That evening, in a Holifield, Ohio, gin mill, Jerry Grantland's mother Miriam, who was also the mother of Geraldine Knott, Loren Ensam, Gerald Lone, and Addie Price, read the New York papers, then buried her head in her arms and wept.
At the same time in New York, Elana Dare sat alone at an Upper East Side restaurant table, trying to ignore the stares of the other diners, who by this time had to know she'd been stood up. Her second cocktail, a prop to mitigate her embarrassment, sat before her on a damp paper napkin on the table. Between sips of what was now melted ice, she was desperately using her cell phone to call Gerald Lone.
His phone rang and rang.
EPILOGUE
Detroit, one year after New York
Jerry Grantland, wearing a buzz cut, dark business suit, and yellow power tie, entered the CookRight culinary supplies store and made his way to a display of carving knives arranged in a glass showcase.
He was standing studying the knives, his forefinger touching his chin, when a sales clerk approached. He was a chubby man about forty, stuffed into a cheap gray suit and wearing a cheaper white smile. He moved around behind the counter so he could open it should Jerry decide he wanted to examine the merchandise further.
Then his expression changed, and his magnified blue eyes widened behind rimless glasses.
'You sure remind me of somebody,' he said. A tentative kind of recognition entered his eyes. 'That television personality that used to be on the news commenting on local murders. The one who got into some kinda trouble. Why, she could be your sister.'
'If I had a sister,' Jerry said, and bought a knife.
