A Darkness Absolute (Casey Duncan #2)

“Fuck,” Dalton says.

“My sentiments exactly. We’re going to need to start padlocking that thing, because apparently people have figured out it’s the one place they can run that we can’t get to them without coming through the front door. Of course, that’s also the only way they can exit unless they manage to burrow through permafrost.”

“So he’s safely contained,” I say.

“Yep. He’s taking a second page from Nicki’s playbook. He’s threatening to kill himself if we don’t do what he wants, which in this case is to let him leave Rockton. He’s just waiting for you two, making sure his goose is cooked.”

“How’d he figure it out?” I ask.

“It wasn’t me.”

“I never said—”

“Hey, considering you thought I let him run while I sat on my thumbs…”

I bump his arm. “I apologize, okay? Momentary panic. I’ll buy you roses next time I’m in Dawson City.”

“Buy me a steak—a real steak—and we’re even. As for how Shawn found out…”

He trails off. We’ve just reached the edge of town. There’s a figure up ahead, seemingly just milling about.

“Hey, Jen!” Anders calls. “Casey’s wondering who tipped off Sutherland. You got any insight into that?”

She turns, and in the moonlight, I see her scowl. “You couldn’t even let them get into town before calling me out, could you?”

“Uh, no. We couldn’t even get into town without finding you skulking around the path, waiting to confess. You gonna do it? Or am I?”

She doesn’t respond.

“Guess I am,” Anders says. “She’s only waiting on her escort to the cell. Saves the bother of getting dragged out of bed for it. So, yesterday, Jen tells you that you’ve missed the obvious suspect. You told her the time line doesn’t work—which it didn’t. But if she believed that, she wouldn’t get the chance to tell the town how incompetent you are.”

“Fuck,” Dalton says. “Seriously, Jen?”

I expect her to crow that she did find the killer. But she only stands there, jaw set, her gaze down as she says, “I didn’t tell the town. I … had a couple of drinks and told a few people.”

“Who informed her that the fact Shawn wasn’t even in the Yukon until last year provided him with an ironclad alibi,” Anders says. “Unfortunately Shawn himself got wind of it, from someone who thought it was hilarious.”

“I’m sorry,” Jen says.

Dalton and I both stare at her.

She squares her shoulders. “I fucked up. I’ll just go let myself into the cell. You guys need to handle this.”

I think she’s joking. Or being sarcastic. She just turns and starts toward the station. After a moment of silence, Dalton calls after her, “Get your ass back here and follow us. We need all hands on deck, in case he finds a way to bolt.”

We continue on, and she falls in behind us. She straggles out of earshot, and Anders says, “It wasn’t entirely her fault. Jen’s wild accusations just got Shawn asking questions. He wondered where you two had gone, and someone said you were following up on something Roger said before he died. Someone else told Shawn you guys had been talking to Val last night. It was enough for him to decide to vamoose, leading to…”

He gestures at the icehouse, just ahead, where Kenny and two others are on guard. Dalton orders them back, and we move up to the door.

“Shawn?” I call. “It’s Casey. Will says there’s a problem.”

Ten seconds of silence. Then, Sutherland says, “I know you think I killed those women. And I know how that works up here. I remember Doctor Lowry. No judge. No jury. No trial. Sheriff Dalton put her on a plane, and we’re all supposed to think he took her back to Dawson City. No one actually believes that. Just like no one believes she was guilty.”

“If anyone honestly thinks Beth was innocent,” Dalton says, “we need to have a town meeting. She confessed. In front of a half dozen people.”

“Your people. You, your detective, your deputy, Val, Isabel—”

“Beth confessed. I took her to Dawson City. Put her on a plane. Your conspiracy theory is just a last-ditch, piss-poor effort to save your ass.”

“Eric’s right, Benjamin,” I say.

Silence.

“Yes, I know that’s your real name. Benjamin Sanders Junior. Son of Mary Parsons and Benjamin Sanders Senior. We spoke to your mother.”

“I don’t know what—”

“You were born in the First Settlement. Your mother didn’t want to leave Rockton, but your father talked her into it. Then, twenty years ago, he met a hiker. He helped her out of a jam and fell in love. Went back down south with her, leaving you and your mother behind.”

“You’ve got me confused—”

“I do feel bad for your mother, Benjamin. Betrayed and abandoned. But I feel worse for the kid who had to bear the brunt of that. Who grew up with a mother whose bitterness drove her mad, obsessed with the so-called ‘whore’ who seduced her husband. I got the full tirade. The list of things that make a whore, which apparently corresponds to the things she remembers about your father’s mistress. I know you got that list. Over and over, you got it.”

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