Cut to the Bone(82)
“That’s right. The guy from the fire,” Jeanie said. “How’d you know?”
“Lucky guess,” Winslow said.
2:52 a.m.
“Bird Nest to Castle.”
“Go ahead, Nest,” said SWAT Lieutenant Annie Bates.
“Everything’s good down here. How’s it look from the top?”
Annie slapped a mosquito, made one more binocular sweep of the vast crowd.
“We’re surrounded, the poor bastards,” she said.
Branch snorted. “We must be in clover if you’re making jokes.”
“Roger that,” Annie said. Branch was running the combined forces from the bunker near the main gate. She roamed the wide, flat roof of the Justice Center with her weapons specialists and spotters, anticipating problems. “The folks are great. No one appears angry, and there’s no fighting. Just singing, chanting, and praying.”
“A respectful riot?”
Annie chuckled. “Never been in one of those,” she said, repositioning three sharpshooters to other parts of the roof. “But I’ll give alms to all their gods if it stays that way.”
3:01 a.m.
“That was . . . swampy,” Emily breathed, rubbing his pillow on her drenched face.
“Least I can do for you saving my life,” Marty said, stroking her hair. “Friends?”
“Friends,” she said, putting out her hand. “We can do better than that,” Marty said, flicking the top from the Redi-Whip.
3:14 a.m.
“All right, Bowie,” the Executioner said, holding up the checklist he’d been preparing for two years. “Let me know if I’m missing anything. Gun, swallowing knife, honey, keys, letter . . .”
3:22 a.m.
“If I’m your birthday cake,” Emily purred, licking melted whipped cream off her hand, “where’s the candle?”
“You already blew that out,” Marty said.
She started giggling. A few seconds later, he joined her. It turned into full-blown laughter, which they muffled in the sheets.
“Since we’re friends again,” she said when she could talk again. “Tell me about your son.”
His breath caught. Then released.
“What do you want to know?”
“Everything.”
He sighed. “Not much to tell.”
She gave him the hairy eyeball.
“Honest,” Marty said. “There isn’t. That’s one of the problems.”
“But you do know Alice.”
He nodded. “Her name was Alice Caldwell. She was my first true love.”
“I had one of those,” she said. “Didn’t go further than kissing, though.”
“We did,” Marty said. “We fooled around after prom. Didn’t go all the way, but let’s just say I slid hard into third base. A few months later, she tells me she’s pregnant.”
She winced.
“Tell me,” he said dryly. “Her folks were deeply religious, so they decide she’s going to have the baby whether she wants to or not. In February, she delivers a bouncing boy.”
“Happy Valentine’s Day, Daddy.”
Marty chuckled. “He was all spit and vinegar, with hazel eyes and a full head of hair.”
Like you, Emily thought. “Was he healthy?”
“As a lumberjack. Huge lungs on that kid.” He said it a little proud. “Hospital thought there was an earthquake one night, but it was him, crying for mommy’s attention.”
“All you boys do,” she teased. “So, you saw him?”
“I did,” Marty said. “I even got a photo. Curled-up little Polaroid of him and me. Have to dig it out now, since you know.”
“I’d really like that,” Emily said, meaning it. Annie was right. Even though that boy was another woman’s son, he’d been born to Marty, too. That made it part of him.
Part of her.
“So why was Alice calling?” she asked. “And why did you return her call that night?”
“My son needs an operation. He’s got a brain tumor.”
Her breath sucked in like a vacuum.
“It’s OK,” he said, squeezing her hand. “Tumor’s benign. Just in a very tough place to get out, which makes it an extremely expensive surgical procedure. He can’t afford it.”
“He doesn’t have health insurance?”
“No. He started his own business a few years ago and couldn’t swing the premiums.”
“How much does he need?”
“Quarter million. Maybe more.”
“Ouch.”
“Yeah,” Marty said. “Alice doesn’t have it, so she called me. I have no idea where I’m going to get it. With the mortgage, my house isn’t worth that much. I’ll have to borrow it, I guess.” He shook his head. “I wish I’d told you about all this, Em. I really do.”