Brian Freeman - The Bone House

'Not everyone loves the suburbs,' Hilary replied.

'Were you running away from something?'

'Yes, we were. Smog. Crowds. Traffic. Concrete. Sameness.'

Cab took off his sunglasses and dangled them on his fingers. His eyes were irresistibly blue. 'I did my homework on you, Mrs Bradley.

People in the Chicago schools told me you were one of the best teachers they'd ever had. They hated to lose you.'

'So?'

'So I wonder why you'd give it up to work in a small school in the middle of nowhere.'

'I love teaching. It doesn't matter whether the school is big or small.' She added, 'Mark loved it too, until he got crucified.'

'That must be hard, going to work every morning, knowing people think your husband cheated on you with a student.'

'I don't need your sympathy, Detective.'

'I'm still curious about why the two of you moved out here. Did Mark have a problem with girls in the Chicago schools? You may as well tell me. I'll find out anyway.'

'There's nothing to find,' Hilary snapped. She was tired of having her motives questioned by people who didn't understand them. Cab Bolton wasn't the first, and he wouldn't be the last. Her family. Her colleagues. Her neighbors. They were all the same. They looked at her and Mark and wanted a vote in how they chose to lead their lives.

'You know what my mother said to me, Detective?' she went on. 'When I told her that Mark and I were moving to Door County? She asked me how I could be such an independent woman for so many years and then give up everything in my life for a man.'

'What did you say?' Cab asked.

'I told her the truth. I wasn't giving up anything at all. Mark and I were making a choice about what we wanted. That's it. That's the big secret. I don't care if you understand it.'

'The two of you were just crazy in love,' Cab said, and she heard cynicism in his voice.

'Spare me the sarcasm, Detective. I'm not in the mood to play games with you.'

'I'm not trying to play games. I like you, Mrs Bradley. Really. I think you're smart, and I respect that you're ferociously protective of your husband.'

'But you think I'm a fool.'

'I think people aren't always who we think they are,' Cab told her. 'While you're protecting your husband, you might start protecting yourself, too.'

'If you're trying to make me doubt Mark, you can stop.'

'I think you have doubts, but you won't admit them to yourself.'

'Then you don't understand what it means to have faith in someone,' Hilary said.

'You're right. I don't.'

'If that's true, I feel sorry for you.'

'Don't worry about me.' Cab shoved his hands in his pockets and shrugged his body against the cold. 'Look, let's assume your husband told you he was out on the beach with Glory. I'm not asking you to say yes or no, but if he was there with her, there's a good chance he killed her. You're smart enough to realize that. Maybe he didn't mean to do it. Maybe things got out of control. It doesn't matter.'

'I can see I'm wasting my breath,' Hilary said. 'You're like everyone else around here, assuming Mark is guilty. You've appointed yourself judge and jury.'

'I don't assume he's guilty, but I don't assume he's innocent, either.'

'Good night, Detective.' Hilary pointed at the boat, where one of the deck workers waved to attract Cab's attention. 'You don't want to miss your ferry. I'd hate to think of you trapped overnight in a barren place like this.'

Cab smiled and slid his car keys from his pocket. 'I talked to Sheriff Reich. He's not a fan of your husband.'

'I'm not a fan of the sheriff, either,' Hilary replied. 'He hasn't lifted a finger to stop the locals harassing us.'

'He says Delia Fischer was right. Your husband was having sex with Tresa.'

'Tresa was a sweet, misguided kid. That's all there was.'

'Men are awfully easy to seduce,' Cab reminded her. 'Women usually find a way to get what they want.'

Hilary was good at reading people, and she thought she could see past the armor in the detective's blue eyes. His cynicism wasn't just professional. 'Is this about me or you, Detective?'

'Excuse me?'

'It sounds like there was a woman who messed with you. You loved her, and she hurt you.'

Cab's face darkened. 'Now who's playing games?'

'I'm sorry,' Hilary said, 'but don't take out your past on me and Mark.'

'I'm not doing that.'

'No?'

'No. I already told you I'm not assuming your husband is guilty. If the evidence points to someone else, so be it.'

'If that's true, then tell me something. Did Sheriff Reich mention Glory and the fire?'

'What fire?'

'Glory lived next door to a man who burned down his house with his family in it,' Hilary told him. 'She was there when it happened. She almost died.'

Cab's mouth puckered into a frown. 'I didn't know that.'

'Neither did I until today. Don't you find that interesting? This girl was a witness to a murder six years ago, and now she gets murdered herself. That's a big coincidence.'

She watched Cab working through the implications of this information in his mind. Weighing its significance. Deciding if she was blowing smoke at him.

'Why do you think there's a connection?' he asked. 'I'm not sure how a six-year-old crime, even a horrific one, has any relevance to what happened to Glory in Florida.'

'Only that the killer escaped,' Hilary said. 'He's still on the run.'

'The man who started the fire is at large? Is that true?'

'It's true. His name was Harris Bone. Look it up.' Hilary returned to her Camry and stood outside the driver's door. She was pleased with herself. Looking at Cab Bolton and studying his face, she decided that the man might never be an ally, but he might not be an enemy, either.

'If you can get past your obsession with my husband,' she called to him, 'you should ask yourself the question that I've been asking myself all day, Detective. What if Harris Bone was in Florida? Think about that. What if Glory recognized him? What do you think he would do to her?'

Night fell on the island two hours later. Without daylight, the temperature dropped like a stone, dipping below the freezing mark. Gusts off the bay blasted the land and made the dark trees sway. No one came or went through the canyon-like waves of Death's Door. The ferries were done until early morning, and the private boats that traversed the passage stayed in the shelter of the harbors. The stone outpost of Washington Island was cut off from civilization, isolated and empty.

He drove without headlights. At night, under low clouds, he could barely pick out the headstones of the island cemetery laid in granite rows beside the road. Where the cemetery ended, the road disappeared into the forest, and he slowed to a crawl. The tires of the stolen pickup crept over the gravel as if it was sandpaper. Ahead of him, he spotted the pale break in the trees where the road stopped at Schoolhouse Beach. He turned right on a crossroad less than a hundred yards from the water and navigated blindly round the curves that hugged the shore. He knew where Mark Bradley lived. It wasn't far. When he was a quarter-mile away, he saw house lights glowing out of the black forest like torches. He stopped.

He parked in the driveway of a home that was empty for the winter season. He got out, taking a heavy crowbar with him, nestled in his gloved hand. On the road, he was invisible as he hiked toward the lights. He stayed close to the shoulder, where the birch trees leaned over the gravel and waggled their fingers at him. The wind covered the crunching noise of his boots. Near the house, he veered into the woods, worming his way through spindly branches and mushy ground, until he was barely twenty yards from their windows.

He could see the Bradleys. They were both inside.

Mark Bradley stood by the glass, staring into the darkness directly at him. If it had been daytime, he would have felt exposed, but he knew the window was nothing but a mirror of reflections now. Behind Mark Bradley, he saw the man's wife, holding a near-empty glass of red wine. Hilary Bradley was still dressed for work in a shimmery silver blouse and black slacks that emphasized her long legs. She came up behind her husband and whispered in his ear, but he didn't react.