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  “Jesus had nothing to do with any of this,” Sharon barked at him. “Because I prayed to every god in the universe to stop all of this with them and no one was listening. So I had to do it myself.”

  “You ran him down,” I said. “You got in the car, knew where he'd be riding, and you ran him down.”

  “I didn't get in the car with that intent,” she said, her words slowing, carefully coming out of her mouth. “I wanted to find him and tell him exactly what I thought of him, and tell him to never step foot in our home again. After holding my tongue for so long, I could finally tell him what I thought of him because I knew I was right.” She paused. “I was driving to his home because I wanted his parents to hear it, too. And then I saw him on the bike trail.”

  Olivia was crying.

  Bill was still slack-jawed.

  “I didn't think twice,” Sharon said. “I just veered right into the lane and hit him. I couldn't help myself. My anger and fury toward him was like nothing I'd ever experienced.” Her entire face quivered. “He ruined my daughter's life and I wanted him out of it.”

  “And you left him there,” I said. “You left him for dead. He might've been alive, even after you'd hit him.”

  She blinked once. “Maybe. But I just turned back onto the road and came home. There was relief knowing he wouldn't be coming back. No more foolish talk from him. Olivia wouldn't be set up for failure with him. Her father and I could take care of both her and the baby without his interference.” She shook her head. “It was over.”

  A clock ticked somewhere in the room. I needed to get the gun out of her hands. If she'd killed Desmond out of desperation, she was capable of doing it again.

  And now I was her target.

  “The car,” Bill said.

  “Yes, with the car,” his wife said, frowning. “How else would I have hit him?”

  “No,” he said, glancing at me, then back at her. “That's why you wanted me to get the new car the next day. To trade in the old one.”

  Sharon's lips puckered.

  “You told me your dad wouldn't let you drive the new car,” I said to Olivia. “The first time I wanted to meet with you. You said that's why you wanted me to come here. You told me that on the phone and then here in the living room.”

  She was crying and looked at her dad.

  “We'd been talking about replacing it, but all of a sudden, you were adamant about doing it,” he said. “But you've always hated car buying. Always. And you don't care about the cars. That was my thing. All of a sudden, though, you needed a new car and wanted to get rid of yours.” He paused. “You wanted to get rid of the evidence.”

  “And it worked,” she said. “Or, at least, it was working.” She glared at me. “Until you stuck your nose in our business.” She shook her head and centered the gun on my chest. “I am taking care of my daughter. And no one is stopping me. No one.”

  THIRTY FIVE

  “I hate you,” Olivia growled.

  For the first time, Sharon Cousins seemed rattled. “No. No, you don't. You'll realize this is for the best.”

  Olivia stood from the couch. “I hate you and I'll never stop hating you. How could you?”

  I was trying to get Bill to look at me. I wanted him to know this was escalating in a bad way and we needed to disarm his wife. But he was fixated on his daughter, unable to move.

  “It's not your fault that you don't know what's in your own best interest,” Sharon said. “You're young. You have your entire life ahead of you and now you're free of the biggest mistake you ever made.”

  “I wish it had been you,” Olivia said. “I wish you died on that road.”

  Sharon's hands were shaking just a bit now, her arms most likely tired from holding the gun on me for so long. “You don't mean that.”

  “I do mean that,” Olivia said. “And I'm going to kill you myself.”

  Olivia darted across the room at her mother. Sharon pivoted in her direction and I leapt at her. It took me two steps to get to her and I tackled her, my right arm cutting down hard across her arms to knock the gun down. Olivia hit the both of us, letting out a feral scream. The sound of the gunshot exploded in my ears, replaced quickly by a heavy ringing as we tumbled to the ground.

  I scrambled to find Sharon's wrists and locked my own hands onto them. The gun was already on the ground, though, and I grabbed it and flung it behind me. Sharon wasn't fighting back, but Olivia was screaming at her mother, her words incomprehensible, her hands swinging wildly. I grabbed one of her arms, worked myself to my knees, and pulled Olivia off of her mother.

  Olivia screamed and tumbled backward, and that's when I saw the blood seeping out of a wound on her thigh.

  Sharon had shot her daughter by mistake.

  Olivia's hands clutched at her leg, her hands going red as the blood soaked her fingers.

  “Call 9-1-1!” I yelled at Bill.

  He hesitated, then yanked his phone from his pocket.

  “Olivia?” Sharon said, sitting up, her eyes wild. “Olivia? Are you alright?”

  Olivia moaned, holding onto her thigh.

  “Oh my god,” Sharon said. “Oh my god. No. Olivia!”

