“We wanted to give it to her . . . ,” a nurse said.
“They weren’t allowed,” Lenora said.
“Why not?”
“I think you know why.”
“You were trying to erase us—Gabe, Tabby, and me. You wanted her to forget us.”
“We thought it would be more painful than helpful to remind her,” Lenora said.
“That’s just wrong. And I’m the one in trouble!” Jo held the kitten against her crutch handle and walked from behind the desk, the balloon fluttering against her head.
Lenora clucked her tongue and shook her head. “Aren’t you a match for Miss Ursa, though?”
They continued down the corridor, past rooms mostly occupied by elderly people attached to machines. Jo’s stomach fluttered with anticipation when she saw the policeman seated next to Ursa’s room. The policeman stood, his hand on his holster.
“It’s all right,” Lenora said. “I’m letting them in.”
The officer gave her a questioning gaze.
“My girl ain’t gonna talk if we don’t,” she said. “I think we’ve established that well enough.”
The officer stepped aside for Jo. Ursa was seated in her hospital bed, remnants of her lunch spread on a rolling table in front of her. She was intently studying the IV in her arm.
“Oh no you don’t, young lady!” Lenora said. “Don’t even think about pulling that out again.”
Ursa looked up guiltily. But when she saw Jo and Gabe, her expression turned to pure joy. “Jo! Gabe!” she said.
Jo moved toward her as fast as the crutches would allow. She put the kitten on the bed and leaned into Ursa’s outstretched arms. They cried and held each other for a few minutes. Then Gabe did the same as Lenora and a nurse watched from the doorway.
When Gabe let Ursa go, Jo showed her the kitten and balloon. “This is from Tabby.”
Ursa pressed the kitten to her cheek. “I love him! He’s like Caesar! Is Tabby here?”
“She was here for a long time, but she had to go back to work,” Jo said.
“You and Gabe were here, too?”
“Ever since what happened,” Jo said.
Ursa glowered at Lenora. “I knew it! I knew they were here!”
“You got me cold, little lady,” Lenora said. “But I only ever wanted you to get better.”
“Are you going to let me live with Jo and Tabby?”
“Let’s just enjoy the moment,” Lenora said. She sat in a chair in the corner.
“Are you going to finish your lunch?” the nurse asked Ursa.
“I don’t like it.”
“You asked for macaroni and cheese.”
“You have to make it from the blue box,” Ursa said, “and the shapes make it taste better.”
“Try Star Wars shapes next time,” Jo told the nurse.
“Don’t think our kitchen has that,” the nurse said, picking up the tray.
“Now that Jo is here, she can bring some,” Ursa said.
Jo rolled the table away and sat on the edge of the bed. Gabe pulled over a chair. Jo held Ursa’s hand. “Do you feel okay?”
Her brown eyes melted into gloom. “Is Little Bear dead?”
Jo took Ursa’s hand in both of hers and held tight. “He is. I’m very sorry.”
A sob burst from her chest, and tears dripped down her cheeks.
“I’m so proud of him,” Jo said. “He saved both of us. You know that, right?”
Ursa nodded, crying.
“When you get better, we’ll have a nice funeral for him.”
“With a cross?”
“I can make one,” Gabe said.
“Where is he?” she asked Gabe.
“He’s buried in the woods near the Kinney house,” he said.
Ursa cried harder, and Jo held her again.
“What’s wrong with your leg?” Ursa asked when her tears subsided.
“One of the men shot the back of my thigh.”
More tears. “I’m sorry, Jo! It’s my fault! It’s my fault you got hurt and Little Bear is dead!”
“No, it isn’t! None of what happened was your fault. Don’t ever think that.”
“I should have told you! I was pretty sure they were following us . . .”
“You were scared. It’s okay.”
Ursa looked at Gabe. “The police said you killed them.”
“Yes,” he said.
“Are you in trouble?”
“No.”
Jo drew tissues from the box on the table and wiped Ursa’s runny nose. She used another to dab her tears.
“I love you, Jo,” Ursa said.
