I sniffed, too. The sweet, putrid smell of decay wafted from somewhere behind our seats, but I was pretty sure it wasn’t coming through the broken window. In all the chaos, I’d forgotten all about Carl.
“About that,” I said, starting the engine. “There’s something I need your help with. And I need you to trust me. Completely.”
Steven looked hesitant, even as he nodded. “Name it.”
My hands ached with phantom blisters as I gripped the wheel and hit the road for the farm. “I need to borrow a backhoe.”
CHAPTER 42
On the way to Steven’s farm, I told him all about what had happened to Carl. Steven had already known Carl was ill, but he took the news hard, a tinge of remorse touching the corners of his eyes. I explained how Theresa had used the farm’s business account to pay for the storage unit to hide Carl’s body, and how Vero and I had found the records when we’d broken in the night of the fire. He laughed in spite of himself when I told him how we’d delivered the contents of the freezer to Theresa’s door, and how Vero and I had been so terrified for the children when we’d left Theresa’s house, we’d forgotten we’d left a piece of Carl in the trunk of Vero’s Charger. Steven’s smile withered, a look of horror flashing across his face as he realized what was causing the smell in the back of the Aston Martin.
“You want me to help you bury him. On my farm.” I thought maybe it was shock that had flattened his voice. After all, it had been a strange night. I imagined it might take a lot to surprise him anymore. And maybe that was for the best.
“I can’t take Carl back to his house,” I reasoned. “The place is crawling with cops. And I definitely can’t take him home with me. The farm is the safest place. For now.” Maybe one day, after the dust settled, Steven could coordinate with Barbara and return this last piece of Carl to his final resting place behind the Westovers’ house.
Steven nodded slowly, coming to terms with the fact that this was our only option.
We took the back entrance into the farm, the Aston Martin crawling over the deep ruts in the gravel road. Déjà vu hit hard as we passed the fallow field where Vero and I had buried Harris, and I had to resist the urge to turn my head and look. Steven was quiet as we passed it.
“There.” He pointed behind one of his outbuildings, where the long neck of a backhoe was silhouetted against the night sky. Steven directed me across a narrow stretch of grass between the fields.
“Wait here,” he said, getting out of the car.
I rolled down the passenger side window and called after him, “I can help, you know.”
He turned, smiling at the lines of adhesive on his wrist. Hands braced against the side of the car, he leaned into the open window, something akin to pride in the gleam of his eyes. “I know you can. But it’s better if you stay in the car.” He pointed to my shoes and bare hands. “As far as the police are concerned, you were never here.”
A laugh burst out of me. “If I didn’t know better, I might think you’d done this before.”
His shrug was a little humble. “I haven’t slept much over the last few weeks. I might have read a few of your books. You know, to pass the time.” He dropped his head, kicking at the ground with the toe of his boot as my jaw slackened in surprise. The overdue library book I’d found in the front desk of the trailer—the one next to the couch where Steven slept—hadn’t been Bree’s at all. Steven’s eyes lifted to mine. “Let me do this for you, Finn. I owe you this much.” When I nodded, he patted the roof of the car and said, “Pop the trunk. Let’s get this over with.”
Under the glow of the Aston’s headlights, Steven hauled himself up into the cab of the backhoe and fired it up, excavating a deep, clean hole. Shoulders heavy, he lowered the last of Carl into the ground. Then he climbed back into the tractor and filled the grave, parking the backhoe over the mound.
He pulled off his work gloves as he wandered back to my side of the car. I rolled down the window. “Do you have someplace to stay tonight?” The charred remains of the trailer were a shadow in the distance, and for now, his house probably wasn’t safe.
He shrugged. “I’ll call Guy. I’m sure he won’t mind if I crash on his couch.”
“Hop in. I’ll give you a lift.”
Steven shook his head. “I can take the farm truck. It isn’t far.” He rubbed a bit of dirt from the side of the Aston. “Besides, someone’s probably missing this thing. Do I even want to know where you got it?”