He started awake from that dream and had no idea what time it was, but he noticed that daylight had given way to night outside the window. Tarla was gone, at least for the moment. Maggie had taken her place in the chair by the bed, and she was digging into a bag for McDonald’s French fries.
“Hey,” she said. “How are you feeling?”
“Sliced and diced.”
“Well, you are still the most handsome car bomb survivor I’ve ever seen.”
“Thank you.”
“Your mother said to assure you she would be back momentarily.”
“What a relief,” Cab replied.
“I hear she’s going to be staying with you in Naples,” Maggie added with a snicker.
“So it seems.”
“She says Lala volunteered, too. You can’t go anywhere without attractive women around, can you?”
“That’s true. Present company included.”
“Very smooth,” Maggie replied. She shoved a French fry in his mouth, and he swallowed it.
“How are you?” Cab asked.
“Indestructible. Which is more than can be said for my Avalanche. My insurance agent couldn’t believe it when I called him. I’m not exactly his favorite customer to begin with.”
“Did you find out who made the bomb?”
“We’re still following the trail. Mo made several calls to anonymous numbers. Security cams in my parking garage caught a van with stolen Wisconsin plates coming in overnight. That was probably when they planted it.”
“I haven’t had a chance to thank Stride for saving my life,” Cab said.
“Well, don’t,” she said with a grin. “It’ll just feed his ego. By the way, Tarla met Stride and pronounced him ‘tasty.’”
Cab shook his head. “That’s my mother.”
They were quiet for a while, sitting in the hospital room. Outside, it was snowing again, with the flakes landing and melting against the glass. He was beginning to wonder if it ever stopped snowing up here and if winter ever ended.
“My offer still stands,” he said. “About Florida. Come with me.”
“I’m flattered, but no. I’m a Minnesota girl. Besides, it looks like Lala wants back in your life.”
“She and I are always complicated. What about you? Did you tell Troy about the bomb?”
“Yes, and he was very sweet and very concerned. Actually, I had dinner with him and the girls last night. They’ve been bugging him about getting a dog for months, so I thought they might like to meet Lori Fulkerson’s Yorkshire terrier. He needs a new home. It was love at first sight.”
“Dinner,” Cab said. “That sounds promising.”
“It’s a start. I’m still not the marrying kind, but Troy says he’s okay with that for now.”
They heard a chorus of laughter from the hallway outside Cab’s room. He looked through the doorway to see Tarla taking a selfie with two of the nurses. “She’s back,” he said.
“I guess that’s my cue,” Maggie replied.
She stood up from the chair and looked down at him. They didn’t know what to say to each other. He’d always found that good-byes were more awkward when you knew what someone looked like naked.
“Better go get yourself a new Avalanche,” he said.
“Better go get yourself a new Corvette.”
“I’m not very good with endings. Will I see you again?”
“Oh, I’m pretty hard to get rid of,” Maggie assured him. “You never know where I’ll turn up.”
She bent down over the bed and gave Cab a kiss that smelled of perfume and French fries. It was soft and perfect and lasted a long time. She wiped her mouth with a little bit of embarrassment and then wiggled her fingers at him as she left the room.
“Was that Tarla Bolton?” Aimee Bowe asked Serena, sounding starstruck. She pushed herself up with a painful effort and tried to see into the hospital corridor.
“Yes, that’s her,” Serena replied. “Her son is a detective. He was helping us make the case against Dean Casperson.”
“I’d love to meet her. She was one of my role models when I was getting started.”
“I’m sure that can be arranged,” Serena said. “I don’t think Tarla is much of a wallflower.”
Aimee smiled from the bed, but just the effort of raising herself up had weakened her. The doctors were optimistic about her recovery, but she had a long way to go. She wasn’t leaving Duluth anytime soon. She’d undergone two surgeries since they’d rescued her from the cage, and the combination of bullet wounds and hypothermia had left her fragile. Serena also was concerned about emotional damage.
“Lori Fulkerson pled guilty to the assault on you,” Serena told her. “She gave a full confession about the earlier murders, too. She’ll be behind bars for the rest of her life.”
The news didn’t seem to give Aimee any comfort. “It sounds strange, but I feel a little sorry for her. No matter what she did.”
“A lot of us have bad childhoods,” Serena replied. “At some point, you have to decide for yourself who you really are. If you let it make you evil, that’s on you.”
Aimee nodded. “What about Dean?”
“The prosecutors say if he ever gets out of prison, he’ll be an old man. He won’t have a dime left from all the lawsuits. I hope you don’t feel sorry for him.”
“No.”
Serena nodded. “Me neither.”
“The only thing I wish about Dean is that I’d said something when I had the chance. I let him get away with it.”
“You weren’t the only one. He and Mo intimidated a lot of victims. And they killed others.”
Aimee took Serena’s hand in a weak grip. “I’ve only known you a short time, but you’ve saved my life twice. Thank you.”
“I’m relieved you’re okay.”
“Can I ask you something? You felt me calling to you when I was in the box, didn’t you?”
Serena found herself at a loss for words. She didn’t know how to explain what she’d felt as she hunted for Aimee.
“It’s okay to admit it even if you don’t understand it,” Aimee went on. “I told you, I don’t understand how it works myself. I just knew if there was one person who could rescue me, it was you. So I tried to reach out to you.”
“I wish I could say I believe in those things,” Serena replied, “but I’m still not sure. It doesn’t matter. What matters is that we found you.”
She checked her watch and saw that it was getting late.
“I have to meet Stride,” she told Aimee. “I’ll be back tomorrow.”
“Of course.”
“I’ll send Tarla your way,” she added.
“Thanks.”
Serena went to the hospital room door, but then she turned back. She returned to the bed and said, “I do have one question, Aimee.”
“Sure.”
“You told me that you were sure Art Leipold wasn’t guilty.”
“That’s what I felt,” Aimee said.
“Did you also know about Lori Fulkerson?”
“What do you mean?”
“Lori kept saying she could feel you inside her head. She kept talking about you being able to see what she’d done. Like you could look inside her and know she was guilty. I was wondering if that was true. Did you get a bad feeling from Lori Fulkerson even before she abducted you?”
“You don’t believe that, Serena. That’s not who you are. So why ask?”
“Lori believed it,” Serena said. “So I was curious.”
Aimee looked away at the darkness and shook her head. A smile played across her lips and then went away. “Well, the irony is, whatever Lori felt was all in her own head. She made that happen, not me. Maybe her guilt finally caught up with her, because I didn’t suspect a thing. I didn’t feel anything from Lori Fulkerson at all.”