I Shall Not Want

'It's by way of penance. I should have come to visit long before this. How are you doing?'

'Well, the pneumonia has cleared up, and they tell me that's good. But it put me behind on my therapy for this darned hip.' She made a face. 'A broken hip. If that doesn't tell me I'm an old woman, I don't know what does. Ah, well.' She looked at Clare sharply. 'I'm guessing you didn't come all the way over here from Millers Kill to learn about my exercises.'

Clare shook her head. 'I'm afraid not.' She told the nun about Janet and Mike McGeoch, the bodies, the investigation, her own part in concealing the truth of the situation from the police. By the time she finished, Sister Lucia had put away several more bourbon balls and was nodding.

'Oh, what a tangled web we weave,' she said, when Clare ran out of steam.

'What should I do?'

'Who'd you say was the lead detective on this?'

'Our police chief, Russ Van Alstyne. He was there the night of the crash-I don't know if you saw him.'

'Surely not the redhead. He didn't look old enough.'

'No, no. That's Officer Flynn. He's a sweetheart. No, the chief was the older man with the'-she couldn't help it, she gestured with her hands, shaping Russ's broad shoulders-'tall. Very tall. Blue eyes.'

'The really attractive one?'

'Oh. Yes.'

The nun's lips twitched upward. 'I didn't see him.'

Clare felt her cheeks go red.

'Evidently, you know him.' Sister Lucia's glint of amusement mellowed. 'Do you trust him? To do the right thing, if you tell him about the men working at the McGeochs?'

'Our definition of 'the right thing' is sometimes very different. She thought for a moment. 'If he feels it's his duty to turn them in, he'll do it. He may not like it, but he'll do it.'

'Even if it hurts his own sister?' The nun sniffed. 'Sounds inflexible to me.'

'Not inflexible. Honor-bound.' She couldn't help smile. 'Admittedly, it does make him a pain in the ass at times.'

Sister Lucia laughed, which set off another bout of coughing. One of the nurses came in just at the moment Clare began to be concerned.

'Sister?' She helped the nun lean forward until the coughing fit stopped.

'Sorry,' Sister Lucia gasped.

Clare stood. 'No, no, I'm sorry. I've overtaxed you.'

The nurse nodded. 'It may be time for another treatment.'

Sister Lucia grasped Clare's arm. 'Tell him,' she said, her voice a rattle in her throat, 'justice is important. Rights and jobs and working conditions are important. But the bottom line is, without life, none of those matter.' She looked up at Clare, her face fierce in its weakness, like a martyr's. 'If there's some connection, anything…' She left the implication unsaid. 'Tell him.'

V

Clare was on her way home from the rehab center when her phone rang. She turned down her Jason Mraz CD and glanced at the number: Russ. For a second, she considered letting her voice mail pick it up. She had to talk to him, she was clear on that, but in fairness's sake she felt she had to let Janet know what she was going to do first.

She flipped it open. 'Hey,' she said.

'Hey. It's me. Where are you?'

Huh. That was to the point. 'On my way back from the Rehabilitation Center at the Glens Falls Hospital. I was visiting Lucia Pirone. You remember her.'

'The nun from the crash, yeah. Look, can you meet me at the county courthouse? You know where that is?'

'Certainly. Why? What's going on?'

He made a disapproving noise. 'Amy Nguyen of the DA's office wants to talk to us.'

'Us? Together?'

'The Christie brothers are up for bail, and apparently their lawyer wants to start the horse trading right now. Can you get over there?'

'Yeah. Where?'

'Just ask for Amy when you check in. Thanks. 'Bye.'

He hung up before she had a chance to say anything else. Maybe he was in a tearing hurry. Maybe they were back to not talking. That's what she missed the most: talking. Serious, silly, bone-deep, flippant, all their words and thoughts like gifts to each other, the only gifts they, with their hobbled hearts, could give. She turned the CD player back up. Another day to sing about the magic that was you and me. Oh, yeah. Always time for that.

The Washington County Courthouse was in a low, modern brick building that could have passed for a bank center or a modest corporate headquarters. Its lines were softened by ornamental crab apples in full flower and row upon row of daffodils and paperwhites. She paused a moment on the walkway from the parking lot, breathing in the scent of apple and thick May grass rising over the tinny smell of cars baking in the sunshine. She wondered if the small slices of spring soothed or taunted the prisoners who went in and out of here.

At the security station, she asked for Amy Nguyen and was pointed toward a meeting room that was, when Clare opened the door to a 'Come in!', scarcely bigger than a broom closet. A petite Asian woman about Clare's age stood behind a table stacked with manila folders and Redweld document cases.

'Amy Nguyen?'

The woman looked up from the open file she had been reading. On someone less harried- looking, her expression would have been a smile. 'You must be the Reverend Fergusson.' She held out a hand. Only the faintest trace of an accent indicated English had not been her first language.

'No one else seems to want the job,' Clare agreed, shaking Nguyen's hand. That earned her an actual grin.

'Same here. Take a seat.'

Clare pulled out one of the molded plastic chairs shoved beneath the table. 'What's up? Chief Van Alstyne said you wanted to talk to me about the Christies.'

'Let's wait until Russ gets here so we can all-' Amy broke off as the door opened, almost banging into Clare, and Russ sidled into the room, taking up any remaining free space.

'Sorry if I'm late,' he said. He glanced at Clare. 'Reverend Fergusson.' Looked at Nguyen. 'Amy. It's been awhile.'

She reached over the table to shake his hand. 'It has been. I was so, so sorry to hear about your wife. I can't imagine what a terrible loss it must be for you.'

'Thank you,' he said stiffly. 'It's been-yes. Thank you.' At Nguyen's gesture, he attempted to wedge himself into one of the chairs. He did not look at Clare.

'Okay, here's the situation.' Nguyen laid her hand on the file she had been reading. 'The Christies' attorney is holding up the bail application because she wants us to drop all charges against her clients.'

'What?' Russ sounded outraged. 'The hell she does! If I hadn't gotten there when I did-'

Nguyen held up one hand. 'In exchange,' she stressed, 'they will drop their suit against you and the Millers Kill Police Department for assault and battery.'

Russ rocked back, threatening to tip the flimsy chair.