of the car, just sat there. Didn’t think
nothing of it, but then a Ford Explorer drives up. Guy with a big beard’s driving
it. Hal gets out of his truck and goes over to the driver’s window.”
Stan glanced at Jake, who listened just as intently. She raised her eyebrow. He shrugged
as if to say, I don’t know who she’s talking about.
“Could you hear what they were saying?” Pasquale asked.
Kathryn shook her head. “No, ma’am. It’s gettin’ chilly this time of year, so I had
the screens off the door. Besides, they were a ways away. But Hal didn’t look happy.
I did hear some yelling when someone opened the door, but I had to go back in the
kitchen and oversee Mr. Hallihan’s eggs. He gets cranky if the yolks are overcooked.”
Stan could see Pasquale tense with impatience at the long-winded story, but she kept
her voice even. “Then what?”
Kathryn shrugged. “Then nothing. Next time I looked out, they were both gone.”
Pasquale motioned to Kathryn to come with her, and they walked over to Em. The three
of them moved into a circle and Stan couldn’t hear anymore.
Who would fight with Hal in a public place? She turned to Jake, but he’d moved away
to talk quietly to Danny Hoffman, who had insisted on staying outside with his mother
even when Em’s sister had arrived and tried to usher him inside. Stan couldn’t tell
if the boy was responding to Jake or not—his face was sullen and he stared straight
ahead, but every now and then he swiped angrily at his eyes with the sleeve of his
sweatshirt.
Stan scanned the yard to see who was left. The crowd started to thin as Trooper Lou
and the other two cops released people. The poor guys had their work cut out for them,
taking down names and trying to make sure any potential witnesses hadn’t left the
premises before they did so. Stan would hate to see what Pasquale would do if they
screwed something up.
“I’m going to send a car over there right now to question him.” Pasquale’s voice floated
by as she walked away from Em and Kathryn. Stan inched closer to hear what she said
when she pulled out her radio. Something about dispatching officers for questioning.
She caught the name “Fink” and the town Woods Hole.
Abruptly, Pasquale turned, her eyes landing on Stan. Stan averted her eyes, pretending
she hadn’t been listening.
“Lou,” Pasquale said, pocketing her radio, “I’m taking these folks inside.”
Maybe now was a good time to leave. Stan tried to catch Jake’s attention, but didn’t
succeed. Before she could decide, Pasquale reached over and laid a hand on her shoulder.
“You’re joining us, right, Ms. Connor?”
Stan bit back a sigh. “I’d be happy to.”
Chapter 4
Stan didn’t think she’d ever been so tired—or chilled—in her life. Even though the
troopers had moved operations into Emmalee’s living room, warmth eluded her. She had
been outside for a long time, since seven when she’d arrived with Brenna, and it was
now nearly two in the morning. Still, she was sure the chill of the fall night wasn’t
the only culprit. Just the thought of Hal Hoffman’s lifeless body, weapon still protruding
from his chest, lying half submerged in a puddle was enough to make her shiver despite
the mug of hot apple cider she held. The sweet liquid, prepared to serve to people
coming out of the maze, tasted slightly burned after being forgotten in the Crock-Pot
for too long.
Hal’s body had finally been removed. Pasquale had moved them inside so that job could
be done without the family watching. Stan had seen the slow, somber ambulance lights
as the vehicle pulled away from the farm. She wondered, randomly, how the cows were
handling all the excitement, or if they’d even noticed.
There were only a few people left at this point. Pasquale and Emmalee had disappeared
into the study to talk. Brenna sat on the cozy armchair, her legs curled up under
Mina Carter, J.William Mitchell