"I wasn't actually asking," Lowell said.
"No, I figured you weren't."
I'd helped to put an innocent man inside the perverted corridors of Panecraft, and had been forced to watch him slowly dying in sorrow because I hadn't had enough faith in him to help out when I should have.
Shit.
Anna knew what was coming and said, "Oh, Lord."
I spun and caught Lowell in the stomach with my left. It was like smashing my knuckles into a marble statue. He looked more startled than hurt, but dropped back a few steps with his mouth open and raising the gun. Nick had already vanished. Lowell let out a short bark of disgust, his bunched muscles shifted beneath his uniform, and I wondered if I should shut my eyes or take it like a man. I shut my eyes. He hit me only twice, but it hurt worse than when Sparky had kicked the crap out of me all over the place. I went to my knees trying to suck wind and retch at the same time. It was like that for a minute, and then my mind whirled pleasantly for a moment and I felt warm and comfortable. I screamed from the bottom of my nuts when he jerked my wounded right arm, snapped the cuffs on me and dragged me across the yard and threw me into the back of his parked police car without a word. I sat staring over at the dead chauffeur's head lolling against his steering wheel until the ambulance and other police arrived. Lowell took me to jail without a word.
Five days later I sat in a hospital bed with my good arm cuffed to the railing, trying to think of something to do besides play with the tiny cups of mashed potatoes and gelatin. Sheriff Broghin came in and took a slow gander at me. He seemed highly pleased with himself that the wheel of our situations had turned again. The last time I'd seen him he'd been vomiting on Alice Conway's floor. Now I was under arrest for obstruction of justice.
He said, "Lowell had a reason to put you in here, but he wouldn't give me all the details, and now he's changed his story some."
"When did he do that?" I asked.
Broghin smiled and his enormous gut shook with the force of the laughter he continued to swallow. He took deep breaths and let out little sniffles of giggles. "Two days ago. So I'm forced to let you go, you pain in the ass." He grinned as he uncuffed me, and leaned so far over the bed I had to pull back or be smothered. "I'll tell you this though, Jonny Kendrick. You pissed off about the only good friend you had, and he's truly a man to be reckoned with. I've got the feeling that the next time you tangle with him he's really going to put the serious hurt on you." He picked up the little cups and headed for the door. "Now you just lie there and reflect on that some."
I did.
The cops finally got the full story and released Li Tai late the following afternoon after an interpreter flew up from Manhattan and translated the woman's entire twelve-year-long imprisonment, as well as her preceding years as Theodore Harnes' mistress. Since she didn't understand English, and never spoke, Dr. Brennan Brent had allowed her to participate in all activities, despite her constant attempts at escape. The guards called her Rapunzel because of her long hair and flair for pleating together ropes in the recreation room which she had at various times used to attempt climbing from her window, strangling Brent, and hanging herself.
Anna, Oscar Killion, and I sat at her kitchen table eating breakfast. Even before Broghin stole my hospital food I'd been starving. Oscar had his arm around me and occasionally tugged me to him during his sporadic but generous fits of emotion.
"She's got a case that will net her millions," Oscar said. "The way these reporters are trolling around the Grove, we're going to be seeing her on talk shows for a long time to come. She'll be the queen of Hong Kong when she gets back!"
"If she does indeed return," Anna said. I noticed the stiffness in her shoulder was nearly gone already as she speared more sausages and placed them on Oscar's plate. "Apparently Li Tai has always wanted to see America, and despite her awful travails she has never let Theodore Harnes steal that passion from her. Her first stop will be Disneyland."
"I've never been there, either," I said. "What's going to happen to Harnes?"
Oscar jabbed loudly at his food, and Anna's lips drew into a pale line. "He's gone, of course. Fled the country during the night. His lawyers were extremely effective, and there truly isn't much concrete evidence against him. Not until the bodies of his victims are exhumed."
"I was hoping he'd wind up in Panecraft."
She smiled. "Yes, poetic justice would be so fulfilling.”
“And Jocelyn?" I asked. I knew the answer but didn't want to know it.
"He took her with him."
"Damn it."
My grandmother put her arm around me even as Oscar did the same, and years spun from the three of us. I thought they might elope one day soon, on a gorgeous morning like this one.
SEVENTEEN
Katie and I watched Crummler dance with Anubis among the headstones.
They were both wild and happy and clung to each other like long-lost friends. Every so often one of them would race past us or flail over an exposed root and take a head dive, and the other would pounce. "I am Crummler!" Crummler would announce giddily. "I am here!" His beard and wiry hair would be back in no time, the stubble already thickening. He snapped his fingers rapidly and jitterbugged along, trembling with his nerve endings burning again. "I have fought brave battles! I am home!"
"Yes, you are."
Anubis led him away in a game of tag and Katie asked, "They let him out like that, even in the condition he was in?"
"The administration isn't going to cause any fuss, not with all the troubles they're in for now."
"Did his brother say goodbye to him?"
"I'm not certain, but I tend to think so."
Not far away Keaton Wallace stood by the grave of Marie Harnes, overseeing the exhumation. He already appeared tired after finishing up the autopsy on the poisoned chauffeur.
The wind brushed Katie's hair against her jade eyes and I stroked it back into place. "Lowell will forgive you.”
“No, he won't."
"In time."
I shook my head. "Not until he captures Nick Crummler.”
“In time he will."
"Will you marry me?" I asked. She stared at me and slowly blinked. "Sorry, I didn't mean for that to sound so non sequitur."
She smiled, but I could see a faint cast of bitterness edging her lips. She could read my heart, my love, and my fear. "We've got time for that, Jon. We can wait another few months, or longer, maybe even until after the baby is born. If we still want to go through with it."
"Or we can get married now," I said.
She pressed her chest to mine and said, "So you actually want to move back to Felicity Grove?"
"Yes."
"And buy a house? Take care of a yard with a gigantic, gnarled ancient tree and an old tire swing?"
"Yes."
"Did I ever tell you about Ronnie Helmstead, my first boyfriend?"
"Talk about non sequitur," I said. "Yeah, the guy with acne."
"Not acne, he broke out in nervous rashes. He liked this cheerleader, used to date her behind my back and tell me that he was working late at his father's VCR repair shop. He'd get hives, turn crimson, and start pouring sweat and scratching himself everywhere." I just looked at her. "Let me tell you, you're a worse liar than him, Jon."
I'd have to practice my poker face a little more. "You're what's most important to me."
"And you are to me," she said. "I know you feel pressured."
"It's not that . . ."
"I know you do. I love you, but I still think we need some more time to get used to how things are going along."
I'd first met her when we were seven or eight, and she came out from San Diego to visit with her aunt, Margaret Gallagher, and she'd forced me to eat one of those Easy Bake Oven kiddy cakes. Despite only knowing her a couple of months in our adult lives, I understood I'd love her like this for the rest of our lives. I needed something, but it wasn't time. She needed that.