“Fayette,” Cutter said, clearly wondering where Roy was going. “Same as Peachtree Heights.”
Roy leaned toward the chief. “This is before your time around here, Blake. But it was common practice for the medical examiner to be some local physician taking the role on as a sideline.”
Cutter shrugged. “Still is. You looking for extra work, Roy?”
“No. But my father was medical examiner of Fayette County, for about fifteen years. Starting around 1960. Could that be the tie-in?”
The chief was smiling, nodding. “Sure could. I’ll get Detective Hodges right on it. She’s my little bulldog on loan from Buford. If anybody can sniff the connection out, she can.”
“And you’ve looked at my records,” Roy said, “but not my dad’s. Tell her she can have full access.”
Helen’s gaze went to her husband. “Roy, knowing all this... how can we stay here?”
“It’s better than being out in the open,” Roy said. “And I’m impressed with how Blake is handling the situation. Anyway, with what the police working this know now — and thanks to that sketch of yours, Helen — it should be simple enough to find and stop someone who looks like that.”
Helen shifted her gaze to the chief. “My father thinks you’re using our son as bait. It strikes me he might be right.”
“I can understand that,” Cutter admitted. “But with our attacker, we’re talking about someone who has lived much of his life in nearly total isolation. Yet whatever this person is... whatever a horrific upbringing has turned him into... his intelligence would seem to be well above average. Think about it! Looking as he does, thrust into a big wide world he’s never experienced, he’s able to hide himself. Here, at your compound, we have a shot at getting him out in the open with a world of firepower to take him down, alive if possible.”
“Wherever we are,” Roy said to her, “Dennis Lee will come after Richie and me. Right now we have the advantage.”
“Doesn’t feel like it,” Helen said with a sigh.
Cutter took his leave and they walked him out, the couple remaining on the porch as the chief in his Challenger pulled out of the compound. Two officers on foot patrol were in sight, giving them nods and waves.
The night was cool and lightly breezy, a darkening dusk painting everything a watercolor shade of blue. Forgetting himself for a moment, Roy slipped his arm around his wife’s shoulders, then said, “Sorry,” and withdrew it.
She moved closer to him. “No need. Go ahead. It is a little cold.”
“What we heard from Blake was more than a little cold.”
She nodded, shivered, possibly for more than one reason. “Roy...”
“Yes?”
“Whatever happened to... us?”
“You want my honest opinion?”
She nodded up at him.
“We had it too easy, at first,” he said. “Your father meant well...” That was cutting Parsons considerable slack, but this was the man’s daughter. “...then when Richie came along, and he had those tests made...”
“You felt you had to stand up for your son.”
“Yes. I know you love Richie, too. Good people don’t always see eye-to-eye, even...”
“When they love each other?”
He studied her. “Why? Do we, still? You and I?”
She looked away. “I don’t really know. We’ve been thrown into something the likes of which few... if any married couple... has ever had to deal with. So we kind of have to be on the same team.”
“That’s true.”
She cocked her head. “People can change, you know. For the better.”
“Maybe. But I have to be honest with you, honey. I’m not going to change. Not where Richie’s concerned. And not where I see my life going. This place is my life. This little town. My little practice.”
“I don’t want you to change.”
“You sure of that?”
She nodded firmly. “No more custody battles. We’ll sit down, you and me, no lawyers...”
“No Big Daddy Parsons?”
“No Big Daddy Parsons. And we’ll figure out what’s best for our son. Together.”
He turned her to him and looked at that lovely face and he kissed her. Long and hard and yet soft and deep. Then he smiled at her and said, “You smell so damn good.”
“It’s the pineapple chicken.”
He laughed. “Do I need to apologize for kissing you?”
“No,” and she kissed him. Shorter, lighter than the kiss he’d given her, but she did kiss him and something inside him blossomed.
“This is my favorite custody battle so far,” he said, “and by far.”
They went back inside, hand in hand.
Helen said, “Where’s Richie?”
“He must still be up there with that cop — Jackson. You want help with the dishes?”
Richie pedaled and pedaled and pedaled some more. Finally he climbed down off the stationary bike. He had worked up a good sweat.
He said to Sgt. Jackson, “Not bad, huh?”
The uniformed policeman handed Richie a towel.
Richie had just treated his guest to a full run-through of the daily work-out routine. He did this for the officer even though he’d already been through it this morning. He was really tired but didn’t say anything. He liked having the chance to show what he could do.
“Not bad at all,” the officer said. He had a big grin. “I don’t think I could do a work-out like that.”
“You could work up to it,” Richie said encouragingly. He went over to where he’d set his stethoscope on the weight bench. When he was doing his exercise routine, he didn’t wear the device. But now he put it back on.
“What do you have there, son?” the officer asked.
Richie told him it was a stethoscope.
“You listen to heartbeats and stuff with it,” Richie explained.
The big man frowned. Not mad but he frowned. “You didn’t borrow that from your dad’s medical bag, did you?”
“No, he gave it to me. It’s an old one. But it still works. I’m gonna be a doctor when I grow up.”
The officer laughed. “Are you, now? That takes a lot of school, you know.”
“I like school.”
“Well, good, ‘cause it does. There’s other medical jobs, you know.”
Richie nodded. “Yes. I heard Dad say. Nurse is one. Mostly girls are nurses but there are boy ones, too. And some people at the hospital order things, he said.”
“Order things? Oh... orderlies? Yeah. They’re like male nurses, too. Sort of.”
“Can I hold your gun?”
The officer’s head went back. “Well...” he said. Then he thought about it. Richie could tell he was thinking by the way the man’s eyes moved back and forth. “I suppose that’s all right, but we should probably check with your mom and dad first.”
“Or you could take the bullets out. Then you wouldn’t have to ask.”
The officer laughed again. “That’s very smart, son. But maybe I should ask anyway.”
“Even with the bullets out?”
The big man laughed. It shook some things. Then he emptied the bullets from the gun and put them in his pocket. They jingled. He held the gun out by the barrel with the handle sticking out. The boy reached for it. But the officer held up his other hand. Stop! Like the crosswalk at school.
“Now don’t you point that at anybody,” the officer said, still holding onto the gun.
“Okay. Even if it’s empty?”
“Even if it’s empty.”
“Even at him?”
Richie nodded toward the mummy. The boy’s friend was seated knees-up where the work-out space stopped and storage started. His friend seemed to be watching.