The sheriff's deputy had driven the women back to the house. Mayes had arrived a few minutes earlier, so the two could give their official statements. Mayes and Firman would get Ward McCarty's side when he was no longer in and out from painkillers.
Alice had remained at Dr. McCarty's side, and she'd been a comfort through the long morning hours while Ward McCarty had been in surgery.
Dr. McCarty locked eyes with Mayes. She smiled weakly and nodded at him. She'd gone without sleep since the morning before, had gone through hell the night before, and had been in the OR observing her husband's touch-and- go surgery until ten that morning. She had only left him after he was out of surgery and had spoken to her. Despite the circles under her eyes, they remained bright, though worried.
John Mayes closed his notebook and signaled Bill Firman. Together, they walked into the kitchen.
Alice broke her concentration on the tiny screen to look up as they entered. Just for a second, though. The girl seemed no worse for the ordeal she'd been through, but he thought she might be in shock.
“Alice, this is FBI Agent Bill Firman,” Natasha said.
“Okay,” Alice said.
“This won't take long,” Mayes told the women.
“That's fine,” Natasha told him. “I'd like to get cleaned up and get back to the hospital as soon as possible.”
“Me, too,” Alice said, without looking up. “I stink like a pig.”
Alice's video game emitted a series of musical notes and she smiled broadly before turning the screen toward Dr. McCarty
“I beat it,” she said, proudly.
“That's good, Alice,” Dr. McCarty told her, smiling.
Alice turned the machine off and placed it on the counter. “You can give it to one of your sick kids or something.”
“I had your car pulled out of the hole. You can go whenever you like,” Mayes said.
Alice shrugged. “I told my mother I'd come home tomorrow. I thought I'd stay around to keep Natasha company-if she wants me to, I mean.”
Dr. McCarty placed her hand on the girl's. “That's absolutely fine. My parents are coming in tomorrow, but until they get here, I could use the company.”
Alice beamed.
“Dr. McCarty,” Mayes said. “We need to get an official statement if you feel up to it.”
“Should I have Gene Duncan here?” she asked.
“You don't need him,” Firman said, then almost sheepishly added, “Naturally that's strictly up to you. We just want to help you through this.”
She looked at Mayes, and he nodded.
“I feel up to it now,” she said.
Firman said, “So, this is what we have already. Alice came to see you after the model car thing. She'd found the car on the airplane ride and returned it to Mr. Gismano, who was posing as Todd Hartman. She came here to talk to Mr. McCarty about a job.”
“That's good,” Alice said.
“Louis killed the guard outside. Evelyn Gismano, whom you believed was Leslie Wilde, had a gun, the. 38, which she left near the couch. After Louis Gismano shot his wife, he was trying to kill Dr. and Mr. McCarty with his knife. Acting in fear for your lives, Alice picked up Evelyn's gun and shot Louis. Total self- defense. End of story.”
“That's right, isn't it, Alice?”
“No,” she said, rolling her eyes at the ceiling. “I told you already. I brought that gun in my bag and-”
“I think you are mistaken,” Firman interrupted. “That misconception on your part might be problematic for you, Alice. There are legal ramifications as to the gun, which is a weapon that was stolen in a burglary.”
“By Earl Tucker. I said that. I gave you his address.”
Alice looked at the frowning agents and at Natasha.
“But we agreed you were mistaken, because of the excitement,” Mayes said. “Remember?”
“Okay. But Earl deserves to be arrested. Anyway, I saw Leslie… Evelyn, with the gun. She was brandishing it all around the house. What a total bitch.”
“That's all we need,” Firman said. “Isn't that right, Agent Mayes?”
Mayes closed his notebook and pocketed it.
“Okay, whatever. Could I like go take a shower?” Alice asked. “I mean you obviously don't need me to tell my story, right? Just do me one solid and leave in the part where I say, ‘I killed the fucker and I'd do it again.’ Okay?”
“In fear for yours and the McCartys’ lives, you killed the fucker and you'd do it again. Got it,” Firman said, shaking his head.
Dr. McCarty leaned over and put her arm around the young girl's shoulder. “Alice,” she said. “You go take a shower. Pick out something to wear from my things. Whatever suits you.”
“Cool,” Alice said, smiling. “It won't fit though.”
After Alice left the kitchen, Mayes said, “She's going to need some psychiatric help.”
“I agree,” Natasha said. “Her mother and I will see to it.”
“Strange kid or not, it was a brave thing she did,” Firman said.
“Yes, it was. She's odd, I'll give you that, but she's intelligent in so many ways. I guess she's just a teenager. By the way, Agent Mayes, I never did thank you for showing up last night.”
“Wish I'd gotten here sooner.”
“If you hadn't come, Ward would be dead,” she said. “There was no way we could have waited for an ambulance.”
“Dr. McCarty,” Bill Firman said, looking at Mayes before looking back at her. “I want to officially apologize for being such a hemorrhoid.”
EIGHTY-TWO
Thirty- six days later, Natasha parked her Lexus in the garage and held on to Ward's arm to help support him as they entered their home through the kitchen. Her parents had left the day before to return to Seattle. Having them there had been a comfort, but Ward was fully able to walk short distances on his own, despite the painful tightness in his chest and abdomen. The operation on his hand had restored partial use of the fingers, although there was no feeling in them. Therapy would restore some measure of use, and some of the feeling could return in time, but the doctors agreed that his fine- line drawing days were done.
He looked around the living room and was pleased that there were no signs remaining of the events that had put him in the hospital. Except for the new carpet and the gray wool curtains on the windows, it was just the way it had been before.
Slowly, Ward sat down on the couch, and Natasha handed him the remote. “You hungry?”
He tossed the remote aside and took her wrist. “I'm starving, but not for food.”
“Not now, big boy,” she said, laughing.
“Why not? Doctors said I could exercise.”
“Walking is what they had in mind,” she said, laughing and pulling her hand away. “Besides, you might embarrass our friends.”
“What?”
He looked where she was pointing, and laughed at the sight of the wave of smiling people coming up the hallway.
EIGHTY-THREE
On a crisp January morning Natasha stepped up to a podium set on risers outside Carolinas Medical Center-NorthEast under the new sign: THE BARNEY
MCCARTY PEDIATRIC SURGICAL CENTER. The bright sunshine cut the chill off the soft winter breeze.
She looked out at the crowd of doctors, nurses, technicians, local politicians, businessmen, and lawyers, some of them friends of hers and her husband's. With the laughter of several children-a good number of them patients- rising into the air, Dr. McCarty gathered herself to speak.
“I want to thank each and every one of you for coming today. This wing, which we are here to dedicate, stands behind me due to the unselfish donations of a great number of people whose money helped us make it a reality.”
The crowd applauded wildly. Someone yelled out, “And the video game sure didn't hurt!”
“I guess I should mention that the sales from my husband's video game, which I hope all of you own, were certainly a big help, and will ensure that this center will be able to help children without the financial means to cover their care. That is all the more appropriate since most of our patients play video games, Ward's included.”