Thomas survived the gunshot. Barely.
By evening, he was breathing steadily in a small upstairs room at Patterson's house, while Luke sat outside the door.
He hadn't moved in hours. The words kept repeating in his mind.
He didn't die.
Mercer.
The man who killed your father.
Luke had spent more than a year accepting that he might never know the identity of the second man who had been with Snakeeye Simmons.
He had made peace with it. Or thought he had. Now the past had come back and put a name to the shadow.
Patterson stepped into the hall. "He's awake."
Luke stood. "What did he say?"
"He's asking for you."
Luke entered the room. Thomas looked pale. But conscious.
"Mercer," Luke said.
Thomas nodded. "His name is Walter."
Luke felt the room close in. "Walter Mercer."
"Yes." "Who is he?"
Thomas swallowed. "My mother's brother."
Luke stared. "Your uncle?"
Thomas nodded. "He hated William."
"Why?"
"Because he believed William had destroyed our family."
Luke sat down. "Then why kill my father?"
Thomas looked toward the window. "Because Sam knew too much."
"What did he know?"
Thomas hesitated. "He knew Walter had been using Snakeeye."
Luke's blood ran cold. "For what?"
"To frighten people."
"Steal land?"
"Sometimes."
"Kill?"
Thomas looked away. "Sometimes."
Luke thought of Simmons.
The answer was suddenly there. Snakeeye had never been the mastermind. He had been hired.
"Sam found out."
Thomas nodded. "He confronted Walter."
"And Walter killed him."
"With Simmons."
Luke closed his eyes.
The shadow finally had a face. The second man.
The man Miss Clara could never positively identify. Walter Mercer.
The name that had waited years to surface.
Luke opened his eyes. "Where is he?"
Thomas looked toward the river. "At the Night Landing."
Luke stood. "Then that's where we're going."
The Night Landing had changed since the last time Luke saw it.
The storm had pushed more water over the bank. Old pilings rose from the river like broken teeth.
Moonlight glimmered across the current.
Patterson checked his weapon.
Thomas remained in the truck.
"You stay here," Luke told him.
Thomas shook his head. "No."
"You were shot."
"I'm still alive."
Luke looked at him.
Thomas smiled weakly. "My mother waited too long for answers. I'm not doing the same thing."
They moved toward the landing. A light flickered beneath the trees. Then another.
Luke stopped. Voices.
One was familiar. Snakeeye Simmons was dead.
The voice belonged to another man. Older. Colder.
Walter Mercer.
"Sam should have left the past alone."
Luke stepped into the clearing. "You killed him."
Walter turned. He was older than Luke expected. Gray hair. Narrow face. Eyes that had spent a lifetime holding anger.
"Sam knew what he wasn't supposed to know."
"And you used Simmons."
Walter smiled. "Simmons was useful."
"You murdered my father."
"No."
Luke's anger surged. "You were there."
"I was there." "But I didn't pull the trigger."
Walter looked toward the river. "Simmons did."
Luke stared. The distinction felt meaningless.
Walter continued. "Sam was given a choice."
"What choice?"
"Walk away."
"And he didn't."
"No."
Walter's face hardened. "He never did."
Luke stepped closer. "You've spent decades blaming everyone but yourself."
Walter laughed softly. "That sounds like something Sam would say."
"You're afraid of him even now."
"No."
Walter's voice dropped. "I'm afraid of what he left behind."
He reached inside his coat.
Luke's hand moved toward his weapon.
Walter pulled out the missing Book of Names.
Luke froze.
"You want this?" Walter sneered?. "Your father spent years making sure this book never surfaced."
"Why?"
"Because it contains the names of everyone who knew."
"Who knew what?"
Walter looked at him. "Who knew where the bodies were buried."
Luke felt sick. "Whose bodies?"
Walter's eyes moved toward the river. "Families who disappeared."
People who had been driven off their land.
Witnesses who had vanished.
Men who had known too much.
"William started it," Walter said.
"McCrory knew."
"Jacob knew."
"Sam knew."
"And I finished what they started."
Luke stared at him. "Why?"
Walter's answer was almost a whisper. "Because I believed the truth would destroy the only family I had left."
Thomas stepped forward. "You destroyed it anyway."
Walter looked at him.
For a moment, his face broke. Then he lowered the book. "I know."
A gunshot shattered the night. Walter staggered. A second shot came from the trees.
Patterson dragged Luke down. They hit the ground.
"Who's shooting?" Luke looked toward the trees.
Another figure appeared.
Snakeeye was dead. But the person behind Walter wasn't.
It was the man who had been moving through Belle Rive's shadows. The man who had been watching Luke. The man Walter had been afraid of.
Walter whispered: "He's here."