Rick Mofina - Into the Dark

Healing a day at a time.

Like the burns on my wrist.

And whenever she could, Claire went to see Amber, who was staying with a friend in Torrance. For weeks after, Amber’s face still bore the traces of cuts and bruises.

“I have good days and bad days,” Amber told her over tea.

Her divorce from Eric was final. He no longer contacted her. It was over and she was rebuilding her life with the help of the “excellent” psychologists Martha Berman had arranged.

“Claire,” Amber said. “You don’t have to keep checking on me. I never ever blamed you. Eric’s loser relatives thought I should sue you. I told them we were both victims of the same monster. If it wasn’t for you, I’d be dead. I told them that he wanted to kill you, too. I got the whole story from Detective Tanner.”

This time, Amber took her hand.

“We have to move on, Claire.”

That’s what Amber was doing. During Claire’s last visit she’d noticed a bouquet of fresh roses for Amber. They were from Les Campbell, the Alhambra police officer. “He’s been very nice. I like him,” Amber said.

Now, as Claire sat on the bench near Julie’s headstone, a warm soothing breeze caressed her, as if nudging her to take the next steps.

After police had released the crime scene at Big Bear Lake, Claire hired a contractor to remove the charred ruins and erase any trace of all structures on the property. Then she listed it for sale. A film executive, known for notorious acquisitions, was interested.

Claire also listed the house in San Marino.

Martha was helping her transfer her practice, ensuring Alice would remain employed while Claire considered her future.

Listening to the birdsong, she thought of the business card in her purse from Mark Harding, a reporter with the AllNews Press Agency. He had come to her door several times.

He’d been respectful in his persistence that she break her silence and give him an exclusive interview. Tanner had vouched for him, indicating that Harding’s cooperation early in the investigation was critical. “But you don’t owe him anything. It’s entirely up to you if you want to talk to him,” Tanner had written in an email.

Yesterday, over the phone, Harding told Claire that he wanted to write “A dignified tribute to you, Julie Glidden and Amber. I’d like to tell the human story of what you did to stop this monster. You’re the heroes. You can set the record straight on any aspects.”

There were many. Word had emerged that Ruben Montero’s group, the Great Light and Hope Association, revoked its honor for Robert Bowen. Shaken by what some called, “shock, disbelief and betrayal,” the board also ordered that Bowen’s framed photo be removed from the community hall and destroyed.

As expected, there’d been a lot of online chatter accusing Claire of being “too stupid to live,” for being married to the devil and not knowing it. “Was she blind to his tail and cloven hooves?”

While Claire’s anonymous defenders said, “Ask the woman he saved in the freeway miracle if she knew a monster was rescuing her baby. This guy outsmarted everyone.”

Claire considered agreeing to an interview with Harding, but not today.

She stood and touched Julie’s headstone, then left.

As she neared her car, she saw another one parked next to it. Tanner was leaning against his front fender, arms folded, watching her.

“Martha Berman said you might be here.”

“Hi, Joe.”

“I don’t mean to intrude.”

“It’s okay.”

“I’ve been getting calls from the L.A. County Coroner. They said they’ve been calling you. His ashes have not yet been claimed.”

“I don’t want them. I don’t care what they do with them.”

“Leave the matter with me. I’ll see what I can do to make it official.” Tanner took stock of her, her bruises had nearly faded. “How are you doing, really?”

Her chin crumpled but she maintained her composure.

Her voice was strong.

“I’m hanging on. Some days I need to be alone, some days I need to be with people, you know?”

“Yes, I do.”

“I realize that I’ve been very selfish in many ways.”

“What do you mean?”

“When I was a child, I lost my family, and ever since, I wanted to replace that ideal, to have my own family, something to hold on to. I’m sorry if that doesn’t make sense.”

“I understand about losing something and what it does to you.”

“I guess for me, I’ve been searching in all the wrong places for what I wanted. I guess that’s evident.”

Tanner thought for a long moment.

“Well, Claire, sometimes it doesn’t matter what you want. Sometimes it’s a matter of what you need.”

“Excuse me?”

“And right now, we need ice cream. There’s a place a couple of blocks from here. We’d love it if you would join us.”

“Us?”

Tanner nodded to his car where Samantha was waiting inside.

“My daughter, Sam.”

“Hello. You’re pretty,” Sam said, smiling.

Claire blushed.

“Hello there, sweetheart.”

“So,” Tanner said, “want to ride with us?”

“Yes.” She smiled back. “I think I need ice cream, too.”

* * * * *

Acknowledgments amp; Note

The inspiration for Into the Dark was loosely drawn from several real cases. While some readers might venture to guess which ones, I ask that you forgive any inaccuracies in the story. In crafting Into the Dark, I employed creative license, taking liberties with the geography of greater Los Angeles, police jurisdiction, investigative procedure and the field of psychology.

The completion of any book is never ever a solitary effort.

My thanks to Amy Moore-Benson, to Miranda Indrigo, and to the incredible editorial, marketing, sales and PR teams at Harlequin and MIRA Books in Toronto, New York and around the world.

Thanks to Wendy Dudley, who made this story better.

To Teresa Mofina for her editorial help at the eleventh hour.

Very special thanks to Barbara, Laura and Michael.

It’s important you know that in getting this book to you, I benefited from the hard work and generosity of many people, too many to thank individually.

This brings me to what I hold to be the most critical part of the enterprise: you, the reader. This aspect has become something of a creed for me, one that bears repeating with each book.

Thank you very much for your time, for without you, a book remains an untold tale. Thank you for setting your life on pause and taking the journey. I deeply appreciate my growing audience around the world and those who’ve been with me since the beginning and who keep in touch. Thank you all for your very kind words. I hope you enjoyed the ride and will check out my earlier books while watching for my next one. I welcome your feedback. Drop by www.rickmofina.com to subscribe to my newsletter and send me a note.

Rick Mofina

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