  I heard Bill talking quickly on the phone, his words tumbling out as he gave the address.

  “No,” Sharon shrieked. “No. I'm so sorry. So sorry.”

  The wound was to the outside of Olivia's leg, and it didn't look like the bullet had hit anything significant. Olivia's eyes were glassy, but she was breathing okay.

  “They're coming,” Bill Cousins said. “They're on their way.”

  “Get a towel,” I said to him. “She'll be okay.”

  “No,” Sharon whispered. “No. No. How did this happen?”

  I assumed the police would be asking that same question very soon.

  THIRTY SIX

  “I wish I had a different story for you,” I said. “I'm so sorry.”

  I was sitting in Tom and Alice Locker's living room the next day. I'd called them the evening before, after I'd gotten home and finished two beers, giving them the rough outline of what I'd learned about Sharon Cousins. They'd invited me over to explain the details and, while I wasn't sure that was the best idea, I agreed to meet with them.

  “I think we do, too,” Alice said quietly, her eyes rimmed with tears.

  “She really did it?” Tom asked.

  I nodded. “Yes. She admitted to the details. And I was there when she gave her statement to the police at the house. She told them everything.”

  The paramedics and the police had arrived within minutes of Bill Cousins's phone call. I gave the police the basics as the paramedics tended to Olivia. She was okay, but in shock. The police took Sharon Cousins into custody shortly after Olivia, Bill, and the baby rode away in the ambulance.

  Tom Locker shook his head. “I just can't believe it. It seems unfathomable.”

  “There's another piece that you're going to hear about,” I said. “And it's going to be hard to hear.”

  They both looked at me.

  I'd held back on the details of their son's affair with Christine Gonzowski because it was going to be hard enough to hear that Sharon Cousins had killed their son. But I also didn't want them to be unprepared for what was inevitably going to happen. It would get played up in the media and there would be no hiding from it. The Lockers didn't deserve that, but it was coming their way and I didn't want them to be blindsided once again.

  I explained to them what I'd learned from Gonzowksi and from Olivia. I told them about my conversations with Desmond's teacher and what she claimed were the details of their relationship. I told them about the argument between Olivia and their son. Ever stoic, they sat close together, listening closely, digesting every word I gave them.

  Tom Locker exhaled when I finished. “I...I don't know what to say.”

  “You don’t have to say anything to me,” I told him. “You don't have to say anything to anyone. But my guess is that this story will eventually reach the media and
you'll get some phone calls. But you don't have to speak to anyone. My advice would be not to. Don't answer your phones, and if someone shows up at your door, tell them you aren't interested in talking to them.”

  Tom nodded slowly. “Yes. I...yes. Alright.”

  “We still didn't know him,” Alice said quietly.

  I looked at her.

  “We still didn't know Des,” she said. “He was still keeping secrets from us. And he was still...doing things he shouldn't have been doing.” She winced. “Still.”

  Her husband put his arm around her. “We tried.”

  “But it wasn't enough,” she said, shaking her head, staring at her lap. Her shoulders sagged, defeat pushing down on her. “We failed him.”

  I wanted to tell her that we all fail our children in different ways, but that they still have the freedom to make their own choices. They'd stuck with their son for a lot longer than others might've, refusing to give up. She didn't need words from a stranger, but I hoped that in time, she'd be able to see that they'd done the best they could for Desmond.

  I stood and Tom walked with me to the front door. He stepped out front with me, glancing behind him to make sure the door was closed behind us.

  “Thank you,” he said. “We appreciate all of the work you've done for us.”

  “I'm sorry it wasn't different. Truly sorry.”

  “Me, too,” he said, shoving his hands in the pocket of his shorts. “I don't know what we'll do now. I'm not sure what the right thing to do is now.”

  “There is no right thing,” I told him. “You just need to do what's best for you.”

  “I don't think I have any interest in being party to whatever happens to Sharon,” he said, his voice cracking. “It won't bring Des back.”

  “You don't have to be,” I said. “You don't owe anything to anyone. You just need to take care of yourself and your wife.”

  He nodded, staring at the ground. “I...I wanted it to be like it was for you.”

  “I'm sorry?”

  He gave me a very tired smile. “I had this vision that you would find him, like you found your own daughter. I thought you'd be able to bring him home to us and everything would be good. I just hoped that would be our ending.”

  I nodded. I understood. It was what everyone hoped for when someone went missing.

  It just wasn't always that way.

  THIRTY SEVEN

  “Do I throw my cap?” Elizabeth asked. “If I throw it, won't I lose it?”

  It was graduation day and she was standing in front of the mirror in my bedroom, dressed in her cap and gown, fussing to get the cap just right on her head.

