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Another silence. Kate said, “I was thinking before what a perfect position Len Dreyer was in to ferret out Park dirt.” She gave a humorless laugh. “In the end that’s exactly what he did. He was rototilling the garden and up come the bodies.” Her brow wrinkled. “He was out there twice, though.”

“Out where?”

“Out to Virgil’s, last summer. Once for the rototilling, and once to help Virgil dig the foundation to a new greenhouse.”

He nodded. “Yeah, he didn’t tell Virgil right away that he’d found Virgil and Telma’s little cemetery. He waited until he had a plan, and when Virgil hired him back to help on the greenhouse, he laid it out for him.”

“Blackmail?”

“Yeah. Not a lot of money, but steady. What Dreyer didn’t know was that Virgil had a plan, too. I’m not sure he decided to kill Dreyer until the glacier offered him a place to hide the body.”

She pushed her coffee away. “Where is Telma?”

“She’s in API, undergoing a psych eval.”

“And Virgil?

“At Cook Inlet Pre-Trial. He’s not crazy, he’s just homicidal. Which reminds me. How the hell did he get both you and Mutt?”

They both looked at the big gray half-husky, half-malamute, chin resting on her god’s shoe, eyes closed in an expression of perfect bliss. “I don’t know, exactly. I turned Mutt loose to forage. The next thing I remember was looking at the side of a shovel coming at me, and that’s all I remember until I woke up here.”

“It was a miracle he didn’t shoot you both,” Jim said savagely.

“Why didn’t he?”

“Beats the hell out of me. I would have.” He glared at her. “I think it was because he forgot to load the shotgun after he killed Dandy. Wasn’t used to killing people, I don’t think, although we haven’t dug up his whole homestead-who knows, there might be a dozen more bodies out there.”

Kate shifted beneath the sheet that was all she could bear in the way of covers. It was too hot in this damn hospital. She longed for the cool, the peace, and the solitude of her cabin. The easy tears came back when she remembered it no longer existed. She battled them back. “Thanks, by the way.”

“For what?”

“You did the CPR. Johnny told me.”

He shrugged. “And then you puked all over me.”

“Sorry about that,” she said, a little nettled.

“Yeah, well. You brought yourself back, really. Were you conscious when he dumped you in the ground?”

“Barely. Enough to pretend to be dead. I managed to scoop out a little breathing space beneath my nose without him seeing, before I passed out.”

“So you’ll be able to testify at trial.”

“Bet your ass,” she said.

“Good. Although it may not come to trial.”

“Did Virgil confess?”

“Oh hell yes,” Jim said, mouth compressed in a firm line. “He’s confessed to burying the babies after his wife had them and then smothered them in her arms. He’s confessed to killing Len Dreyer aka Leon Duff}‘ and hiding his body in Grant Glacier. He’s confessed to running Dreyer aka Duffy’s truck into a lake on his property, from where we have now recovered it. He’s confessed to burning down your cabin, and he’s confessed how much of a shock it was to see you alive the next morning. He’s confessed to killing Dandy Mike because Dandy just got too darn nosy, poking his nose into other people’s business, and he’s confessed to trying to kill you. And Mutt. He’s real sorry about Mutt, by the way. He wanted me to make sure you knew.”

“Are you okay?” she said.

“Oh, I’m fine. I’m peachy keen, I’m jim-you should pardon the expression-dandy, I’m good to go. Why do you ask?”

“No reason,” she said, wary now.

“I’m sorry,” he said.

“Okay,” she said.

“No, I’m not.” He rose to pace. Mutt, dislodged, uttered a protest, which was ignored.

There wasn’t much room for more than two strides, so he turned a lot. Mutt and Kate watched him, heads swiveling like they were at a tennis match. “Virgil has also confessed to loving his wife. That’s it, that’s his sole reason for two murders and three attempts. He loved his wife and he didn’t want her to go to jail for murdering her babies. The thing is, they were his babies, too. And they wanted children, he told me so.”

“There is something called postpartum depression,” Kate said.

He waved an impatient hand. “Yeah, yeah, I’ve read the cases, there have been enough of them in the news lately, and I’ve responded to more than one SIDS death. I could understand Telma having postpartum depression, what I can’t understand is her having it five times with five babies and her husband standing by for burial detail every time without turning a hair.”

“You think he didn’t want them? You think he maybe killed them?”

He shook his head and came to rest in front of the window. Looking down at the parking lot, he said in a quieter tone, “No. I think she killed them and I think he buried them. You know, Kate, I have seen some shit in my time. Cops get their faces rubbed in the worst of human nature every goddamn day of our working lives, and I am sorry as hell to report that a lot of the time it has something to do with somebody loving somebody else. Hell of a testament to the power of love, don’t you think?” He turned to face her. “I asked him. Why, Virgil, I said. Why did you do it? I love my Telma, he says back to me. Jesus. He loved his wife, was all he could say. Well, the hell with that. Kate?”

“Jim?” she said, still wary.

“I’ve been chasing you.”

“I’ve noticed,” she said cautiously.

“Lately, it hasn’t seemed all that one-sided.”

“Lately, it hasn’t been,” she said.

“It’s over,” he said.

“I beg your pardon?”

“I’m getting off this ride,” he told her. He picked up his ball cap and yanked it down over his eyes. “If this is what love’s all about, I don’t want any part of it.” He paused. “I’m sorry if I led you on, made you imagine there was any more to it than a good time.”

She looked at him with eyes a little wider than normal but otherwise with no expression.

“I take full responsibility,” he said doggedly. “I don’t know, maybe I just wanted you because Jack had you and I couldn’t. And then Jack was gone and I could. I’ve always wanted you, hell, you have to know that. But you’re a serious woman, and you tend to be with one man at a time. That’s not me. I’m not that man.”

He looked at her, clearly bracing himself for an attack. She took a long, slow, careful breath, inhale, exhale, and felt a triumph so fierce well up inside her breast that it was hard to speak around it. She made the effort, and managed a mild, neutral, “If that’s how you feel.”

“That’s how I feel.” He would make it be how he felt if it was the last thing he ever did.

“Okay,” she said, praying he was out of the room before she burst out laughing.

“Love doth make fools of us all,” he added.

“Huh?” Kate said.

“Yip?” Mutt said.

“Don’t it,” he said, and the door swung shut behind him.

She waited until she heard his footsteps recede down the hall before lying back on the bed. She stared at the ceiling, and the laughter that welled up was so loud and lasted so long that the nurse came down from her station to see what was causing Kate’s heart rate to speed up on the monitor. When she saw the tears on Kate’s face, she rushed forward, all concern.

Kate waved her off. “I’m fine, believe me, I’ve never been better.” She beamed and scrubbed her cheeks. Her head still hurt but otherwise she felt fine, just fine. “All men are morons.”

The nurse’s face cleared, but she remained cautious. “That would be a given. Still. Can’t live with ‘em, can’t live without ’em.”