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check on the location. The woods were dark now, although a faint twilight glow was still visible through the trees when he looked up. He was nearly back to the spot where he dug when he stumbled over a surface tree root. He fell forward and the body pitched to the ground as his arm lost its grip. The flashlight flew from his left hand. He heard a crack as it landed against a rock and everything turned black. He was engulfed in darkness.
    He scrambled about in a panic. The bag was still there, just to his right, but he needed light to finish what he started. He had to finish. He couldn’t just stop. He had to protect himself. There was no other way. He crawled to the left and stretched his hand in an arc that swept up branches, pebbles, twigs and pine needles. He kept on with his search. The flashlight couldn’t have fallen too far. A tightness rose in his throat. He was about to stop and cry when his fingers touched a cylinder. He pulled it forward and sat up. He did the first thing he thought of. He shook the flashlight. Nothing except a rattle. Loose, he thought. Something was loose. He slid his right hand to the lens cover and slowly tried to turn the end that emitted the light. It moved. Nearly two turns later the light jumped out at him. He saw everything, the silver bag that rested on the ground, and only a few yards away, a mound of dirt that surrounded a trench.
    He stood, but was so dizzy with relief he stumbled over the dark bag. When he rose again he began to drag the bag forward with one hand. There was no other way. He didn’t have the energy to lift her anymore. He was nearly at the hole when the bag snagged on a root.He heard a rip and focused the light downward. He saw a patch of pink that surrounded the partially torn-off white heel of a shoe.
    He propped the light on the top of a log and slid the bag into the hole as gently as possible. There was no time for ceremony, but he would say something for her every day as long as he lived. He filled the hole and raked the ground over with pine needles and twigs, gathered his tools and made his way back to the parking area. As he closed the trunk over the shovel and rake, he saw a crescent moon rise above the trees to the east.
    As soon as he entered the car, the rearview mirror glared back at him with a red slash across his cheek. His face and arms were covered with soil. Bits of twigs and damp leaves clung to his shirt and pants. He checked his watch. There was barely enough time to get home to shower and change before he needed to meet Sara. He was already moving westward, toward his home, every mile confirming his innocence, when he stretched his right arm forward and opened the glove compartment to replace the flashlight. That’s when he saw the phone. Heidi’s cell phone was still there, a small gray oval he had yet to eliminate. He rechecked his watch. There wasn’t time to dispose of it the way he wanted. He laid it on the seat next to him. There would be time to do it properly tomorrow morning. There was no need to rush.
    He opened the window and swallowed cool air. He started to relax as he neared the street where he needed to turn to reach his house. That’s when the cell phone began to ring.

CHAPTER 3
    He stays in Amagansett and waits for the police to investigate. He has only had a few brief conversations with Sara and has not yet been back to the city, but she’s indicated that his banishment may only be temporary. All he can do is wait, yet the Heidi episode weighs him down so heavily that he barely thinks of anything else.
    The police visit isn’t a surprise. Posner has thought about the possibility since it all happened. At one point, however, some four weeks after the accident, for that is what he had come to call Heidi’s death in his own mind, without waver or compromise, he almost believes that there will be no investigation. He has mentally willed himself into anonymity with the same absurdity that one buys a lottery ticket and