  “Just grab someone else's,” I said, standing behind her and adjusting the knot in my tie. “I think that's what I did.”

  “Good plan.” She took a deep breath and turned to me. “Okay. This look alright?”

  I took a step back and something in my chest caught. She looked so old, so adult, so accomplished.

  “Yes,” I told her. “Perfect.”

  She wrinkled her nose and turned back to the mirror. “My hair is all jacked up.”

  “It'll be fine.”

  “Says the guy who doesn't know what it's like to manage long hair.”

  I smiled and walked past her, out to the kitchen. My dress shoes clacked against the wooden floor. I couldn't recall the last time I'd gotten dressed up. I felt stiff and uncomfortable in dress clothes.

  “Hey,” Elizabeth asked, following me out to the kitchen. “You didn't end up inviting her, did you?”

  “Inviting who?”

  She made a face like she couldn't believe I didn't know who I meant. “Your new girlfriend.”

  “She's not my girlfriend. We've been on two dates.”

  “You're practically engaged.”

  “Stop.”

  She laughed, enjoying the fact that she could get a rise out of me. “I just didn’t know. I told you it was okay if you wanted to invite her. Because then I'd finally get to meet her.”

  Sutton and I had gone on a second date, a week after the shooting. We'd gone to a Padres game. She bought the tickets and I bought the beer and peanuts. We didn't talk much shop. We had a good time and I kissed her goodnight. I still wasn't sure how I felt about all of it, but it didn't feel entirely wrong. I was taking my time, and I wasn't in a hurry.

  “I didn't think today would be the day you should meet her,” I said. “If it keeps going, then soon. I'll need your approval anyway.”

  “You don't need my approval.”

  It was my turn to use the disbelieving look.

  “Okay, maybe you need my approval a little,” she said. She ran her hands down her gown and straightened the cap. “You're sure I look okay?”

  “Positive,” I said, smiling. “You look amazing.” I paused. “I'm sad that your mom can't see you.”

  She pursed her lips and nodded. “Me, too. Sucks.”

  I laughed in only a way she and I understood. “Really fucking sucks. But she'd be incredibly proud of you.”

  “I hope so,” Elizabeth said.

  “Trust me,” I told her. “She'd be bursting today. Probably wearing you out.”

  We both laughed and we both had tears in our eyes.

  I walked over and hugged her. “Can't believe you're graduating. You're an adult now.”

  “I think I've been an adult for a while,” she said, hugging me back. “Thank you, Dad.”

  “For?”

  “For everything,” she said, squeezing me. “For...everything.”

  Everything. It was a loaded word. But I thought I knew what she meant.

  “Thank you,” I said. “For everything.”

  We stood there for a long moment, hugging there in the kitchen.

  I thought about Tom and Alice Locker and how they wouldn't have this kind of moment again with their son. It made me sad for them. I wished I could have given them what they wanted.

  So I didn't want to take for granted what I had.

  I had the ability to share those moments and I didn't want to take a single one for granted.

  I gently pulled away from my daughter and wiped at my eyes. “Okay. Enough of the tears.”

  She brushed carefully at her own eyes, not wanting to smudge her makeup. “Seriously.”

  I took a deep breath and exhaled. “You ready?”

  She looked around, then shrugged. “Yeah, I guess.”

  I grabbed my keys and wallet off the table and followed her out the front door. I locked it behind me, then turned around.

  She was standing on the lawn, almost exactly where she'd been taken from us.

  But she was there now, in her cap and gown. She was an adult, and she was okay.

  Once again, I wished Tom and Alice Locker had that kind of moment to look forward to in their life.

  Because I was incredibly grateful that I was getting mine.

  THE END

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  Table of Contents

  Thread of Truth

  Copyright Page

  Books by Jeff Shelby

  ONE

  TWO

  THREE

  FOUR

  FIVE

  SIX

  SEVEN

  EIGHT

  NINE

  TEN

  ELEVEN

  TWELVE

  THIRTEEN

  FOURTEEN

  FIFTEEN

  SIXTEEN

  SEVENTEEN

  EIGHTEEN

  NINETEEN

  TWENTY

  TWENTY ONE

  TWENTY TWO

  TWENTY THREE

  TWENTY FOUR

  TWENTY FIVE

  TWENTY SIX

  TWENTY SEVEN

  TWENTY EIGHT

&n
bsp; TWENTY NINE

  THIRTY

  THIRTY ONE

  THIRTY TWO

  THIRTY THREE

  THIRTY FOUR

  THIRTY FIVE

  THIRTY SIX

  THIRTY SEVEN

  THE END