In the Bleak Midwinter

He tucked his head in assent. “With some of last year’s Halloween costume stuck to my face. Crude, but effective.”

From below, Clare could hear the flat lapping of the river against its rock-and-snow-covered banks. Would dropping Cody in also qualify as crude, but effective? She glanced at the bundle in Fowler’s arm.

“Oh, he’s alive. The little bastard fell sound asleep in my truck, can you believe it?”

“What is it you’re looking for here, Colonel? What outcome are you after?” She let a note of challenge creep into her voice. “Wesley’s already off the hook for the murders. What do you hope to accomplish out here?”

“I’m trying to save my son from himself. He’s already fumbled badly, getting that girl pregnant in the first place and then not insisting she have an abortion. He was going to walk away from everything, just because she decided at the last minute she didn’t want to give it up. Can you believe that?”

Clare bit her lip. “There’s no chance of that now, though, is there? You took care of that.”

“You mean the girl? I didn’t set out to eliminate her. If she had just taken the money I’d offered—Christ, she could have paid her way through the state school and had a nest egg left over! She was too stupid to do what was best for her.”

“Some people might say she was too principled to trade money for her child.”

“Bullshit. She saw an opportunity to trap a boy from a decent family who could be counted on to earn a good paycheck.” He glared at her. “If Wes had quit school to marry her, if he takes on her—” he glanced at the blankets in his arm, “—kid, he’d regret it for the rest of his life. I’m not going to let that happen.” His face tightened. “Wes is still too soft, yet. It’s up to me to protect him.”

“By killing his son and sending his father to death row? Do you really think that’s going to protect him? That he won’t regret it for the rest of his life?” She stepped toward Fowler, never taking her eyes off him, feeling out the ties through her boots. “Wesley’s ready to sign the boy over to the Burnses. He told me so himself.” She balanced on one leg, bumping her other boot against a wooden tie until she had a foothold. “He’s a good kid. Sensitive, responsible, caring. You can stop this right here without damaging him any further.” She stretched out her arms. “Give me the baby. The other two you . . . eliminated, those were on the spur of the moment, unplanned, right? That’s manslaughter. You can plead to diminished capacity or temporary insanity or . . . or . . . something.”

She kept her arms open. Her chest and throat ached. From a distance, she could hear the sound of a motor. A snowmobile, maybe. She wanted it to be help. She wasn’t up to this. She couldn’t do this all by herself.

You aren’t all by yourself, the thought came, from inside and outside all at once. She breathed in sharply. “Give me the baby, Colonel. Don’t burden the rest of Wesley’s life with the knowledge that he was the reason you did this terrible thing.”

He frowned, pressing his lips together. Considering. Poised between two ties, she held herself absolutely still, arms burning, reaching.

Behind them, the sound of an engine cut through the air. Fowler looked past her. “Ah. Reinforcements,” he said. He hefted the blanket-wrapped parcel higher.

Clare couldn’t look back. She heard thudding doors and the faint squawk of a walkie-talkie. “They don’t change anything,” she said. “This is still your call.”

“Vaughn.” Russ’s voice was measured, temperate. The sound of it was like seeing the landing lights at the end of a long night’s flight. “How ’bout I walk onto this bridge and we all try to resolve this situation?”

Fowler raised his bundle higher. From within the blanket, the baby began to cry, short, sharp squalls demanding attention. “Stay where you are, Chief, or I toss this into the kill.”

“No!” Clare’s hands clutched around empty air. Beneath them, she heard the motor coming closer, a spluttering roar.

“You’re not going to walk away from this, Vaughn. That’s a police boat covering the water. The state troopers will be moving men in on the other side of the kill, and they’re going to be bringing a sharpshooter with them. Give the baby to Clare, and let’s all get out of the cold. Your son is waiting to see you. He’s worried sick about you.”

Fowler shook his head. “I didn’t plan to walk away from this, Chief. I knew when I moved decisively to save my son from dropping out and marrying that trailer trash that I would have to be an acceptable loss.”

“No. Colonel.” Clare moved forward another shaky step. “Think what you’ll be doing to your family.”

“I have. I’m saving them the embarrassment of a trial and incarceration. Don’t you think I considered how this would look? No one understands sacrifice these days. No one appreciates what it is to put your duty to your family or your service first.”