Clara could barely see for the rain, but the wind was the worst. Kyla had turned the autumn leaves, so beautiful on the trees, into small missiles. They whipped around her, plastering against her face. She put an arm up to protect her eyes and leaned into the wind, stumbling over the uneven terrain. The leaves and twigs smacked her raincoat, trying to find her skin. Where the leaves failed the frigid water succeeded. It poured up her sleeves and down her back, into her nose and pelted her eyeballs when she squinted them open. But she was almost there.
‘I was getting worried. I expected you earlier,’ he said, coming over to hug her. Clara stepped back, out of his embrace. He looked at her surprised and hurt. Then he looked down at her boots, puddling water and mud on the floor. She followed his gaze and automatically removed her boots, almost smiling at the normalcy of the action. Maybe she’d been wrong. Maybe she could just take off her boots, sit down, and not say anything. Too late. Her mouth was already working.
‘I’ve been thinking.’ She paused, not sure what to say, or how to say it.
‘I know. I could see it in your face. When did you figure it out?’
So, she thought, he’s not going to deny it. She didn’t know whether to be relieved or horrified.
‘At the party, but I couldn’t get it all. I needed time to think, to work it out.’
‘Was that why you said “she”, when describing the forger?’
‘Yes. I wanted to buy some time, maybe even throw the police off.’
‘It threw me off. I was hoping you meant it. But then at the B. & B. I could see your mind working. I know you too well. What’re we going to do?’
‘I needed to see if you’d really done it. I felt I owed you this, because I love you.’ Clara felt numb, as though she was having an out of body experience.
‘And I love you,’ he said in a voice that struck her as suddenly mincing. Was it always like this? ‘And I need you. You don’t have to tell the police, there’s no evidence. Even the tests tomorrow won’t show anything. I was careful. Once I put my mind to something I’m very good, but you know that.’
She did. And she suspected he was right. The police would have a hard time convicting him.
‘Why?’ she asked, ‘why did you kill Jane? And why did you kill your mother?’