“I love you, too, love bug.”
She smiled. “You called me that the night I got shot. That was when I figured out that you love me.”
“My mom used to call me love bug—even when I grew up.”
“I wish I had my pencils. I just got an idea for something to draw.”
“What?”
“A love bug. It will be pink with purple spots. Its eyes will be big, and it will have long antennas.”
“It sounds cute.”
“I’ll draw pink and red hearts all around it.”
“There’s an office store near my hotel,” Gabe said. “How about I get you colored pencils and paper?”
“Not now! You have to stay!” She turned to Jo. “I forgot! I forgot to tell you why I stayed after the fifth miracle.”
“Why did you?”
“Because I decided to stay with you. When you said you loved me and maybe would adopt me, I wanted that more than anything. Even more than my own planet. I was in the stars when I decided to come back.”
“Were you?”
“Yes! It was all glittery and black and really pretty. But I only wanted you, and I tried hard to get back to you.”
Jo kissed her cheek. “I’m glad you came back.”
Ursa glanced at Lenora. “I’m not staying if they don’t let me be with you.”
“Let’s not worry about that yet, okay?” Jo said.
“I do worry about it—all the time. When they lied and said you weren’t here, I tried to run away and find you.”
“Twice, as a matter of fact,” Lenora said.
“That reminds me,” Gabe said. He rummaged in his backpack and pulled out his battered copy of The Runaway Bunny. “I brought this for you.”
“Will you read it?” Ursa said.
“I sure will.”
Jo changed places with him so he could show her the pictures as he read.
“Read it again? Please?” Ursa pleaded when he finished.
He started over. The story had the same lulling effect it had when he’d read it to her at Kinney Cottage. She was nearly asleep when he finished. He and Jo gently stroked her arm until she fell into a deep sleep.
Lenora walked to the bed. “Her pain medication has been reduced, but it still makes her sleepy. Her emotions tend to wear her out, too.” She looked at the door. “Well, I need to eat some lunch before the others get here, and I’m sorry to say you have to go back to the waiting room. She’s not allowed unattended visitors.
“That went well,” Lenora said on their walk back through the ICU. “She’s very comfortable with you two. I think you’ll get her to say what Josh Kellen needs to know.” A nurse opened the outer doors for them. “There’s nothing Kellen hates more than kid killers,” Lenora said. “He has to settle this.” She directed her hand at Jo’s usual chair in the waiting room. “Have a seat, and please don’t go anywhere. As soon as everyone gets here, we’ll all go in and talk to Ursa. Good thing she’ll be well rested.”
Jo and Gabe sat side by side in the waiting room. “Why do I feel like I’m about to do something shitty?” Jo said.
“Because it will be shitty,” he said. “We’re going to make her talk about her mother’s murder.”
“That’s not what I meant. I feel like we’re being forced to trick her. She’s terrified she’ll be separated from us, and they’re going to use that to their advantage.”
“They’re trying to solve a murder, Jo.”
“I know, but that’s a little girl in there. She’s not just a tool to unlock their case.”
34
Two hours later, Lenora Rhodes nearly ran from the elevator to the ICU doors.
“What’s going on?” Jo said.
“She woke up and saw you weren’t there. She’s making a fuss again.”
“I can help,” Jo said.
“No, it’s better if she learns her tantrums don’t work.” She hurried through the doors.
“What the hell?” Jo said.
“Yeah,” Gabe said. “Why not give a sick kid what makes her feel better—especially before she’s got to talk about her dead mother?”
“Because they have their heads up their asses!”
They sat and waited again. A half hour later, Detective Kellen, Deputy McNabb, and a woman with shoulder-length bleached hair stepped out of the elevator. Jo and Gabe stood. “This is Dr. Shaley,” Kellen said, gesturing toward the blonde woman. “She’s Ursa’s state-appointed psychologist.”
Jo and Gabe shook the woman’s hand.
“I heard about your vigil,” Shaley told Jo. “I’m impressed by your dedication. Four days in a hospital waiting room! I hear you bathe in the bathroom.”