Faint Trace Read Online Free PDF Page A

“So do you.”
    I arrived home to find a subdued Lucy curled up on the couch watching TV, feet pulled tight against her body, hands pulled inside the arms of her T-­shirt. She ignored Holly’s good-­bye and I tried to unwind her limbs, releasing her arms and holding her close, but she was having none of it, struggling against me. She fell asleep at 7 p.m., a full hour before her bedtime, and I put her to bed in her clothes, skipping brushing her teeth. Kevin would have made a joke about our family boycotting tooth brushing, but I didn’t think it was funny.
    I dialed my father. It was a little after 10 p.m. on the East Coast, and while he went to bed early, he always answered the phone. After twenty-­five years as the police chief for Hopewell Falls, he took calls at all hours of the day and night.
    Instead of the half-­asleep “Wha?” I expected, I got a chipper hello.
    â€œJune,” he said. “I almost called you earlier. Caught a ­couple of teenagers trying to unbolt a mailbox from the sidewalk. I explained to the two young gentlemen that stealing a mailbox was a federal offense and that I was going to call my daughter the FBI agent . . .”
    I listened to the rest of my father’s story of how he’d scared these kids straight. He described how freaked out they were when he found them, wrenches in hand and with no clear plan on what they would do with a thousand pound mailbox. I didn’t laugh.
    â€œJune,” he said. “What happened?”
    I told him everything: losing the suspect, the trip to the hospital, and Lucy’s retreat into herself.
    â€œI’d do anything to keep her safe and happy, but I’m not sure how to protect her from this,” I said.
    â€œWhen you say ‘this,’ June . . . what are we talking? Illness . . . or—­”
    â€œKevin is going to die.”
    Before, Kevin’s death had been a terrible possibility, one bleak outcome among several hopeful ones. Today the last of those bright options had vanished with just a nosebleed.
    â€œYou want me to come out?” Dad said. “I’ve got about three years of vacation saved up, and this is what it’s for. I didn’t realize it had got so bad. I’ll be on the next plane out—­”
    â€œThat’s one possibility,” I said, saying the words I’d practiced before I’d called, trying to keep my voice even. “But I was thinking . . . I have to talk it over with him . . . but what if we came back there?”
    â€œYou gonna transfer to the Albany field office?” he asked. “I thought they said-­-­”
    â€œThey said no.” I balled my hands into fists, anger taking me by the throat, calming myself with two deep breaths. “There’s a hiring freeze, so no new staff for the rest of the fiscal year. We’d probably have to stay with you for a while until I got a job—­”
    â€œJeez, June. You’re an FBI agent. Seriously, you think you’re going to fail the Hopewell Falls civil servants exam?”
    My father assumed I would stay in law enforcement, and he was right—­I couldn’t envision myself doing anything else. He started talking specifics, including the dates of tests and the best way to get my stuff to the East Coast, but I lost the thread of the conversation. I begged off to call Kevin and head to bed, and my Dad let me go only after promising to talk tomorrow.
    I checked all the locks on the doors and windows and turned out the lights. I peeked in on Lucy once more before walking to my room, shutting the door, slipping into our bathroom, and shutting that door as well. Kevin’s toothbrush sat behind the faucet, and I knew Holly had placed it there instead of Kevin—­he always propped it in the cup. I felt suddenly tired and dizzy and lay down on the floor, the cool tile a relief against my cheek. It was then