Sixteen

Dave felt dizzy for a minute, leaning against the women on both sides of him. He wasn’t sure if that Hollower simply meant to echo the last thing the dead one had said to them, or if maybe—

His brain swallowed the second thought. He wouldn’t consider it, wouldn’t entertain the possibility.

Sean ran to Cheryl and buried his face in her stomach. He laughed and it dissolved, as laughter sometimes does, into tears of relief.

“Let me walk you home, baby,” she cooed at him, and he nodded into her top. Taking his hand, she started with him across the street. Erik, DeMarco, and Dave with Sally in tow followed to the far curb, but Cheryl brought him up to the door.

The boy put a hand on the knob, glanced back once at her, then peered around her to the others. “Thank you.” To her he repeated it specifically: “Thank you, Cheryl.”

It looked as if he wanted to say more, but couldn’t think of anything that better said what his “thank you” encompassed. Cheryl gave him a hug, then waved as he disappeared through the door.

When she turned back to them, there were tears in her eyes, but she was smiling.

“We did it,” she whispered. She walked up to Dave and kissed him, and nothing had ever felt so good, so complete to him. He slipped his free arm around her waist, wanting to hold on to her forever. He thought that maybe he could—not because he was a great protector or a brilliant man or even a brave one, but because he earnestly cared about her, and he thought she knew he would try, at least, to be everything else to her that he’d never thought he could be to anyone.

When the kiss ended, and the others, with embarrassed grins, nodded toward the car, he held her hand as they crossed the street.

At the detective’s car, Erik limped over to DeMarco, who was returning her gun to its holster, and stuck out a hand.

“You take care of yourself, Erik.” She pulled him into a hug instead, and although he winced in pain, he smiled.

“Don’t think I can do much more damage than this, eh? Hey, tell Detective Mendez I said hi when you see him, okay?”

DeMarco pulled away from him, looking pained for a moment, but then she said, “You got it.”

To Dave and Cheryl, she said, “We should take Sally to the hospital.”

Dave nodded, and caught the detective’s eye. She winked at him, then leaned in and said, “She’s lucky to have a big brother like you.”

He didn’t know if he had ever been a good big brother or not, but he thought that maybe it had never been about fixing her, or keeping her from falling apart. Maybe it had always simply been about keeping her comfortable and safe, and not beating himself up because he couldn’t do more.

He smiled. “Thank you, Detective.”

“How about you, Anita—are you okay?”

DeMarco waved Cheryl’s question away. “I’m fine. I’m a tough broad.”

“And your cases?”

DeMarco grinned at Cheryl as she opened her car door. “You folks are gonna cost me a hell of a lot of confusing paperwork. But I’ll survive.” She got in the car, then leaned out her window, waiting for them to pull away to follow them out of the development.

Dave put Sally in the passenger seat. She sank against the fabric and smiled up at him, but her eyes were vacant. He wasn’t sure she even recognized who he was. Erik got in behind her, and Cheryl next to him, and Dave drove them all away from River Falls Road.

They dropped Erik off first, at home. He said he’d go to the hospital later, but right then, the most important thing was that he get home. He only wanted to see his girlfriend. Not just see her but feel her, to make sure she was okay. Dave could understand that.

She likely had been waiting by the window, since she came running out to greet him before he’d even managed to hobble too far from the car. She hugged him, almost hugged through him, and he hugged her back.

He waved good-bye as Dave, Cheryl, and DeMarco pulled away from the curb, but neither he nor his girl let go, nor even looked up. Dave suspected it would be a long time before either of them did.

DeMarco discovered her police radio worked on the way to the hospital, when it crackled to life, startling her out of worried thoughts about Bennie.

It was his voice, though, that came through.

“DeMarco, where the hell are you?”

She frowned, picking up the radio to respond. “Bennie?”

“Yeah. Where’ve you been for the last few hours? We were at sixty-eight River Run Road, then radioed the station, then went back to the station, then went to sixty-eight River Falls Road, then radioed in again—”

“Bennie, is it you?”

A pause, then, “Yeah, An, it’s me. You sound funny. You okay? What happened to you?” His voice, gentle, sounded concerned.

She eyed the car ahead of her, full of weary bodies and tired spirits. “Nothing. Nothing, I’m fine.”

“Did you check out the Feinstein place? Everything okay?”

“Fine. Yeah. I found the Kohlar woman wandering around inside. Her brother and I are taking her to the hospital now.”

“Wanna tell me about it?” Cop hunch. He knew something was up—something unprotocol, something off-kilter. She could hear it in his voice.

“Yeah, I do, actually. Later. Later, I want to tell you a lot of things. You gonna be around?”

“Sure.” He sounded pleased. “For you, Annie, I’m always around.”

She smiled. “Good. ’Cause I like you around.”

In the background, she heard Rubelli’s voice singsong an “oooooooh” reminiscent of grade school teases.

“Shut up, man,” Bennie said, but she could hear laughter through the radio. To her, he said, “See you later?”

“Looking forward to it.” Then she clicked off with him, and radioed the station.

Inside, she felt warm and giggly. May was right about her feelings for Bennie Mendez, but then, May was always right.