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The Great Alone(129)

Author:Kristin Hannah

Large Marge took one look at Leni’s bruised face and squashed nose, at the dried blood on her cheeks, and said, “Son of a bitch.” She pulled Leni into a fierce hug, held on to her.

“It was bad tonight,” Leni said at last, pulling away. She was shaking. Maybe it was finally sinking in. They’d killed him, broken his bones, dropped him in the water …

“Is Cora—”

“He’s dead,” Leni said quietly.

“Thank God,” Large Marge said.

“Mama—”

“Don’t tell me anything. Where is he?”

“Gone.”

“And Cora?”

“At the cabin. You said you’d help us. I guess we need it now to, you know, clean up. But I don’t want to get you in trouble.”

“Don’t worry about me. Go home. I’ll be there in ten minutes.”

Large Marge was already changing her clothes when Leni left the yurt.

Back at the cabin, she found Mama standing away from the pool of blood and gore, staring down at it, her face ravaged by tears, chewing on her torn thumbnail.

“Mama?” Leni said, almost afraid to touch her.

“She’ll help us?”

Before Leni could answer, she saw a spear of light flash across the window, tarnishing it, casting Mama in brightness. Leni saw her mother’s sorrow and regret in sharp relief.

Large Marge pushed open the cabin door, walked inside. Dressed in Carhartt insulated coveralls and her wolverine hat and knee-high mukluks, she took a quick look around, saw the blood and gore and bits of bone.

She went to Mama, touched her gently on the shoulder.

“He went after Leni,” Mama said. “I had to shoot him. But … I shot him in the back, Marge. Twice. He was unarmed. You know what that means.”

Large Marge sighed. “Yeah. They don’t give a shit what a man does or how scared you are.”

“We weighed him down and dropped him in the lake, but … you know how things get found in Alaska. All kinds of things bubble up from the ground during breakup.”

Large Marge nodded.

“They’ll never find him,” Leni said. “We’ll say he ran away.”

Large Marge said, “Leni, go upstairs and pack a small bag. Just enough for overnight.”

“I can help with cleaning,” Leni said.

“Go,” Large Marge said sternly.

Leni climbed up into the loft. Behind her, she heard Mama and Large Marge talking quietly.

Leni chose the book of Robert Service poetry to take with her for tonight. She also took the photograph album Matthew had given her, full now of her favorite pictures.

She pushed them deep into her pack, alongside her beloved camera, and covered it all with a few clothes and then went downstairs.

Mama was wearing Dad’s snow boots, as she walked through the pool of blood, making tracks to the door. At the windowsill, she pressed a bloody hand to the glass.

“What are you doing?” Leni asked.

“Making sure the authorities know your mom and dad were here,” Large Marge answered.

Mama took off Dad’s boots and changed into her own and made more tracks in the blood. Then Mama took one of her shirts and ripped it and dropped it onto the floor.

“Oh,” Leni said.

“This way they’ll know it’s a crime scene,” Large Marge said.

“But we’re going to clean it all up,” Leni said.

“No, baby girl. We have to disappear,” Mama said. “Now. Tonight.”

“Wait,” Leni said. “What? We’re going to say he left us. People will believe it.”

Large Marge and Mama exchanged a sad look.

“People go missing in Alaska all the time,” Leni said, her voice spiking up.

“I thought you understood,” Mama said. “We can’t stay in Alaska after this.”

“What?”

“We can’t stay,” Mama said. Gently but firmly. “Large Marge agrees. Even if we could have argued self-defense, we can’t now. We covered up the crime.”

“Evidence of intent,” Large Marge said. “There is no defense for battered women who kill their husbands. There sure as hell should be. You could assert defense of others, and it might fly. You might be acquitted—if the jury thinks deadly force was reasonable—but do you really want to take that chance? The law isn’t good to victims of domestic abuse.”

Mama nodded. “Marge will leave the truck parked somewhere, with blood smeared across the cab. In a few days, she will report us missing and lead the police to the cabin. They’ll conclude—hopefully—that he killed us both and went into hiding. Marge and Tom will tell the police that he was abusive.”