Ethan reached for the rifle hanging beside the main room door.
Clara caught his sleeve.
The voice outside came again.
“ETHAN BLACKWOOD!”
Ethan glanced back.
“Know him?”
“No.”
Then the stranger shouted something that froze Clara’s blood.
“CLARA WHITMORE!”
Her hand fell away.
Ethan turned.
The man outside continued:
“IF SHE’S IN THERE, OPEN THIS DOOR!”
Clara whispered, “No.”
Ethan looked at her.
“You know him.”
“I know the voice.”
“Who?”
She could not answer.
Another pound.
“CLARA!”
Then:
“YOUR HUSBAND’S GRAVE WAS EMPTY!”
Silence swallowed the cabin.
Even the dogs seemed to pause.
Ethan stared at Clara.
She felt every drop of blood leave her face.
“My husband is dead.”
Outside, the stranger shouted:
“THEN SOMEBODY BETTER EXPLAIN WHY THERE WAS NOTHING IN HIS COFFIN.”
Ethan opened the door only after forcing the stranger to step away from it.
The man outside raised both hands.
He was perhaps forty-five.
Snow covered his coat and shoulders.
A revolver remained holstered at his hip.
He looked exhausted.
Not threatening.
Ethan kept his rifle lowered but ready.
“Name.”
“Jonah Reed.”
“Occupation.”
“Former deputy sheriff.”
“Former?”
“Long story.”
“You have a short version?”
Jonah looked past him.
“Clara Whitmore knows me.”
Ethan did not move.
Clara appeared behind him.
Jonah’s expression changed when he saw her.
Relief.
Then regret.
“Mrs. Whitmore.”
Clara gripped the back of a chair.
“Mr. Reed.”
Ethan looked between them.
“Inside.”
Jonah entered.
Bear sniffed him suspiciously.
Jonah removed his hat.
Clara sat because her knees had begun to fail.
Ethan remained standing beside her.
He did not touch her.
But close enough.
Jonah saw.
“You remarried.”
Clara whispered, “Three days ago.”
Jonah closed his eyes briefly.
“That makes this worse.”
Ethan’s jaw tightened.
“Start talking.”
Jonah placed a leather folder on the table.
Clara recognized the county seal.
Boston.
Her chest tightened.
Jonah said, “Three years ago Gideon Whitmore was declared dead after the warehouse fire at Easton Wharf.”
Ethan looked at Clara.
She stared at the folder.
Jonah continued.
“Body was badly burned.”
“No.”
Clara’s voice shook.
“There was a body.”
“There was something in the coffin.”
“You signed papers.”
“I saw his ring.”
“Coat.”
“Watch.”
Jonah nodded slowly.
“You never saw his face.”
Clara looked up.
“There was no face left.”
“That’s what they told you.”
Ethan’s eyes narrowed.
“Who is they?”
“Coroner.”
“Family attorney.”
“Whitmore’s business partner.”
Jonah looked at Clara.
“Arthur Vale.”
She knew the name.
Gideon’s closest friend.
A man who had stood beside her at the funeral.
Jonah opened the folder.