Expecting to Die

EPILOGUE
Two months later
A
s she stared at her newborn sleeping peacefully in his crib, Pescoli couldn’t
believe that her maternity leave was nearly over. Soon, within the next few
weeks, she would have to decide whether to leave the department, turn in her
badge and give up law enforcement, or return to being a homicide detective,
which was far more than an eight-to-five job.
As moonlight danced through the open French doors and the hint of autumn
rode in on a night breeze, she picked him up and held him close. Her family had
expanded and changed. Not only did this little guy need her, but there were other
considerations as well.
Bianca.
Ever since she’d returned from her ordeal at the hands of Tophman and Bell,
she’d been a changed girl, more like a woman, one who had taken another’s life.
Kywin Bell had died from his injuries, which were all consistent with Bianca’s
story of her capture and escape.
Bryant Tophman, who had been found hiding in the forest by Carlton Jeffe’s
drone that same morning, had been brought to justice by the Big Foot Believers.
Jeffe and Fred Nesmith had delivered him to Alvarez at the station. Tophman
was now behind bars, awaiting trial. His story was that Kywin had killed Destiny
Montclaire when she’d told him about the baby, but Pescoli wasn’t sure that
Tophman wasn’t involved. Either way, he was facing a long term in jail for his
part in covering up the homicide as well as selling all kinds of drugs found in a
private stash at his home at the church parsonage. Not to mention the kidnapping
and attempted homicide of Bianca. Janie Tophman had quit saying he was a
“good boy.” Her tune had changed to “Bryant has finally found Jesus.” Pescoli
wasn’t betting on it.
Kip Bell was facing charges for his part of the scheme, in which Lindsay
Cronin had died. He’d finally admitted that she’d known about Kywin and
Destiny, that Destiny had never considered him her “protector” but had been
afraid of him as well as excited by him and wanted to get back at cheating
Donny Justison. She hadn’t planned it, but she’d ended up getting pregnant.
Lindsay had suspected that Kywin had killed her, and Kip had wanted to make

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certain his brother didn’t go to prison. After Kywin’s death, he’d opened up
about knowing that his brother had, indeed, killed Destiny and left her in the
creek. Kip hadn’t known he’d placed her body there and it was just damned bad
luck that his prank had gone so bad and he’d chased Bianca straight into the
girl’s body.
The only true winner in all of this mess was Barclay Sphinx, whose reality
show had gained more than its share of ill-gained publicity. The first episode of
Big Foot Territory: Montana! had aired, and the whole family had watched it
together, though Bianca without much interest. The series was still in production,
though rumor had it that it might move north of Missoula for the feuding
families, and the reward and trailer that Barclay Sphinx had promised never
came to fruition. There had been no need. Pescoli had heard that the Big Foot
Believers had enjoyed a surge in membership. Mayor Justison, relieved her son
wasn’t a murderer, was satisfied that she’d put Grizzly Falls on the map and Big
Foot Daze had been a roaring success. Pescoli hadn’t participated; she’d spent
her time here, at their home, with her newborn and other two children.
Tucker was thriving, eating and sleeping and offering up baby smiles, but
Bianca was a worry.
Bianca swore she would never forgive Luke despite his repeated attempts at
trying to contact her. She didn’t want him put in jail, but she refused to deal with
him. Though Bianca refused to press charges, the DA and Regan were putting
together a case. A strong case. It was only a matter of time. As for Michelle?
Who cared? She and Luke were probably divorcing even though her white-hot
affair with Barclay Sphinx was rumored to have lost steam.
Pescoli just wished she would disappear.
It was her daughter who concerned her. Bianca had lost interest in school, this,
her senior year of high school. Once driven, she now seemed lost. Fortunately,
she’d agreed to see a psychologist, but her fun-loving, all-about-me spoiled
teenager had disappeared, become a shell of herself, spent her time reading or
online. Pescoli couldn’t remember the last time Bianca had gone out or even
bothered putting on lipstick. Yeah, she was lost.
She needed a mother. Full-time. As did Tucker.
What to do?