“I want to hear your side.”

“I told you my side!”

“You say you drove around the lake. You also drove out to Slocum Road, didn’t you? Did you realize you’d hit her? Did you ever think to get out and just take a goddamn look?”

“Stop it,” said Claire.

“I have to know!”

“I won’t have a cop interrogating my son without legal counsel!”

“I’m not asking this as a cop.”

“You are a cop! And there’ll be no more questions!” She stood behind her son, her hands on Noah’s shoulders as she gazed straight at Lincoln. “He has nothing more to say to you.”

“He’ll have to come up with answers eventually, Claire. The state police will be asking him all these questions and more.”

“Noah won’t be talking to them either. Not without an attorney”

“Claire,” he said, anguish spilling into his voice. “She was my wife. I need to know.”

“Are you placing my son under arrest?”

“It’s not my decision-”

Claire’s hands tightened on Noah’s shoulders. “If you’re not arresting him, and you have no search warrant, then I want you to leave my house. I want you and Officer Spear off my property.”

“There’s physical evidence. If Noah would just come clean with me and admit-”

“What physical evidence?”

“Blood. On your pickup truck.”

She stared at him, the shock like a vise crushing her chest.

“Your truck was driven recently. The blood on the front fender-”

“You had no right,” she said. “You had no search warrant.”

“I didn’t need one.”

The meaning of his words was instantly clear to her. He was my guest last night.

I gave him implied permission to be here. To search my property I allowed him in my house as a lover, and he’s turned against me.

She said, “I want you to leave.”

“Claire, please-”

“Get out of my house!”

Slowly Lincoln rose to his feet. There was no anger in his expression, just profound sadness. “They’ll be coming to talk to him,” he said.

“I suggest you call an attorney soon. I don’t know how likely it is you’ll find one on a Sunday morning He looked down at the table, then back up at her. “I’m sorry. If there was any way I could change things-any way I could make this turn out right…”

“I have my son to think of,” she said. “Right now he has to be my only concern.”

Lincoln turned to Noah. “If you did anything wrong, it will come out. And you’ll be punished. I won’t have any sympathy for you, not one bit. I’m just sorry it’s going to break your mother’s heart?’

The men were not leaving. Claire stood in the front parlor, gazing out the window at Lincoln and Floyd, who lingered at the end of her driveway. They are not going to leave us unguarded, she thought. They’re afraid Noah will slip away Lincoln turned to look at the house, and Claire stepped back from the window, not wanting him to see her, not allowing even the briefest eye contact. There could be nothing between them now. Doreen’s death had changed everything.

She went back into the kitchen where Noah sat, and sank into the chair across from him. “Tell me what happened, Noah. Tell me everything.”

“I did tell you.”

“You took the pickup outlast night. Why?”

He shrugged.

“Have you done this before?”

“No “The truth, Noah.”

His gaze shot up, dark with anger. “You’re calling me a liar. Just like he did.”

“I’m trying to get a straight answer out of you.”

“I gave you a straight answer, and you don’t believe me! Okay, fine, believe what you want. I take the truck out every night for a joyride. Rack up thousands of miles-haven’t you noticed? But why would you? You’re never home for me anyway!”

Claire was stunned by the rage in his voice. Is that really how he sees me? she wondered. The mother who’s never here, never home for her only child? She swallowed the hurt, forcing herself to focus on the events of last night.

“All right, I’ll accept your word that it was the only time you took out the truck. You still haven’t told me why you did.”

Noah’s gaze dropped to the table, a clear indication he was being evasive. “I felt like it.”

“You drove to the boat ramp and just parked there?”

“Yeah.”

“Did you see Doreen Kelly?”

“I don’t even know what she looks like!”

“Did you see anyone?”

A pause. “I didn’t see any lady named Doreen. Stupid name.”

“She was not just a name. She was a person, and she’s dead. If you know anything at all-”

“I don’t.”

“Lincoln seems to think you do.”

Again that angry gaze slanted up at her. “And you believe him, don’t you?” He shoved the chair back and stood up.

“Sit down.”

“You don’t want me around. You want Mr. Cop instead.” She saw the flash of tears in his eyes as he turned for the kitchen door.

“Where are you going?”

“What difference does it make?” He walked out, slamming the door behind him.

She stepped outside and saw that he was already stumbling away into the woods.

He had no jacket, only those tattered jeans and a longsleeved cotton shirt, but he didn’t seem to care about the cold. His anger and hurt were driving him recklessly forward through the snow.

“Noah!” she yelled.

Now he had reached the lake’s edge and he veered left, following its curve, crossing into the woods of the neighboring property.

“Noah!” She plunged into the snow after him. He was already far ahead and with each angry stride he increased the distance between them. He’s not coming back.

She began to run, shouting his name.

Now two figures, off to her left, caught her eye. Lincoln and Floyd had heard her voice and were in pursuit as well. They had nearly caught up when Noah glanced back and saw them.

He began to run, toward the lake.

Claire cried out: “Don’t hurt him!”

Floyd grabbed him just as they both reached the edge of the ice and he hauled him backwards. They both tumbled into deep snow. Noah scrambled back to his feet first and he flew at Floyd, fists swinging, his rage out of control. He thrashed, howling, as Lincoln grabbed him from behind and wrestled him to the ground.

Floyd scrambled back to his feet and drew his weapon.

“No!” screamed Claire, and terror sent her churning through the snow. She reached her son just as Lincoln cuffed the boy’s hands behind his back. “Don’t fight them, Noah!” she pleaded. “Stop fighting!”

Noah twisted around to look at her, his face so contorted by fury she didn’t recognize him. Who is this boy? she thought in horror. I don’t know him.

“Let-me-go!” he shrieked. A bright drop of blood slid from his nostril and splattered onto the snow.

She stared down in shock at the splash of red, then looked at her son, heaving like an exhausted beast, his breath steaming the air. A fine line of blood glistened on his upper lip.

New voices called out to them from a distance. Claire turned, and saw men crossing toward them. As they came closer, she recognized the uniforms.

State police.