“If anyone can convince him,” Evan said, “it’s you.”

She didn’t know how to respond to that. Changing the subject, she said, “So Maggie said I need to ask you about Mexico?”

“That little sneak. I’ll tell you all about it tomorrow when you’re back. Hey, can I talk to the little man?”

“Sure.” Liv handed Tommy the phone. “It’s Daddy.”

Tommy clutched the phone and said, “Hello.” He listened, a look of wonder sprouting on his face. “Really? The beach? Another airplane?”

Liv realized that Evan must have booked a spring break trip, one they couldn’t afford. She actually liked the idea of a getaway. It had been so long. And Mags worked so hard in high school, she deserved it.

“Awesome! I love you too.” Tommy held out the phone for Liv to take from him.

“What was that about?”

“You’ll see.”

Liv was going to press him but she noticed a middle-aged woman, a beady-eyed mess with smeared makeup and disheveled hair, staring at her.

“I need to get going,” she said. “But is Mags okay? I had some missed calls from her.”

“Magpie is great. I have her helping me with a project.”

Always a project. She wanted to tell him to just hang out with her. Watch a movie. Get dinner. Anything that wasn’t a “project” relating to Danny’s case.

“Hey, Liv,” Evan said. His tone was more serious now.

“Yes?”

“I’m sorry.”

“For what?”

“For everything.”

What the hell was going on at home? “Are you okay?”

“Never better,” he said.

* * *

She left the ice cream shop holding Tommy’s hand, which was sticky and gross but she didn’t mind. It was something people without kids would never understand. It wasn’t gross to her.

They walked down Main Street, her thoughts returning to when she was a girl. In those days they spent more time outside—running the fields, fishing at the creek, riding bikes. The rental car was parked at the curb in front of the pharmacy. Tommy was playing a game of avoid-the-sidewalk-cracks, using her arm to swing over offending crevices. He didn’t want to break anyone’s back, after all. Never mind the shoulder surgery she might need.

At the car, Liv dug through her handbag for the keys. She was still holding Tommy’s hand, and had to contort her body so her other hand could rifle through the bag. She finally felt the key fob for the rental and pulled it out.

When she looked up, she was startled by the sight of a woman—the crazy lady from the ice cream store. She was standing too close, her pupils saucers.

“They said you were here,” she said in a raspy voice. The woman blinked several times.

Still clutching Tommy’s hand, Liv put her body between the woman and her son.

“I’m sorry?” she said, trying to sound polite.

“My Ronnie was a good cop, and he didn’t kill himself,” she said.

Oh God, Liv thought. It was the cop’s wife. She clicked the key fob, turned, and picked up Tommy. “I’m sorry, we really need to go,” she said, avoiding eye contact.

Liv opened the door with one hand, ushered Tommy safely inside, and shut the door and locked it. The fear she’d felt for her son’s safety turned to rage. First Danielle Parker at the convenience store, then the cop yesterday, now this. She’d had enough of this goddamned town and its lunatic residents. Liv gave the woman a harsh stare.

Examining the woman more closely, though, Liv’s anger dissipated. Detective Sampson’s wife was frail and sad-looking and a mess.

“I’m sorry for your loss,” Liv said. She was ashamed that she wasn’t sure she meant it. Ron Sampson had railroaded her son.

The woman didn’t reply, just dug through her bag.

“They say I’m nuts. They won’t listen to me.” Liv could smell alcohol on the woman’s breath. But this was more than booze. Pills, painkillers, maybe.

“But my Ronnie didn’t kill himself.”

“I really need to go.” Liv started to walk around the car to the driver’s side. Tommy had his nose to the window. He waved to her, oblivious.

The woman started bawling.

“I’m sorry,” was all Liv could manage.

“Ron was sorry too,” the woman said. “About what he did, about what happened to your boy. He said he was gonna fix it.”

This grabbed Liv’s attention. What on earth was she talking about? Ron Sampson had bullied Danny into confessing.

