her. She played with her hair, viciously twirling a lock tight around her finger,
letting it go, twirling it again. She’d stayed inside with the youngest Hoffman boy
after the news had reached her, trying to shield him for as long as possible against
his family’s grief. Emmalee’s sister, Francine, sat on the love seat. Clearly a nervous
Nellie, she hadn’t stopped fidgeting the entire time. Her leg jiggled nonstop and
she picked at her fingernail until Stan wanted to get up and rip the fingernail out.
From her seat on the floor with Jake beside her, Stan watched Francine until she thought
she would scream. She tried to concentrate on Duncan, sprawled across their feet.
Despite not actually being on the farm when Hal’s body was found, Jake had remained
with them after everyone else had dispersed. Em had seemed comforted by his presence,
and he’d been a godsend for Danny. The boy had been trying to be strong for his mom
but deal with his own teenage grief at the same time. Watching Jake with him, just
offering support, had melted Stan’s heart. Not that she’d ever admit it.
Emmalee and Hal’s oldest son, Tyler, who had returned from college a few towns away,
sat on the couch. A soft-spoken, gentle boy, he’d finally gotten his little brother,
Joseph, to sleep. Danny had resisted going to bed, but he was curled up on the other
side of the couch now, dozing restlessly. Samson had curled up near him, his paws
on his young master’s leg. There was still one Hoffman son who had not been told.
Ten-year-old Robert was at a sleepover at a friend’s. Neither Emmalee nor Tyler had
the heart, or the strength, to go get him right now. They’d made the decision together
with no words, a moment Stan had witnessed and been touched by. In just a matter of
minutes, the student had realized and accepted his new role as man of the house. She
wondered what that would mean to his studies and the life he’d just started to get
used to away from home.
Tyler jiggled his knee, emitting sighs of frustration every few minutes. He clenched
his hands into fists and slammed them into his knees. “What are they doing in there?”
he burst out. “Can I go in and get them? I don’t want her bothering my mom.”
Trooper Pasquale and Emmalee had been locked in Emmalee’s study for the past hour
and a half. Stan understood the boy’s frustration. Having been on the receiving end
of a Pasquale interrogation in the past, she knew what Em must be feeling, listening
to the relentless questions and trying to formulate coherent answers that would satisfy
her.
“I wouldn’t do that, Tyler,” Stan said. “Trooper Pasquale is just trying to understand
what happened here tonight.”
“My father’s dead,” Tyler said, his voice flat. “And she needs to find out how it
happened, not stress my mother out.”
As if Pasquale had heard, the office door opened with a snap. All eyes in the room
followed it. Emmalee emerged first, clearly doing her best to hold it together, but
she looked exhausted and unfocused. Trooper Pasquale followed, her face still grim
but showing no signs of fatigue. Instead, her perfect skin glowed with the excitement
of the chase in front of her. She observed the people still in the room.
Tyler ignored her and jumped up to put an arm around his mother. “Are you okay, Mom?”
he asked.
Emmalee focused on him and smiled wanly. “Fine, honey. Why don’t you and Danny go
up to bed? It’s so late.” Em raised her wrist to check her watch but there was nothing
there. Her voice trailed off as she glanced around the room, maybe looking for a clock,
or just something steady to focus on. Brenna got up and hugged her. When Em pulled
away, she had tears in her eyes.
“You’re all so sweet to stay,” Em said, motioning to Jake and Stan, too.
“Of course we stayed,” Brenna said. “I can stay over if you want.”
“I would love that,”