“No,” she said with resignation. “You can do whatever you set your mind to, Ben.”
“You just don’t approve of my choices.”
“True, I’ve never liked your work, but after what’s happened, I would think you’d consider changing your career.”
“If anything,” he said fiercely, “I’m more determined to do whatever I can to stop people like Nick Parrish. Irene — other than those of our own group, how many bodies have the searchers found up there now?”
“Ben!” Camille said angrily.
“Irene?”
“Ten women — last count,” I answered. “They think there are more.”
“They’ll be working up there for months, Camille. Because of one man. And every family who has a missing daughter will want to know if she’s one of them.”
“We’ve been over all of this before,” Camille said. “I don’t know why I came by.” She moved toward the door. “Silly to think you might need my help.”
“I’m not a charity case,” he said, his anger returning in force. “And I’d have to lose more than a leg to—”
“Don’t,” she said quickly. “I get the message.”
She opened the door, stopped, and said, “I was sorry to hear about David.”
He was silent.
“Take care, Ben,” she said.
“You too, Camille. Thanks for coming by. I mean that.”
She turned back toward him.
He smiled. “Really. I know your intentions were good. You’ve just forgotten what a” — he glanced at Sister Theresa — “what an old bear I am.”
“No, I haven’t,” she said. “It’s one of the things I like about you.”
He laughed.
As if she couldn’t resist saying it one more time, she added, “Please think about finding some other kind of work.”
His smile faded. “Maybe you should do the same.”
She left.
There was a collective release of breath as the door closed behind her.
Bingle imitated it with a loud sigh of his own.
“Sorry,” Ben said to the dog, “that probably ruined your visit.”
“I have the feeling he thinks he’s spending the night,” I said.
“Much as I’d like it, Bingle, I think we’ll have to take a rain check.”
Just before we left, I asked, “Ben, how will you manage after you’re released?”
“I haven’t thought that far ahead yet. Probably hire someone to help out.”
On an associate professor’s salary? I thought. He must have seen my doubts, because he said, “I’ve got to take it one step at a time.” He grinned and added, “Having only one foot—”
“Oh, for God’s sake—”
He laughed.
“I’m serious.”
“Too serious. Take care of Bingle — that’s plenty for the time being.”
We slipped Bingle back out and I said good night to Sister Theresa and our co-conspirator guards. As I walked across the darkened parking lot, I saw other visitors leaving. I was unlocking the door to the Volvo, trying to manage leash and keys and purse when I saw Nick Parrish. He was sitting in the next car over, watching me. I dropped the keys and opened my mouth to scream, stumbling backward and tangling myself in Bingle’s leash. Parrish would catch me!
That’s when I saw that I was wrong. It was not Parrish. Just a man, waiting in a car.
I got into the Volvo with Bingle. I rolled the windows down and petted the dog while I waited to stop shaking. Bingle sat patiently, not fussing or barking. Twenty minutes later, I had calmed down enough to start the car.
“You need to stop thinking about Parrish,” I told myself. “You need to find some distractions.”
I pursued that idea with a vengeance.
34
THURSDAY NIGHT, MAY 25
Las Piernas
It was late when I came home that evening, but I found that Frank, Jack, Stinger, and Travis had waited for me.
“You didn’t eat dinner?” I asked.
But there was only one dinner anyone was concerned with, and I wondered if Bingle had ever before received applause for chowing down.