“He scheduled a meeting with those movie people,” the woman continued. “Was gonna tell them everything, and then…” She started crying again. “He wouldn’t do it. He wouldn’t leave me.”

The woman started digging in the bag again, and Liv feared for a second that she’d produce a weapon. But Mrs. Sampson pulled out a wrinkled manila folder.

“Ronnie told me that this proves everything.” She shoved the file into Liv’s hands. “I’m sorry about your boy,” Mrs. Sampson said.

And then she ran off.

CHAPTER 37

EVAN PINE

BEFORE

Evan tried not to get bent out of shape about Liv having dinner with him. She was trying to help. So was Noah, Evan supposed. Though Noah’s altruism always tended to benefit himself. Granted, he’d been a strong advocate for Danny. But doing so had elevated his political stature and brought him heartthrob status. And it distracted from the fact that it was his son who’d thrown the party that night. At Noah’s house, no less.

Before Danny’s arrest, Evan had never been jealous of Noah Brawn. He thought Liv saw Noah for who he really was: a glad-handing politician. But Evan and Liv had drifted apart before Evan had even realized it, and Noah was undeniably handsome and charismatic. And if Evan were being honest, he had let himself go. Now Evan couldn’t help but envy the man. He wanted to call Liv back and say, Hell no, you’re not going. Something in Liv’s voice said that she hoped he’d tell her not to go. That she wanted him to fight for her. Put her above everything else, even the hope of a pardon. It was one of those moments where he realized how much he’d failed her.

He picked up his cell. Do it. Call her.

But then he heard the jangle of keys at the door and Maggie strolled into the kitchen. She seemed excited, a sparkle in her eyes.

“Hey, Magpie. You just missed Mom’s call.”

“How’s Grandpa?” Maggie asked.

“He’s still having trouble, but at least they’ll let him stay at the home.”

“Did you tell her about the trip?”

“No, but apparently someone did.”

Maggie’s face reddened and she gave a timid smile. “I didn’t tell her. I just mentioned that she might want to talk to you about Mexico. What’d she say?”

“Not much. I didn’t get into it. Said it was a surprise. Don’t worry, it will be fine.”

“Will it, Dad?” Maggie took a stool next to her father at the kitchen counter.

“Will it what?”

“Be fine. I mean, it’s kind of crazy.”

Evan grinned. “I’ve got to live up to my reputation.”

Maggie didn’t laugh. The documentary’s portrayal of Evan as unhinged was a sore spot for his daughter.

He gazed at her, marveling that he’d helped produce such an amazing person. He’d always known she was special. From the time Maggie was a baby, Liv would say that their little girl had a “special edition” heart. It filled his own heart with pride to see that she’d never changed. It was the great mystery of parenting: Who would these little people become? Would the predictions you made when they were babies come true? Were their personalities forged by the age of seven, as he’d read somewhere? Would the morals you tried to instill stick? Or would there be a twist in the story? One fitting of those crime novels Liv loved so much.

“You’re not crazy,” Maggie said, intruding on his thoughts.

He had another surge of emotion. He loved this girl so much. He thought of the pills he’d jammed into his mouth. How could he have considered …

“Before we go on the trip,” Maggie said, “I need you to watch something.” She drew her laptop from her bag and placed it on the counter. “And if after you see it, you still think we should go, I won’t say another word.”

Evan was intrigued. “Of course, sweetie. What is it?”

Maggie tapped on her laptop. A video came up. She clicked play and Evan’s heart was in his throat at the image on the screen.

Charlotte. Alive. Standing in front of a cluster of computer monitors. Her outfit was familiar. Then it hit him. She was wearing the same sweatshirt as Maggie.

Then Charlotte spoke: “Dad, it’s me. I know it looks like Charlotte, but it’s me. And if I can do this in Toby’s garage, whoever called you could too.”

Excerpt from

A Violent Nature

Season 1/Episode 9

“The Smasher”

INSERT – LOCAL NEWS FOOTAGE

A reporter stands in front of razor-wire fencing surrounding a prison.

REPORTER