I saw the blast more than felt it. A small flash of light. I remember thinking of the brilliant shade of yellow the sun turns as it dips its hazy edge into the sea, and as my head hit the pavement, I thought of Cosmo. It’s funny how the mind works. I thought to myself, Now I’ll never catch him.
I lay there on my back and listened to the clicking of Mr. Silverthorn’s footsteps receding in the distance, and then shortly thereafter the low rumble of a car starting up and speeding out of the alley.
I waited.
There wasn’t any pain, just a vague and distant ache in the back of my head where it hit the concrete, and then a strange feeling of pressure on my sternum. The pressure shifted slightly, and I opened my eyes. At that point, I was certain it was a dream. There, in the center of my chest, was a big fluffy orange cat, sitting primly and looking down on me with a slightly curious expression in his deep green eyes.
I whispered, “Cosmo?”
He purred gently and his eyes narrowed, as if to say, “Pleased to meet you.”
A tiny smile played across my lips. “Likewise.”
As slowly as possible, I inched my left hand down along the concrete and eased my cell phone out of my side pocket. When she didn’t answer at first, my heart started racing, but luckily, after the third ring, the line clicked and I heard McKenzie’s familiar voice. “Dixie?”
I tried to keep myself as calm as possible, but my voice was shaky. I said, “Samantha?”
There was a pause. “Dixie, what’s wrong?”
I took a deep breath, “Mr. Silverthorn killed Mr. Hoskins. And he’s on his way to the hospital right now to kill Vladim, the bank robber I pulled out of that car crash.”
I heard a sharp intake of breath. She said, “Where are you?”
“I’m in the alley behind the bookstore. He just left me. If you go now you’ll get to the hospital before him. Sarasota Memorial Hospital. And I think he might be dressed up like an old woman.”
“An old woman?”
“Like the old woman in the video.”
“Dixie, what—”
I interrupted. “You have to trust me this time.”
There was a pause. “I’m sending my men to the hospital now. Are you sure you’re okay?”
I said, “I’m sure,” and then I just clicked the phone off. I didn’t think there was much more to say.
I lay there and watched the stars overhead pull in and out of focus. It was completely quiet, except I thought I could just make out the gentle hum of the ocean and the rhythmic song of its waves rolling in to shore, the song I’ve heard my whole life. In a little while I started to shiver slightly, and I could feel my hands and feet beginning to turn cold.
As gently as possible, I eased myself up on my elbows and slowly turned my head over to my left shoulder. In the bunched black fabric of Ethan’s big hoodie were two burned, dime-sized holes, one where the bullet went in, and another where it went out.
It had completely missed me.
29
For a long time, longer than I care to admit, I dreamed about Christy every night. I’d dream I was tucking her in at bedtime, or cleaning her Popsicle-stained fingers with a warm washcloth … just little things, little moments that either did or didn’t actually happen. She was always giggling and happy. She’d tell me not to be sad, because even though she was gone, she was always with me. I’d wake up in the middle of the night and chase after the scattering remnants of those dreams, like dissolving vapor trails from a jet plane.
Most mornings I’d have her clothes for the day neatly laid out on her bed, but she’d paw through all the closets like a wild animal and come downstairs in an outfit of her own making—one of my T-shirts over a sundress with baggy leggings and oversized sunglasses, or a fluffy pink tutu over faded jeans with one of Todd’s ties draped casually around her neck.
As I drove home through the darkened, moonlit streets of Siesta Key with all the windows open and the cool, salty air streaming through the Bronco, I thought about Baldy and Janet, driving across Texas and holding up banks to save their child. I couldn’t exactly condone what they’d done, but I certainly understood it. If I’d been given half a chance to save Christy, nothing could have stopped me.
Nothing.
So who was I to judge? When Christy was killed, I had dedicated my entire life to fighting on the side of the law, but I knew down to the soles of my feet that all it would have taken was just the tiniest slip of fate to throw me right to the other side of it. If I’d thought robbing banks would have helped her, I would have robbed banks.
By the time I turned down the driveway, I’d made up my mind. When McKenzie called, I wouldn’t say a word about Janet unless she asked me point blank. I wasn’t exactly sure what my plan was, and I didn’t see how I’d ever get a chance to talk to Janet before the police did, but I was still holding on to the hope that somehow I could convince her not to run.
Then there was Mrs. Silverthorn …
When I got to the curve in the lane, I switched off the headlights and rolled the rest of the way down with nothing but the moonlight to guide me. Once inside the carport I cut the ignition and put my seat back. I had a feeling my phone would be ringing any minute, and I didn’t want the guys to hear. The thought of having to explain everything tonight made me shudder to the core. So instead I leaned my head against the window frame and stared at the darkened treetops, breathing in and out.
I caught a glimpse of myself in the side mirror and thought, considering everything, I looked okay. I felt okay, too. In fact, except for the gnarly bump on the back of my head and the feeling I’d been whacked in the trunk with a Louisville Slugger, I felt pretty damn good.
I looked over at the passenger seat, where Cosmo was sitting quietly inside his cat carrier and watching me carefully. I whispered, “Moses Cosmo Thornwall, considering everything, you look pretty damn good, too.”
He squinted his eyes and said, “Mrow,” which I took to mean, “I love you too, but get me out of this stupid box, you foolish woman.”
I figured I’d take Cosmo to Dr. Layton for a checkup in the morning. For now, he could stay with me and get a good night’s rest. I just hoped Ella Fitzgerald wouldn’t be too horrified to have him sleep over. Then, just as I predicted, the phone rang.
McKenzie barely waited for me to say hello. “I just received a report that we had a call earlier tonight from the butcher. He said he heard a pop and then saw a car speed out of the alley. He wasn’t sure, but he thought it might have been a gunshot.”
I said, “Yeah, that was Mr. Silverthorn.”
There was a pause. “Dixie, would you care to expound on that statement?”
“Oh, sorry. Yeah, he shot me … but it was dark and he was shaking. He missed.”
“And you’re just telling me this now?”
“I wanted you to get to Mr. Vladim before he did.”
She sighed. “Well, you were right. We arrested Silverthorn in the lobby of the hospital in a white dress, a gray wig, and full makeup. He had a pistol hidden under his arm.”
I said, “He was going to kill Mr. Vladim. He knew what Silverthorn had planned. And that nude drawing I found? It was Mrs. Silverthorn. I’m not sure if it’s true or not, but he took it to mean she’d had an affair with Mr. Hoskins.”
There was a pause. “Dixie, I’m afraid I owe you an apology. You may have been wrong about poison being involved, but you were certainly right about a connection to the Silverthorns.”
I said, “Yeah, well…” but I stopped myself. I knew if I told her I had four chocolate-covered rosary peas in my pocket she’d be banging on my front door in two seconds flat.
She said, “So the old woman in the video, it was Mr. Silverthorn. He hid in the back and then killed Mr. Hoskins after you left.”