Page 56 of In Her Path

“For five years, I’ve lived with that,” Meredith continued. “Five years of watching you and Paige and Holt go about your business, building your legacies, making your speeches about community and progress. Five years of being your shadow, handling the problems you didn’t want to see, covering mistakes, maintaining the machinery of power while remaining invisible.”

She stood up, moving to stand beside the cellphone, watching as it continued its inexorable countdown: 0:39:59, 0:39:58, 0:39:57...

“You know what the worst part is?” she asked. “You really don’t remember him, do you? He was just one more employee, one more voice you didn’t have time for. But I remember everything about him. The way he organized his notes with colored tabs. How he always brought homemade cookies to our meetings. The scar on his left wrist from when he was sixteen and tried to end things the first time.” She shook her head. “Nobody should be that forgettable.”

Claire made another muffled sound behind the gag, her eyes pleading now.

“Bruce hanged himself at 10:45 in the morning,” Meredith said. “He used a belt and the closet rod in his apartment. It took him seventeen minutes to die.” She gestured to the phone. “That’s why I’ve set the timer. At exactly 10:45, I’m going to kick this stool out from under you. The rope is carefully measured. It will break your neck immediately. You won’t suffer … like he did.”

Terror flashed across Claire’s face. Her body tensed, the stool wobbling dangerously beneath her.

“Your death will be different from Paige’s and Holt’s,” Meredith continued. “I removed their tongues because that was symbolic—an eye for an eye, a voice for a voice. They silenced Bruce with their words, so I silenced them permanently. But you...” She leaned closer. “You silenced him with your authority. With your position. With the weight of the office you hold. So, your punishment is different.”

The timer continued its count: 0:38:47, 0:38:46, 0:38:45...

“By now, the police have found the evidence I left in your office,” Meredith said. “The ice pick. The tongues. The security footage showing someone in your clothes entering both crime scenes. They think you killed Paige and Holt. They think you’re on the run.” She smiled. “Your body won’t ever be found. So, everyone will believe you fled Trentville, took on a different name to escape justice. Your legacy will be destruction. Your name will be synonymous with betrayal and murder.”

Claire shook her head frantically, the movement causing the stool to rock. A small sound of fear escaped from behind the gag.

“I’ve planned this well,” Meredith said. “The house belongs to my late uncle, Harlan Soll. No one knows I have the key. No one knows I come here. I hid your car deep in the trees half a mile down the road, and I’ll drive my own car home. I burned your clothes in my fireplace.”

She glanced at the timer.

“In just a little while, it will all be over,” Meredith told Claire with a cordial smile.

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

The brass button that Jenna held in her palm was tarnished and warped, but unmistakably part of the outfit Mayor Simmons had worn at the council meeting. She could see the other buttons still in the fireplace, their distinctive patterns partially visible among the charred remains of the Mayor's suit.

This changed everything—and confirmed what Jenna had been trying not to believe.

Frank’s face had gone pale. He shook his head slowly, as if trying to dislodge the idea. “No, this is impossible. This can’t be right. I’ve known Meredith since she was a child. And she’s worked for Claire for years.”

"The evidence is right there," Jake replied, using his phone to get a close-up of the button that Jenna was holding. "These sure look like buttons from the Mayor's suit. And the timing fits—she could have burned the clothes this morning before coming to work."

“Think about it, Frank,” Jenna added. “Who has keys to the Mayor’s office? Who could have planted the evidence we found there?”

"Meredith," Jake answered the questions for them. "And the apparent surgical skills could have been mostly patience and determination."

Frank spoke sharply. “Then where is she now? And where’s Claire? What if somebody else took both of them?” Then he ran a hand over his face, the lines around his eyes deepening. “But you’re right about this. I know it now. I just didn’t want to admit it.”

Jake posed a practical question, “So how do we find them?”

Jenna turned toward her sister, who had drifted to the corner of the living room. Piper’s eyes had that faraway look again, her head tilted slightly as if listening to something only she could hear.

“Piper?” Jenna asked. “What is it?”

Piper’s voice came out soft and distant. “Old wooden walls, nobody lives there now.”

Frank straightened abruptly, his eyes widening. "What is it, Piper?" He went to her and took both of her hands. "Where is it?"

Piper shook her head. She appeared about to cry. “I don’t know.”

Jenna was about to intervene when Frank spoke more gently. "You're doing fine, Piper. You're helping us. Are you hearing something about a house?"

Piper closed her eyes and appeared to be listening. Then her face brightened. “Meredith has returned to a family home.”

"I knew you could do it," Frank said as he patted her gently on the shoulder. "That would be Harlan Soll's place," he said. "North of town. Meredith's uncle, Harlan, used to live there. The place has been empty since he died."