'So why aren't you happy?'
'Who said I wasn't?'
'You don't sound happy.'
He was tempted to lay it all out there and get Derek's opinion. Because he really did value it, although he'd deny it with his dying breath. But the personal aspect of his dilemma was a sad tale, and he was the ogre of it, and he didn't want to lessen Derek and Julie's regard for him, which couldn't be all that great to start with. As for his misgivings over the 'police matter,' they were just that. Unsubstantiated, unidentifiable, and, at this point, irrelevant.
Crossly, he said, 'You don't have enough drama in your life, Counselor, you gotta borrow from mine?'
Derek sighed with resignation. 'Have a safe flight.'
They disconnected. Supremely agitated and in need of a cigarette, Dodge pulled onto the shoulder of the freeway and lit one. He was at a crossroads. Literally. Up ahead the freeway divided. The right fork would take him to the airport, where he could probably get on a flight to Atlanta this evening. The left fork would almost certainly lead him on a wild-goose chase.
Why was he even debating the choice? Why didn't he just go? He'd made a clean break.
But that was bullshit, and even he was no longer buying it.
He hadn't made a clean break, he'd sneaked out.
He'd run away because he was too chickenhearted to say good-bye. The two women he'd left behind would be furious, frustrated, maybe a little heartbroken.
And even without taking their feelings into account, there was this other thing nagging him, holding him back when he should just get the hell out of the freakin' state of Texas.
'Shit.' He drew hard on the cigarette one final time and tossed it out the window. Cursing himself for being every kind of fool, he put the car in Drive and shot across four lanes of traffic in order to take the left fork.
'You're not supposed to be in here now. Didn't you read the sign? Visiting hours are over.'
Dodge turned away from the bed. The nurse filling the doorway was maybe four feet, eleven inches tall and almost that wide. Her scrubs had clown faces on them. Her hair had been plaited into dozens of cornrows with multicolored beads that dangled against her shoulders.
He gave her his most engaging smile. 'I like your hair.'
She propped a ham-size fist on her ample hip.
Instantly he switched tactics and became repentant. 'I must have missed the sign.'
'Um-huh,' she said, like she'd heard it all before. She waddled into the room and looked down at the tiny form on the bed. 'How you doin', sweetheart? You gonna sit up and talk to your gentleman caller here?'
With obvious compassion, she stroked the patient's cropped white hair. The woman who'd given life to Oren Starks showed no sign of awareness even though her eyes were open.
'Is she always like this, Glenda?' Dodge asked, reading the name on the tag clipped to the nurse's top.
She looked him up and down. 'You a relative?'
'Friend of the family.'
'You know the son who got himself shot? We got the news this morning.'
'Actually, he shot himself. I hadn't had the misfortune of meeting him, but I know a lot about him. He did some bad stuff.' Dodge, feeling a rare urge to tell the truth, said, 'I was in on his capture.'
'Huh.' He was subjected to another once-over. 'You look like a cop. You got a gun?'
He turned his back to her and raised the hem of his jacket.
She harrumphed. 'You're not supposed to have firearms in here.'
'I must have missed that sign, too.'
She tsked and shook her head as though he was a hopeless case, then returned her attention to the patient. 'I can't see her boy's dying making much difference to her.'
'How long has she been like this?'
'It came on gradual like, you know, the way it does. But she's been unresponsive for more than a year. Some of the sorry help in this place just ignore the poor little thing. Never talk to her. But I take good care of her, and we have our chats.' She plucked a tissue from a box on the nightstand and used it to wipe a string of drool off Mrs. Starks's slack lips. 'Don't we, sugar? You feel free to chime in now anytime you get a mind to.'
'You're a saint, Glenda.'
'You're full of shit.'
'No, I mean it.'
'So do I.' But she was grinning.
He laughed. 'Guilty.'
'What are you doing here, Mr. Cop?'
'I don't know.'
'You don't know?'
'No. And that's no shit.' He looked thoughtfully at Mrs. Starks. 'I guess I hoped she would enlighten me.'
'Like how?'
'Like tell me something about Oren that would explain why he whacked out, killed a woman, a sixteen-year-old boy, and an old man, then wished another person dead with his dying breath.'
'Lord o' mercy.' The nurse shook her head again, causing the beads to clack together. 'I'm sorry, sir, but she can't help you. Last few times that Oren came to see her, she didn't know him, didn't even know he was here.'
Dodge asked how often Oren had visited his mother and when the last time had been.
'A while back,' Glenda told him. 'Several months, at least. Frankly ... and this is just between us, I wouldn't say it if this poor soul could understand.'
'My lips are sealed.'
She leaned toward him and spoke in a stage whisper. 'I didn't like him.'
'No one did. I didn't even know him, and I didn't like him.'
'He wasn't right in the head, you ask me. Made you uncomfortable just to talk to him, you know?'
Dodge nodded.
'I was never happy to see him coming but was always glad to watch him go.' Glenda's giant hand, with its surprisingly gentle touch, stroked her patient's arm. 'Poor lady. I wouldn't wish her condition on anybody, but I'm kinda glad she doesn't know what her boy sunk to. After all that other sad business, she didn't deserve this.'
Dodge's heart hitched, and the hair on the back of his neck stood on end. 'Glenda, darlin'?'
'Hmm?'
'What other sad business?'
'Do you have to go?' Berry asked when Ski kissed her good-bye at the back door of the lake house.
'Duty calls. I've got to make an official statement to the media. Dot i's, cross t's.'
