“The sheriff is here,” I said, my hand trembling on the doorknob.

“Come back inside and shut the door,” he said. “You don’t have any shoes. The deputy will come over here to talk to you.”

I turned back to look at him, realizing he’d put on his own shoes and donned his jacket. “Are you going out there?”

“I’m gonna go talk to the deputy. Ruth’s on her way, so stay put until she gets here.”

The deputy’s small SUV pulled to a stop on the tavern side of the street, but the deputy remained inside…parked between me and my secrets.

The door to my motel room was still standing wide open, a big gaping chasm to my precarious new life. What would they do when they found the gun? It wasn’t registered to me. I had no idea if it was registered at all, and it definitely had my fingerprints all over it. I wasn’t in any criminal databases, but I’d been fingerprinted in a couple of states as part of the background checks required for my teacher certification. Could they link my old identity to the gun with those?

Even if they didn’t, their search might alert the people who were looking for me.

My stomach churned and my mouth turned sour.

Max started to move past me, but something in my face stopped him. He grabbed my upper arms as he searched my face. “It’s gonna be all right, Carly. The deputy will come in and ask you a few questions and that will be that, okay?”

I opened my mouth, just barely stopping myself from telling him about the gun. What would he do if I told him I’d had one? Would he assume I’d shot Seth? Would he turn me in? Or would he help me? But if he did help me, he’d be breaking the law…

His brow furrowed as he watched me work through my dilemma. My mother had always told me I had a terrible poker face, that every emotion that floated through my head was plain as day. I’d worked on that over the years, but I was tired and scared, and I was sure he knew I was hiding something.

I decided to take a leap of faith.

“I had a gun.”

He blinked. Then his brows shot up and his mouth parted. “What?”

“I have a gun and I took it out when I heard him moaning outside my room. I didn’t know if the people who’d hurt him were still out there, and I was scared. But then I saw how badly he was hurt, and I dropped it on the ground so I could put pressure on his wound. I completely forgot about it,” I said in a breathless rush. “It’s not registered to me and if the deputy finds—”

His grip on my arms tightened and his eyes hardened. “Shh. Don’t you worry about it. I’ll take care of it.”

I gasped. “What? How?”

“I know you didn’t do this, and you were smart to carry a weapon with you. Now stay inside and trust me to deal with it, okay?” He dropped his hold and left the bar, the night air whooshing in as the door closed behind him, and I watched him jog across the street as a deputy started to get out of his car, his flashing lights bouncing off the red brick motel building.

Torn between bolting to the bathroom to vomit or staying to watch, I chose to stay and witness the end of life as I knew it.

Because when the deputy picked up that gun, it would start a chain of events that would reveal my true name. And if Carly Moore was unmasked, I was as good as dead.

“Carly?” Ruth called out in a panic behind me. I nearly jumped out of my skin.

I spun around to see her coming toward me across the dining room. She had on a pair of pink fuzzy pajama bottoms covered in tiny rubber duckies, and a dark puffy coat that hit just below her butt. Her fake Uggs were darker where they’d gotten wet from the light snow cover.

“What are you doin’ in front of that open door, honey? You’ll catch your death of cold.”

I stared at her, frozen and unable to answer her.

She reached me and wrapped her arm around my back, gently tugging me away from the open doorway. I turned back to see Max standing to the side of Seth’s body, his hands propped on his hips as both he and the deputy stared down at the boy.

Tears filled my eyes, and I reminded myself that a boy had died here tonight. His heartless murder was more important than my own worries.

Ruth shut the door and led me to the back of the restaurant and then into the kitchen.

“Tiny won’t like us bein’ back here,” I said, resisting her tug to cross over the invisible line.

“Tiny won’t give a single shit,” she said, pulling me in and shoving me onto a high-backed metal barstool Tiny likely used for breaks. As I took a seat, she headed straight for the coffee brewer and poured steaming liquid into two ceramic mugs. “Cream or sugar?”

“Uh…both.” Seth was dead. His murderers had driven off as casually as if they’d just finished a shopping trip at Walmart. I knew secrets that might help find them, but I couldn’t trust the sheriff. My gun was lying on the ground next to Seth’s body, a possible homing device for the people who were searching for me. All of this, and Ruth was asking if I took cream or sugar in my coffee.

I started to laugh.

Ruth squinted over at me as she poured coffee into both cups. Once she was done doctoring them, she set down the creamer carton with a decisive thud and reached into a cabinet, pulling out a small flask of whiskey. She poured a generous helping into each cup, then handed one to me. “Drink.”

It was a direct order, and I found myself taking a big enough gulp to burn both my tongue and the roof of my mouth.

She must have caught a glimpse of my hands, because after taking a sip from her own mug, she grabbed a fresh dishrag and held it under the water from the faucet. When she returned, she swiped at my face, removing blood splatters I hadn’t felt or noticed. She washed out the rag and returned, picking up one of my hands as she began to gently swipe at the stains, much like I used to clean up the preschoolers I’d watched at a daycare during my early education courses in college.

“I don’t think you’re supposed to do that,” I said, my tears back. “The sheriff’s deputy might need to—”

“Bullshit,” she said, continuing to wipe. “If you’re suggesting he might need this for evidence, then he’ll just have to go without it. You’re in shock and staring at his blood on your hands isn’t gonna do anyone a lick of good, least of all Seth Chalmers, God rest his soul.” Her eyes turned glassy and her hands began to shake.

“Did you know him?” I asked.

“Everyone knew him, especially after his momma died last year,” she said as she continued to wipe off my hands.

I knew I should stop her, but her touch was comforting and grounding, and I felt myself calming down. “What happened to her?”

She shook her head and clucked. “Drugs. That’s what happens to a good portion of the people in this godforsaken town. Meth. Like to have killed Hank, especially with his history and the stand he’s always taken against hard drugs. His wife had just died of breast cancer and then he lost his daughter. Seth was all he had left.”

My heart broke a little more. I couldn’t bring Seth back, but maybe the information I had would help his grandfather seek justice. “Does Hank live close?”

“He lives over in White Rabbit Holler, out by me, but he ain’t there.” She shook her head again. “Hank Chalmers is in the hospital down in Greeneville.” She made a face. “Got his leg amputated. Was supposed to come home in a day or two, and Seth was gonna take care of him.” She pushed out a huge sigh. “Guess somebody should’ve been lookin’ out for that boy.”