks later, they arrested some poor Asian boy. They found things from the burglary in his apartment. It seemed like it was all going away. I began to think no one would ever know.’

Cat bowed her head. ‘That wasn’t the end, though, was it?’

Brooke took Cat’s hands, but let them go when the girl flinched. ‘No. I’m so sorry.’

‘Why my parents?’

‘You have to believe me, Cat, I didn’t know what he planned to do. He said he couldn’t do the job himself. He needed an alibi. So he got your father to do the break-in. He never said he planned to kill him, but with Marty gone there wasn’t any way to tie it back to us. I just never, ever thought that anything would happen to your mother.’

‘She didn’t know?’ Cat asked quietly.

‘She knew nothing. She was just a victim. Like you.’

Cat got up. Her chair made a scraping noise on the floor. Brooke reached out for her, but Cat turned away. The girl stood at the dining room windows, looking through the slats of the blinds. This was the way it had to be. Cat couldn’t forgive her. No one could.

Brooke opened her mouth to explain, but the hiss of the wind in the living room was so loud that she thought it would drown out her voice. Cold air bled through the house, raising goose bumps on her skin. The uneven floor beneath her feet groaned. The entire cottage shook under the assault, as if they were swirling inside the cone of a tornado.

Something was wrong.

Brooke rushed into the living room, but the policewoman had vanished. The room was empty. The door to the porch was open, letting in the elements. The open door banged like a hammer on the wood of the window frame. Bang bang bang.

Brooke stared at the doorway. The darkness beyond froze her with fear. Her face swung to Cat. ‘We have to get out of here right now.’

She hunted for something she could use as a weapon, but it was already too late. When she looked back at the door, there he was, standing on the porch, blocking their escape. His easy smile was gone, and in its place was cold death. He had a gun in his hand as he walked into the house.

‘Where’s the girl?’ he said.