Chapter 16 - The Man Who Signed Her Death
Owen Pike stood inside the pumping station with a revolver in his trembling hand. My mother was beside him, one wrist tied to a pipe. Behind them, a control panel hummed beneath a row of flickering lights.
Mara had me listen from the command van while she spoke to him by phone.
“Put down the weapon, Owen. We can get you a lawyer.”
“You think a lawyer can help me after sixteen years?” His voice cracked. “Daniel left me here to take the blame.”
“You signed a death certificate for a living woman,” Mara said.
“He told me she'd been sedated. He said she was being moved. I didn't know he'd close the coffin with her still inside.”
Mom lifted her head. “You heard her knock, Owen.”
Silence.
“You heard her,” she repeated. “And you kept walking.”
Pike started crying. He lowered the gun an inch, then raised it again when a siren sounded outside.
“I can tell you where Daniel's going,” he whispered. “Just don't let him get to my son.”
Mara gave a quiet signal. An officer moved behind a concrete partition.
Mom stepped closer to Pike, as much as the rope allowed. “Look at me. You can choose differently this once.”
For a second, I saw the desperate wish on his face. Then he set the gun on the floor and raised both hands.
The radio erupted with commands. Officers entered. A medic cut Mom free.
I was running before anyone could tell me not to. She met me at the station door, and I held her so tightly she gasped.
“I'm sorry,” she said into my hair. “I thought I could keep him away.”
“We can talk about that later. You're here.”
Pike told investigators Daniel had taken a service boat toward the old family property, where the river bent behind our street. He'd gone to collect something he'd hidden before the mill fire.
Mom pulled back from our embrace.
“The gun,” she whispered. “The one Samuel saw.”
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Then she looked at me in horror.
“It's been in our house this whole time.”
