I talked to Owen, my face against his fur as I walked, although I did’t have a clue what I said. The snow was above my knees but I kept on walking, slowly and painfully breaking a trail to the road.
I have no idea how much time passed. When I heard my name called, I thought hypothermia had caught up with me. I thought I was hallucinating.
Then I heard it again. It wasn’t Justin.
“Here,” I called. Yelling made me almost double over with coughing.
“I’m here.”
“I’m coming,” a voice answered. “Stay there.”
In a moment I could see Marcus coming through the trees, his long legs breaking easily through the snow, his eyes locked on me. If I were hallucinating, he was the best damn hallucination I’d ever had.
“Kathleen, are you all right?” he asked as he got close to me. Was I imagining the slight catch in his voice?
I nodded, because all of a sudden I couldn’t speak. He unzipped his parka and put it around me, zipping it up with my arms tucked inside instead of in the sleeves. It smelled like Marcus and it was so, so warm it made me dizzy.
“What the hell happened?” He bent over and looked into my face.
“Justin . . . Justin killed Agatha,” I said through chattering teeth.
“I know.”
He knew? How did he know?
My hand was still bleeding. I eased the zipper down with my thumb because I wanted to stick my arm out and not get blood all over Marcus’s coat. I watched the blood run down my arm like a tiny river.
He was still talking, but I couldn’t hear him for some reason. It began to get dark from the edges in. Those big hands reached out for me. And that was the last thing I remembered.
I woke up on a stretcher in an ambulance down on the road. I was wrapped in blankets, a paramedic was sitting beside me and a very pissed-off Owen was perched on my stomach. Below the foot of the stretcher, another paramedic was cleaning several long gouges on the back of a police officer’s hand.
The paramedic beside me smiled. “Hi,” he said. He leaned sideways. “Detective Gordon.”
Marcus poked his head into the ambulance.
“Hi,” he said. I was ridiculously happy to see him smiling at me. What the heck had that paramedic given me?
“What did Owen do?” I croaked.
“Don’t worry about that.” He pointed at the police officer. “I told him not to touch the cat.”
The young officer and Owen glared at each other like a couple of grizzled gunfighters.
“Justin had the missing truck,” I said hoarsely.
Marcus nodded. “I know.”
Then I remembered the explosion.
“It’s gone, isn’t it?” I said.
“Yeah, it is, but we’ve got him, anyway.”
I struggled to get up, and the inside of the ambulance swirled like a kaleidoscope. The nice paramedic eased me down, careful to keep his hand away from Owen.
“You got him?”
“We got him.”
I let myself relax against the pillow and felt the papers inside my bra crinkle. Ruby was in the clear, and maybe Harry would find his daughter.
Marcus started telling me how stupid it had been for me to come out here without telling anyone where I was going, but he couldn’t seem to stop himself from smiling every time he looked at me. I closed my eyes.
I didn’t even hear him.
29
They kept me at the hospital overnight, against my objections. Roma came and coaxed Owen into a cat carrier, with some help from Maggie and two Fred the Funky Chickens. Maggie took Owen home and fed both cats. Since I was missing two cans of tuna and a fair amount of peanut butter, I could pretty much guess what they ate.
Everyone just assumed Owen had stowed away in the truck and I hadn’t wanted to leave him there in the cold, so I’d taken him to the cabin with me. Since it was pretty close to the truth I didn’t say anything.
The papers I’d taken from under Justin’s mattress, from Agatha’s envelope, were about the baby. Harry Senior and Junior had come to the hospital and I got to put the documents in the old man’s hands. He hugged me so tightly I squeaked, and he insisted I keep the truck.
It turned out that Marcus had been suspicious of Justin from the moment he’d found out about the half million dollars. It had seemed like too much of a coincidence that Agatha would leave Justin, whom she barely knew, so much money just when he needed it. It was enough to get Marcus to start digging. And he had taken what I’d told him about the other trucks seriously. He’d tracked down the junkyard owner that had sold Sam’s wreck to Justin.
Had Justin been lying when he said he didn’t know about the will? It looked that way. The manager at Agatha’s new lawyer’s office described the young man who’d picked Agatha up. It sounded a lot like Justin. It seemed like he’d somehow been able to capitalize on Agatha’s love for Ruby and convince her that changing her will in his favor was something Ruby wanted.
Had he run her over on purpose? I didn’t like to think about that, but Marcus was certain he had.
I’d expected a long lecture about butting into the case, but all Marcus had said was, “You could have been killed.” That and his troubled expression had made me feel worse than anything else he could have said.
Eric closed the café early on Thursday evening and Maggie canceled tai chi class. We gathered at the restaurant to celebrate Ruby’s freedom. She was still grieving for Agatha and I knew she had some work to do over Justin. I’d seen Eric talking to her, and whatever he’d said seemed to help.
I sat at a table by the window, my bandaged feet on a pillow on the chair. Maggie dropped onto the seat beside me. “You okay?” she asked. She’d been asking that pretty much steadily for the past twenty-four hours.
“I am,” I said. I patted her arm with my good hand. Suspicious over my questions about Hardwood Ridge, Maggie had called Marcus when I didn’t answer my cell phone. Surprisingly, he’d also had a phone call from Peter Lundgren.
“You know, when I saw Marcus coming through the snow, I thought I was hallucinating,” I said.
As if he knew we were talking about him, Marcus turned from where he was standing across the room with Rebecca, smiled and lifted the hot chocolate he was holding in a toast.
I smiled back.
“He likes you,” Maggie said.
“He’s not my type,” I began, but I really couldn’t muster much of an objection.
The door opened and Roma came in. It was a good thing I was sitting down and had my feet up, because she was holding hands with Eddie Sweeney.
The real Eddie Sweeney.
“Am I hallucinating now?” I asked Maggie, as they made their way over to us.
“Nope,” she said smugly, looking like the Cheshire cat.
“You look a lot better,” Roma said. “How’s Owen?”
“He’s fine. Thank you for getting him home.” I looked at Maggie. “You, too.”
“I like the little fur ball,” Maggie said. “He’s got cojones.”
“Kathleen, this is Eddie,” Roma said, turning to smile at the big hockey player beside her.
“Hi, Kathleen,” he said. “It’s nice to meet you.”
“It’s nice to meet you, too,” I said. I couldn’t stop staring at him.
He turned his million-dollar smile on Roma. “Would you like some hot chocolate?”
“Please,” she said.
Eddie looked at Maggie.
“I’m fine,” she said with a little shake of her head. She was enjoying my shock.
“Kathleen?” Eddie asked.
My mouth was hanging open and I had to close it to answer. “Um, yes, please.” I handed him my cup.
“I’ll be right back.”
All three of us watched him go. Eddie looked just as good going as coming.
Roma pulled up a chair and sat with just a tiny sigh of satisfaction. “So, how are you really? How’s your hand?” she asked.