“No. The sooner this all gets resolved, the better. I'm not going to stop working just because I fell off a burning roof. Did they find them? They're going to need to be a part of the investigation. They need to be around to corroborate the stories he told about his father and explain themselves and their role in his childhood. They can give insight into his mindset and experiences that no one else can.”
“They've traced his mother and sister. Both of them are coming in within the next couple of days. They're still looking for his brother. There doesn't seem to be any trace of him in years, but that doesn't mean much. He very easily could have changed his identity and moved to another country or just fallen off the grid. But we'll keep looking for him. If nothing else, I think it's probably a good idea for everybody who's ever come in contact with Jake to be accounted for,” Eric says.
“They need to run a DNA test on Cole Barnes. I think he's Jake's father,” I say.
I know I'm going to come in contact with Jake again in the near future. I'll also probably encounter his mother and sister. I don't know how to feel about any of it. Part of me has compassion for them. I can see how all this will horrify his mother and sister. It will be incredibly hard for them. This is something they’ll have to live with for the rest of their lives, knowing they contributed to Jake's complete breakdown and to tremendous losses of life.
But at the same time, they put Jake through hell. They let the man he thought was his father mistreat him, and they abandoned him when he was far too young to have to go through all that alone. They are, at the very least, partly to blame for this. Not that they made him do it, or it's an excuse, but they are most definitely a contributing factor. I will have no hesitation telling them that. They need to understand what they did and the damage it caused.
But I also know after everything, Jake doesn't really deserve much of my compassion. He knew exactly what he was doing. That will have to sit alongside all the other feelings I ever had for him, and I will live with it, dealing with it every day as I move forward.
Epilogue
Bellamy and Eric offered to clean all of my stuff out of the cabin, so I didn't have to go there again, but I didn't take them up on it. I felt like I needed to come here again to try to get some sort of conclusion and closure to everything I experienced in Feathered Nest. I don't know if that's really possible. Part of me will linger here, and there won't ever really be any closure. But coming back here and being able to put the finishing moments on the job gets me closer.
My bags are packed, and I carry them out of the bedroom and into the living room. I've already cleaned out the kitchen and tucked away all the dishes I used. The furnace hums along smoothly, keeping the space warm. Clancy will be by later to deactivate it, putting it to sleep until the next time somebody comes to visit.
I have a feeling it won't be long. As soon as the story of what happened here spreads, people will flock to stay in the cabin on the lake and explore the woods. They crave the mystery. People like that bring me back to my theory of the atmosphere of being stained by crime. Maybe they can see it and feel it in a way other people can't. They flock to them to remember those spaces and never let them forget.
All that's left is packing up the remaining papers I have. Most of my notes and pictures are with Creagan to be used in the investigation, but I still have some of the original clippings and papers I brought with me. They'll go home with me and get tucked away into a case file, then put on a shelf in my house just like all my other cases. I never look through those books, but they're there. One day long after my time with the bureau is done and I retire, maybe I'll take them down and flip through them, remembering these days. I can share them with my children and hopefully inspire some of the same pride as my father always did in me.
I hear a knock on my door just as I'm slipping the last of the papers into my satchel. I look back over my shoulder and see Eric at the door.
“You ready?” he asks.
“I think so,” I nod. “Actually, can you bring these to the car? I need just one more minute.”
“Sure.”
He takes the bags and walks out of the cabin, closing the door behind him. I wait until his steps leave the porch and walk back into the bedroom. Opening the top drawer of the dresser, I reach in and pull out the thimble. I tuck it into my pocket, draw in one more breath, and walk away, leaving the bed perfectly made and spread with the crazy quilt.
Eric looks over at me when I climb into the passenger seat.
“Are you okay?” he asks.
“Yep,” I tell him, reaching behind me to get my seatbelt. I wince at the pain that radiates through me at the twisting motion. “Mostly. Did they already come for the car?”
“Yeah. They towed it over to the police station to use as evidence. I can't believe you drove around with that glass in your back seat.”
“I can't believe I'm actually going to miss that thing.”
He laughs and turns the engine over. We pull away from the cabin and down the long driveway. Bellamy has already gone home, and I can imagine she's at work filling my freezer with whatever she comes up with, so I have meals to warm up during my time off.
I told Creagan I was going to take the vacation I haven't taken in the last three years, and he didn't argue. But I'm not planning on staying home for all of it. As a reward for the success of this job, he turned the other way when Eric slipped me a bit of information they found about Greg's disappearance. I plan on following up on it as soon as I'm feeling back to normal.
“How long are you planning on staying in Maine?” Eric asks.
“As long as I need to. It depends on what I can find while I'm there,” I shrug.
“And then?”
“And then, I don't know. Creagan still won't let me be a part of the investigation, and I think his goodwill towards me is only going to last but so long. I'm not sure how much interference he's going to tolerate. I might just have to pass along anything I find out to you and hope for more.”
“Somehow, I don't think that's actually what you're going to do,” he smiles.
“We'll see.”
“And if nothing pans out? Are you going to go visit Florida?”
He knows how much my heart longs for the state. The water parks. The burn of the concrete on my feet. I could definitely use some time to let my bones thaw from this miserable weather.
But I reach into the pocket of my hooded sweatshirt and pull out the printed picture inside. Looking down at the image of my parents, young and smiling, my father's skin touched with gold; I focus on the vaguely familiar face between them.
“How do you feel about Iowa?”
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