her, his was on two people sitting apart on the curb. Damon and the woman’s ghost.
Damon held the woman’s hands, leaning in close and talking to her as she nodded numbly, her gaze fixed on the crowd around her body. Finn stayed where he was. There was nothing the woman could add that would help him solve her murder, and there was nothing Finn could add that would comfort her more than Damon already was.
Gradually, the woman’s shock seemed to thaw. She added words to her nods. Then she made eye contact with Damon while she spoke to him. Finally she twisted to face him. He said something, and she nodded and replied. He helped her to her feet and, still holding one of her hands, led her to the edge of the crowd.
Damon stopped there, releasing her hand. She took his back, squeezing it and saying something. Then, leaving him on the edge, she walked to where her husband knelt beside her body, tears streaming down his face. She stood behind him and touched the top of his head, stroking it even as her fingers passed through. Her husband stopped. He lifted his head. She smiled and bent, murmuring, hand still resting on his head.
Then she was gone.
ROBYN
Robyn followed Hope onto the path. They’d emerged near the barricade. Hope looked around, then jammed the gun into the back of her jeans like an action-movie chick.
“Which shoulder was it?” Hope asked.
“What?”
Hope waved for her to sit on the barrier. “Which shoulder were you shot in?” When Robyn paused, Hope prodded her until she was sitting, then said, “Take off your shirt,” as she pulled what looked like a first-aid kit from her pocket.
“Karl . . .”
Hope glanced toward the forest, then blinked, erasing a flash of worry. “He’ll be fine. Let’s get that shoulder cleaned up before we go.”
Robyn shed the shirt and Hope set to work, as competent as any field medic.
I don’t know her. I don’t know her at all.
She shivered.
“Cold?”
Hope took off her denim jacket and started pulling it around Robyn’s bare shoulders. Then her face lifted, eyes closing. A soft gasp. When she opened her eyes, Robyn saw the same gleam from before, now fading into a glow of rapture.
“It’s over,” she whispered. “He’s okay.”
“Hope?”
She jumped, startled, then busied herself tugging the jacket on Robyn. “I don’t hear them fighting anymore, and I think Karl called out. Once he gets here, we need to leave—”
“What happened?” Robyn’s throat was dry, her whisper like the rustling of dry leaves.
“Hmm?”
“Back there. In the forest. The man.”
“My guess is that he’s the partner of that girl who shot you. Luckily she seems to be relying on him to bring you in and staying clear. One less problem for us to deal with.”
“He’s not working with her.”
A tight laugh. “That would be awfully coincidental, you having two people hunting you for unrelated reasons. I’m sure he’s—”
“He’s not. He took a call. He was talking about her—Adele—about getting me away from her.”
“Oh?” Hope’s head shot up. “What did—?” She stopped. “You saw a man at Judd Archer’s house, right? I bet that was him. Her former partner, now pursuing his own agenda.”
“And, according to what he said on the phone, pursuing Karl.”
It took a moment for Hope to find the proper expression of surprise. “I guess we’ll have to figure it all out later. For now—”
She looked up, then quickly plastered on a fresh bandage before hurrying to the forest’s edge. Robyn heard and saw nothing, but a moment later, Karl appeared. He and Hope stayed there, a dozen feet away, murmuring in voices too low for Robyn to make out.
Hope checked Karl’s lip, then fingered a bloodied rip in his shirt. He bent over her, talking, Hope nodding.
Then Karl brushed hair back from her face, leaning to say something more intimate. The other Karl—the one in the forest, the one who’d pushed them aside—was gone.
“I’ll walk you two back to the car first,” Karl said as they approached Robyn.
Hope shook her head. “We’ll be fine. You finish here, then meet up with us.” She looked at Robyn. “Karl has to clean up.”
“Get rid of the body,” Robyn said.
Hope let out a chirp. A laugh? Or a choke of surprise? “Damon really did subject you to too many crime shows, didn’t he? I meant Karl needs to clean himself up.” She waved at his bloodied shirt and split lip. “He can’t go traipsing around in public like that.”
Robyn gave her a