"Don't look now," Guzman said, "but the last piece of the puzzle just walked in."
Marianna's manner was stiff, her pallor ghostly. Tess couldn't help thinking of Boo Radley, lured out of his house to save the lives of the two children he had come to love.
Except Boo wasn't as creepy as Marianna.
"You wanted to see me, Sergeant Guzman?"
"What I really wanted was for you to come down here and thank someone."
"For saving Emmie's life? Yes, I am grateful-"
Guzman held up a hand. "No more bullshit. After twenty-one years, could we just stop with all your bullshit? I mean, sure, you can thank Tess for keeping your goddaughter from going airborne if you like. But I think you owe her a bigger debt for finally closing the case in which you were the number one suspect."
It was Tess who looked at Guzman in surprise, not Marianna. She merely sniffed the air and made a face, as if she had detected something distasteful.
"All those times I asked you over the years, and you always said you didn't know anything. Always said there was nothing going on, that it was just cheap gossip. You sat on the motive for your own husband's death for two decades. Why?"
"I had my…suspicions," Marianna said stiffly. "I am not one to repeat innuendoes and malicious stories."
"Well, here's my suspicion. You went to Espejo Verde that night. You were going to have it out with your husband and your best friend, for cheating on you. But they were beyond hearing anything when you got there, right?"
Marianna had refused to sit down, so she was still standing above them, hands folded primly over the purse she carried, her face determinedly blank.
"I went to see if something could be worked out. Lollie tired of men easily. She would have tired of Frank, too. There was no reason to take him, if she was going to end up throwing him over. If it was money she wanted, a chance to start a restaurant somewhere else, away from Gus, I could give her that. I just didn't want to give her my husband. But Lollie was already…gone when I arrived."
"She was fucking dead," Guzman said. "Could you, just once in your life, use the real words for things?"
Marianna didn't try to disguise her contempt for this man. She might speak in euphemisms, Tess thought, but deep down she was a mean and contemptuous bigot. For her, class distinctions were more important than racial ones. She hated the fact that a cop was speaking to her this way.
"It was dark, and I tripped over Lollie's body when I came through the door. Hers or Pilar's, I was never sure. I know I came up with blood on me-on my hands and knees, my suit. I went into the kitchen, and that's when I saw Frank."
Tears had started down her face, eroding the top layer of makeup. She didn't seem to notice she was crying. "Someone hurts you and you say to yourself, ‘I wish they were dead,' and then you see what dead is. And you feel guilty, as if your wishes made it so. I don't know how long I stood there before I realized Emmie was crying, in the little room off the kitchen. She was wet. I changed her diaper. That must have been when the blood got on her. She was scared and nervous-she clung to me, she was just a little girl, left alone in the dark, and no one had come as she cried and cried. I got her back to sleep and then I left. An hour later, after I had changed and was on my way to Gus's house for the party, I called the police from a pay phone and told them I could hear a baby crying at the restaurant."
Tess sat there, trying to absorb all this, Marianna had found the bodies, Marianna had left the blood on Emmie. The little girl had not seen anything, she had no hidden memories to recover. Everything Emmie thought she knew about blood and death had come straight from her own imagination.
"I could have used that information," Guzman said. "Twenty-one years ago, ten years ago, even last week-I could have done something with that."
"But I didn't really know anything. It never occurred to me Gus was behind the killings, I honestly thought it was a robbery. And if it had gotten out about Frank and Lollie…well."
"What?" Guzman asked.
"People would have talked."
Tess rubbed her eyes, wishing Marianna would be gone when she opened them again. She knew pride could make people do stupid things-it had kept her, for example, from doing anything when Crow's postcard had first arrived. A week had gone by from the day of that first veiled plea for help and her decision to pick up the phone and call his mother. If she had started looking for him sooner, would things have turned out any differently? Where would she be? Where would he be?
A doctor was walking toward them down the hall, still in surgical scrubs. Did Tess only imagine it, or was he shaking his head ever so slightly from side to side?
"Miss Monaghan?"
"Yeah," Guzman answered for her.
"He's conscious, but he's very weak. You can see him"-a warning look for Guzman-"but the officers aren't to speak to him, or try to get him to speak."
Tess jumped to her feet, then wished she hadn't. What with giving blood and boycotting Guzman's cookies, the sudden movement made her woozy. She was going to black out, and she was furious. Her next-to-last conscious thought was that Crow was conscious, and now she wasn't, and wasn't there some weird symmetry in that? She reeled backward, into Guzman's arms, just like that stupid touchy-feely trust exercise. She fell, insisting to herself that she wasn't so foolish as to trust anyone ever again. Except, perhaps, Crow. It was just gravity, she told herself. Just goddamn gravity, up to its usual tricks. She was falling, helpless, incapable of doing anything about it.
That was her last conscious thought.
Epilogue
Ialways loved him,
I was just waiting for him to figure that he loved me. It finally happened the night of the Coronation, when I was presented as a Princess of the Court of Shattered Illusions. Well, maybe that wasn't the name, I don't remember everything. But I remember the important things. I said to him, just before my turn: "I'm not going to take your arm." He didn't understand at first. "What?" "I'm not going to take your arm. When I do the curtsey. I'm going to get up by myself. They applaud louder if you do it by yourself." You see, the curtsey we do is really more of a bow, extending one leg all the way out behind, while practically touching one's forehead to the floor. And the dresses are so heavy it's hard to stand. Most of the girls need their escort's arm to get back up. But I didn't, did I? I got the loudest applause of all, and when I stood up, I saw in Clay's eyes that I was a princess to him at last.
There was a party after. It was at the Maguires' house in Monte Vista, a place we knew, we had grown up playing with their kids. The yard was huge, and it was full of secret places, places where women in high heels and men in pumps weren't likely to go. It had rained all week, and the ground was soft. I slipped off my shoes and took his hand and led him into one of those secret corners, a place where the Maguire kids liked to build forts, screened by the pecans and the poplars and the cottonwoods. I kissed him. He was scared at first, and then he didn't want to stop. The old folks band was playing some song. "I Concentrate on You." It would have been enough, just to kiss him. But I took off my dress-not my princess dress now, just an ordinary dress from Neiman Marcus-and hung it on the tree. "What are you doing?" he asked. "If we don't take our clothes off, they'll get dirty," I told him. He had been with only one girl-this stupid, bookish grind. She didn't count. I had been with other boys, but they didn't count. Now I had him, I knew he wouldn't want anyone but me. All I had to do was wait, and see if he would come to me, on his own. Two nights later, he did. He came to my room in the middle of the night, but he didn't dare make love to me there, in the house, where Gus might hear us. We went to the garage and climbed into the old Lincoln, like two teenagers who didn't have anywhere else to go. If you think about it, we were two teenagers who didn't have anywhere else to go.