The End of Her by Shari Lapena

Author:Shari Lapena [Shari Lapena]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781473574441
Publisher: Transworld
Published: 2020-07-22T18:30:00+00:00

CHAPTER THIRTY

ERICA SETS OFF on the hour-long drive from the Denver airport to Creemore. She skirts the city, and soon leaves it behind. Her route takes her into the Denver foothills; it’s a beautiful drive, but she’s not taken with the scenery. The familiar road unwinds in front of her.

When she arrives in town, she finds herself taking an unplanned detour back to where it all happened, to the residential street where Patrick and Lindsey had lived. She parks her rental car across from the old brick house where they had the second-floor apartment. She gets out of the car and stares at the front window on the second floor. That was their living room. Erica can still picture it perfectly; cheaply furnished, crowded with items – some new, some second-hand – for the expected baby. Erica turns and looks at the little cul-de-sac where their car was parked that day, the day Lindsey died. It’s late August, and it’s hard to imagine, right now, this street buried in four feet of snow. She tries to remember exactly where Lindsey’s body lay that day, but there’s no snowbank, so she can’t be sure. Then she closes her eyes and suddenly she can see it all.

After a few minutes, she gets back into the car and drives to the Grant County Sheriff’s Office. It’s a large concrete-and-glass building set back from the road. She parks in the lot and takes a moment to mentally prepare herself. Finally she gets out of the car and strides up to the front doors and walks in. She approaches the uniformed woman at the front desk.

‘Can I help you?’ the woman asks.

‘I’d like to speak to the sheriff, please.’

‘Can I ask what it’s regarding?’

‘It’s about an old case,’ Erica says. ‘I have some important information.’

The other woman studies her for a moment. ‘Wait here,’ she says, and leaves the desk. She soon returns and says, ‘Come this way, please.’

They walk down a shiny corridor, their footsteps noisy on the floor. They arrive at an office, its door open. ‘In here,’ the woman says, and departs.

A tall, burly man wearing a dark uniform stands up from behind his desk and approaches her. He looks to be in his early forties, she thinks. ‘I’m Lorne Bastedo,’ the sheriff says, shaking her hand.

‘Erica Voss,’ she says.

He offers her a seat and sits down behind his desk. ‘What can I do for you?’

‘I have information,’ she says, ‘about a murder.’ As she speaks, he listens attentively. She sees his face grow more serious. Finally, when she’s told him all of it – the affair, the pregnancy, the look Patrick gave her, the insurance payout – she waits for his reaction. She’s told her story well. And she’s confident that her actions since – staying away from Patrick, giving their baby up for adoption, coming forward now – will assure him that she had nothing to do with it. That it’s only her conscience that’s making her do this now.

‘This is a serious allegation,’ the sheriff says pensively, sitting back in his chair.

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