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She nodded like she had said that to herself a thousand times. “The chapel wasn’t where I lived all that time. It was where I came back. Your husband had marked it in his notes as the one place nobody would think to search twice. I stayed here at first.” For a second, she stopped and took a breath.
“Then I moved around. Weekly motels. Cash jobs. A room over a closed bait shop for a while. An old woman in the next county thought I was hiding from a violent man and let me do laundry and sewing in exchange for food. I used a different first name. I kept waiting for a time when it would be safe.”
“The real evidence is in a watertight lockbox.”
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“And it never was?”
Her eyes filled. “Every time I thought maybe it was, I would see Tom in town. At a gas station. In a county office parking lot. Once outside Daniel’s middle school. He was making sure I knew.”
