“Coast is clear,” I called to Heath.
But he didn’t reappear. Rowe shot me a worried glance, and wordlessly, we both went inside.
We found Heath in the small living room, staring out the window.
“They’re gone,” I said again, in case he hadn’t heard. I tried to keep my voice peppy and upbeat, like I was talking about an annoying houseguest.
But Heath didn’t smile. “Is this what it’s going to be like now? Even out here in the middle of nowhere, I have to hide every time a helicopter flies over?”
“That doesn’t happen very often,” Rowe offered.
“What about when the mailman comes? What about when you want to invite a friend from work over for dinner? What do I do then? Hide in my bedroom? Leave the house and hide in the woods and watch through the window like a creeper?”
Neither of us had an answer for that.
“And what about going out in public? Am I ever going to do that again? I can’t. Not here. Maybe not anywhere.”
“It’s better than being dead,” I said quietly.
Heath looked up at me with big eyes. “Is it? Or is it just a different sort of dead?”
I didn’t want him to think like that. None of us had thought this through. We’d acted in the heat of the moment, but I refused to consider we might have made the wrong choice. “I wasn’t going to just sit there and watch you die.”
Heath didn’t say anything. He got up to walk away, but Rowe wouldn’t let him.
He blocked him in. “No. Stop it. You’re not walking away. Is this ideal? No, it’s fucking not. But this is temporary.”
Heath seemed like he wanted to argue, and I knew exactly how quickly things between the two of them could blow up.
I stepped between them. “We keep going to work. Rowe, me, and Liam. We cooperate with the police as much as we can.”
Rowe was insistent. “And we find who really murdered Jayela. That’s your ticket to freedom, Heath. We find them someone to take your spot on death row, and everything else gets downgraded to a misdemeanor.”
Heath’s voice was quiet when he finally answered. “We’ve been trying to work out who killed Jayela for months. What makes you think we can do it now?
Rowe pulled his mouth into a tight line and shoved his hands into his pockets. “Because there’s more on the line now than there ever has been. Failure isn’t an option.” He sucked in a sharp breath. “You get caught, you’re right back where we started, only we’re there next to you.”
10
Mae
It took two days for all of us to settle down and stop flinching at every little noise. But when no police showed up, eventually, we all began to relax. And it wasn’t long after that boredom started setting in.
Heath wandered the interior of the cabin for the hundredth time, though it didn’t take him long because there wasn’t much to see. When he returned, he sat uncomfortably in the camping chairs we’d brought in from the shed. His big body really didn’t fit well in them, his legs too long, his shoulders too wide. “Your interior designs skills, suck, Pritchard. Jail cells have more pizazz than your place does. You couldn’t have sprung for a couch?”
Rowe narrowed his eyes at Heath from his perch on an identical chair in the middle of the living room. “Really? I take a beating for you. Spring you from jail. Lie to the cops. And let you crash at my place, but you want to whine about my lack of furniture? How do you spell ungrateful prick again?”
Heath shrugged, the insult not bothering him at all. “Just sayin’, a rug wouldn’t go astray.”
I fought back a laugh. They’d been like this the entire time. They were two grumpy old men, trading barbs with each other, but there was a fondness beneath it that I didn’t miss even if they were pretending it wasn’t there.
Rowe glared at him. “What the fuck would I do with a rug?”
Heath threw his hands up in the air. “I don’t know, perhaps it would give you a place to sit beside these two-dollar Walmart chairs you seem so fond of? Put a coffee table on it so you’ve got somewhere to eat a fucking meal?” He shot a frustrated hand toward the fireplace. “Light a fire in the winter and have somewhere to get our girl naked?”
They both looked over at me, and I flushed hot at the thought of being their girl.
I cleared my throat. “I vote for that last option.”
Rowe smirked at me. “Do you now?” He got up and sauntered over to me. “I got other places to get you naked, Mae. Don’t need a rug for that.”
I swallowed hard. Rowe’s injuries had prevented anything from happening for the last two days, but he was walking better today, his ribs not causing him as much pain, and he’d had no lasting effects from his concussion. Before the trial, I’d put in to have some time off work, expecting to be celebrating Heath’s freedom, and Rowe had been given some sick leave, so neither of us had been back to the prison, but there’d be no avoiding it come Monday.
I really needed to go home and get ready for the week ahead. “As much as I’d like that…I’ve been here for ages. I should get back to my apartment.”
Heath pouted, wrapping his arms around me. “I hate it when you leave.”
I did, too, but I couldn’t stay here all the time. The police hadn’t spoken to me yet. If they sent someone to my house a few times, they’d realize pretty quick that I wasn’t living there. I wanted to be there when they came to question me. I was still surprised I hadn’t even had a phone call from them. All I could assume was that they didn’t think a convicted murderer would run to the sister of the woman he’d supposedly killed.
“You’ve got Rowe to keep you company,” I told Heath.
“He doesn’t smell good like you do.” He nosed his way up my throat, and I couldn’t resist the urge to tilt my head to give him better access.