Part 30 (1/2)

”She was carrying a gun when you met her, Joe,” Eileen said. ”Concealed carry permit. n.o.body is going to mess with Joni again.”

”I like that,” Joe said slowly. ”I don't want anybody messing with Joni either.”

”Time for coffee and dessert,” the waiter said with a grin, rolling a cart to the table that was packed with confections. ”Don't try to get away without dessert.”

”We have to have coffee,” Eileen said, eyeing the cart.

”But of course,” Joe said gloomily. ”I'll just run about twelve miles tomorrow to work this off, that's all.”

The night fizzed around her like champagne as she laughed, and Eileen understood in the cold and rational part of her that the danger was a part of the fizz. The danger that she might be falling in love with a madman and a murderer. Eileen knew with all her heart that Joe Tanner was innocent, that he was intelligent and good. But the tiny rational voice in her head stayed awake and aware, looking with cold lizard eyes out of her head and a.s.sessing every movement and nuance of Joe Tanner. The rational part of her, her lizard part, would not trust Joe Tanner until she had the real murderer in custody. No matter what her heart was telling her.

The night breeze blew through the car windows and stirred Eileen's hair as they drove to Joe's home.

”That was the best dinner I ever had,” Joe said after he pulled to a stop. ”Do you want to come in for coffee or something?”

”I don't-”

”Please? Just for a bit. I don't want the night to end.”

He leaned forward and kissed her, and his mouth was as soft as she imagined it to be. His kiss was maddeningly gentle.

”All right,” she said.

His apartment was small and indifferently decorated, as she knew it would be. There was no particular style, just nice furniture and lamps and a couple of prints.

”Let me fix decaf,” he said, ”or I'll be up all night. I'll probably be up all night anyway.”

Eileen didn't answer. She was looking at a framed picture of Harriet Sullivan. Eileen felt a withering rage and jealousy of this dead woman, for the second time. She couldn't help it, even though she knew it was useless.

”It was two years ago,” she said.

”It feels like yesterday,” he said, his face abruptly as expressionless as stone.

”I've heard a lot of stories about Sully,” Eileen said. ”Sharon told me what she did when she thought she was going to lose her job. I think-”

”You think I killed Terry because of Sully,” Joe said sharply. He was clenching the coffee grinder in his hands. He looked furious.

”I don't know,” Eileen said, from the lizard part of her. Then she folded her arms and bowed her head. ”No,” she whispered from her heart. ”Not you.”

The coffee grinder thumped to the counter with a clatter.

”Not me, Eileen,” Joe said. He walked to her and took her in his arms, as naturally as though he'd done it a thousand times. ”It wasn't me.” Eileen could feel his heart beating under her ear, and she put her arms around him and held him tightly. Lost, she was lost, and she didn't care.

”I know it wasn't you.”

Great Falls, Virginia.

”Lucy, Lucy,” Ted called to her.

Lucy could hear her husband's voice, but the smoke swirled around her and she couldn't see. There was a frantic crackling sound that had to be fire. There were sharp rubble and rocks under her feet. She looked down, in the queer fishbowl vision of a dream, and saw that her feet were encased in stout boots. Underneath her feet were brick shards and sh.e.l.l casings and tiny white sticks that she understood were children's bones.

”Ted!” she screamed, but the scream came out of her throat as the tiniest of whispers. She tried to look around, but the smoke was choking and thick and studded with particles that glistened like crystals. The smoke was s.h.i.+mmering, but the taste was foul, like death.

The smoke haze lifted and she saw the Tower of London, broken, one part of the spire sticking up like a brutally sharpened pencil, and then the s.h.i.+mmering clouds swirled it away again. She'd visited London as a college student on spring break and never forgotten her first breathtaking glimpse of the Tower. Now it was destroyed.

Lucy felt the scream sticking in her throat, and knew she was walking through radioactive clouds. Then she realized she was carrying a child, and knew that the worst part wasn't that she was dead, but that her child was too.

That broke the scream free and sent her up and out of the nightmare, and she opened her eyes in the darkness and Ted was there, holding her. There was no smoke.

”Lucy,” Ted said. He was near tears. ”Don't scream, Lucy, don't.”

Lucy put her arms around his neck and sobbed, feeling her sweat running down her body and soaking her nights.h.i.+rt.

”Oh, Ted,” she said. ”I had the most horrible nightmare.”

”It's okay now, baby, it's okay, it was just a dream,” he soothed, and held her.

But it was a long time before Lucy fell asleep again.

29.

Oklahoma.

”Have you finished Chapter Twelve yet?” Major Stillwell asked Richard, the pilot. They were sitting in a Greyhound bus stop in Oklahoma. The bus stop also served as a gas station and liquor store. The bugs swarmed around the light at the front of the station.

”Almost done,” Richard said absently. Richard was bringing home a romance novel for his wife, a gift. She loved romance novels. This was the only reading material anybody had. They'd split Richard's book into chapters and were sharing the chapters around as they read. They'd tried reading it together, but Gwen was too fast and Stillwell was too slow. The gas station's one video game had an Out of Order sign on it that was so sun-faded as to be illegible.

The friendly broken-legged farmer's wife had fed them some terrific fried chicken for lunch and some cherry pie for dessert that Stillwell thought he might remember forever, it was so good.

After the lunch-the farmer's wife called it dinner-there was a long, boring wait for the farmer to return from the fields, and a long, boring drive to the nearest town, and then a long, boring wait for the bus.

The bus tickets weren't that expensive, but all three groaned when they found out the next bus wouldn't pull into town until two that morning.

”I was supposed to be in Colorado Springs tonight,” Stillwell said.

”We all were,” Richard said gloomily.