Cut to the Bone(74)

“Where are you?” she wondered to the rumpled bed.

“Getting more head scans,” Winslow said, appearing from around the corner.

“Why?” Emily said, frozen as Fargo in December.

“Computer crash,” Winslow said, looking disgusted. “It ate Marty’s results along with a few dozen others. He’s at the head of the line, but it’ll still be an hour. Maybe two. Sorry.”

Emily thawed. “At least he’s all right.”

“Absolutely.”

“I’m heading to the station, then. The more of us working-”

“-the quicker you catch the guy,” Winslow said. “By all means, go.”

Annie had retrieved her car from Lee Ann’s and parked it in the south garage, so Emily headed for the exit. “Call me the minute I can see him?” she called back.

“The second,” Winslow said.

“Want a break from the road?” the choir director shouted over “Crown of Glory.”

The minister nodded and pulled onto the shoulder. They switched places. He stretched as the bus rejoined traffic, then headed to his granddaughter, who was sitting by herself in the back.

“How you doing, kiddo?” he asked, snapping the purple rubber band in her ponytail.

“Fine, Grandpa,” she said, looking up from SpongeBob Jesus. “But how come you aren’t?”

That startled him. “What do you mean?”

“You’re sad,” she said. “I can tell.”

“Really? How?”

“Your eyes get all shiny,” she said. “And your mouth goes like this.” She crooked each little finger and pulled down the corners, flattening her cheeks.

“That’s a very interesting observation,” he said.

“Thank you,” she said, her sit-in-place curtsy exposing her knobby knees. She tugged her pink dress over them. “How come you’re sad, Grandpa?”

He sighed. “Well, capital punishment is a very sad thing. We’re doing the Lord’s work, driving to Naperville to protest this execution. But that doesn’t mean it’s fun.”

“No, it isn’t,” she said, pouting. “I want to go home.”

The comment puzzled him. With the toys, coloring books, candy, and ceaseless doting from charmed older congregants, she’d been Little Miss Sunshine since Boise.

“Why would you want to turn around, honey?” he asked. “You know how important this trip is to everyone.”

“Because I don’t like it when you’re not happy, Grandpa. It’s icky, and I hate it.”

He smiled. “Me, too.”

She put her hands on her bony hips. Same way her mother did when annoyed with Reverend Daddy. “Then why go there?”

He closed his eyes, having asked himself that 100 times since they left the farewell party. “Because I have to,” he said, hugging her close. “No matter what.”

“Why does it make you sad?”

He steepled his fingers, blew out his breath. “Remember Uncle Earl? He was my brother, and he loved me, and he was really unhappy he couldn’t live long enough to meet you.”

“Sure!” she said, clapping. “I love Uncle Earl! Is that the surprise you told us about in Boise, Grandpa? Is he going to be in Naperville tomorrow?”

“Well, no, honey. He’s in Heaven. But we’re going to Naperville because of him.”

“What do you mean?”

“Uncle Earl protected me from some very bad men when we were little. But I didn’t protect him back. I was scared they’d hurt me, too, so I didn’t help.” He studied her a long time. The choir switched to “Amazing Grace.” “You always help your brother when he’s afraid, right?” he continued. “When the thunderstorms come and he shakes and cries?”

She nodded.

“Well, I didn’t help Uncle Earl like that. I was too scared. I didn’t have a brave big sister to show me how to be courageous.”

She screwed up her face, considering. “That’s why you couldn’t help Uncle Earl?” she asked. “Because you were afraid of the bad men?”

“Yes,” Daniel Monroe said.

He still was.

So much had changed since he threw those hand grenades. His brother was dead. His parents were dead. The cemetery where they rested had been dug up for the expansion of Chicago O’Hare Airport. Their boyhood home was a six-lane highway, the abandoned gasoline station where Earl’s crew hung out, a bustling suburban minimart. All he had left were memories. And the dull ache in his arm where Teddy Rehnt blackjacked him to enforce Earl’s will . . .

His granddaughter was motioning him to lean over. He complied.