“My father hated him,” she said. “Said he was a weakling. He even said it to Frank’s face once. But he was such a sweet man, and so funny. He always knew how to make me laugh. Lord, how can I leave him like this?”
She moved toward Frank’s body, but I caught hold of her and steered her toward Walt. “Take her now. Right away.”
Arlene pressed the keys into Walt’s hand. “Don’t worry,” Walt said. “This sort of trouble can be cleared up pretty quickly. Then we’ll get you back to see about your Frank.”
Someone had finally brought keys for the door. Security guards unlocked it and swung it open, peering carefully around the doorjamb as if afraid we might start shooting at them.
The hall was full of blood and bodies. Wiley Dubois was gone. Had they taken his body away, or had he survived the silver I had jammed down his throat?
“They cut him open,” Walt said to me. “Emmett and Luke cut Wiley open like he was a fish and dug that bit of silver out of him. I guess the fat son of a somethin’ must have survived.”
“Guess so.” I gently shoved the others toward the door, and we all walked into the hall. “Don’t look at them,” I said. “Just keep going.” Something heavy banged against my hip. I still had Cabot’s gun in my pocket. I’d forgotten all about it.
“Hold it right there,” a man said. He stepped through the bodies to bar our way. He was wearing a cheap suit and a name tag that identified him as head of security. “You’re all going to have to wait for the police.”
Miriam started laughing. It was a frightening sound.
Arlene stepped up to the man in the suit. “It was the police who did all this.”
A young woman in a doctor’s jacket came around the edge of the hallway and moved toward the bodies. She knelt down and began checking Rev. Wilson for life signs. She didn’t look like she expected to find any.
“What are you saying?”
Arlene stepped up close to the head of security and read his name carefully. “Listen to me, Mr. Arnold Reyes. Luke Dubois just killed the mayor, and several of the people who tried to stop him. We’re going to take the mayor’s wife out of town until the FBI, state police, or an angry mob does something about the Dubois brothers. Hopefully, it will be something brutal that leaves them in lots of tiny pieces. And if you try to contact Emmett, or if you get in our way, you’re going to be very glad that you’re already in a hospital.”
Mr. Arnold Reyes let Walt and Miriam pass. “Who’s going to explain this?”
The young doctor stood. “They’re all dead,” she said. I gestured toward Arlene’s hand. The doctor bent over the injury and studied it carefully with gloved hands. “This will need to be bandaged, but no stitches, I should think.”
I looked up. Cynthia was standing beside me. The cardiologist was right beside her. He looked rattled. Cynthia was pale. I let out a deep, relieved sigh. They’d found a safe way inside after all.
“This dude is going to explain it all,” I said to Arnold Reyes and waved to the cardiologist. “Come here, hero. You get to tell everyone what happened.”
“But I don’t know what happened.” The tall doctor looked like he wanted to flee down the stairs and never come back.
“Did you recognize the cop that was here?”
“Um, yes.”
“Did you hear him say what he came for?”
“The mayor.”
“You’re the spokesman. I’m going to see that these other people get to a safe place.” I took Cynthia’s arm and started to lead them away.
“Where’s Frank?” Cynthia asked.
I shook my head at her, and she stepped back. “I’m going to stay here. That doctor isn’t going to be able to explain it all.”
“All right,” I said. “Don’t say anything that will sound crazy.”
She smiled at me. She looked terribly fragile. “Give me some credit. I’m going to want to see you again later. My place?”
I nodded to her, then started to push Walt and Miriam through the doors. Arlene trailed behind, with the doctor holding her hand. No one spoke.
At the doors to the parking lot, the doctor made Arlene go to the ER. I led Walt and Miriam outside.
“I’m sorry,” I said as Miriam was about to get in the car.
She threw her arms around my neck. I could feel her tears smearing on my face. “Lord bless you,” she said.
They got into the car and drove away.
I walked back to the ER and watched Arlene get bandaged up. She filled out some paperwork, and then it was time to go. As we walked toward the parking lot, I looked through the glass doors and saw Annalise’s van parked out there. Annalise stood beside it, waiting for me.
“Now what?” Arlene asked me.
“Call a friend and ask for a ride home.”
I walked through the doors into the gray afternoon. Arlene followed closely behind. “No,” she said. “I can’t go home and wait. It would kill me. I have to know.”
