Blunt Impact (32 page)

‘I don’t know how Jack found out about Ghost’s obsession with finding her father,’ Theresa murmured. ‘Somehow he did, and he used it to get close to her. But she recognized his belt buckle – a large star behind a steer’s head.’

Frank approached them. He gave Ian the usual skeevy look to let him know he didn’t approve of his cousin’s choice of moral support, but Ian couldn’t blame him. He was, after all, a pretty odd-looking duck. No doubt about it.

It had never bothered him less.

Without preamble, Frank told them: ‘Kobelski will be picked up by Finney, since we were kind enough to give him the written evidence in the form of a fake ASTM specs book. And do we get a word of thanks from the Super Special State Investigator?’ He didn’t bother to answer himself.

Ian sighed. ‘I’d better call him.’ He slowly removed himself from Theresa’s side. The frigid emergency room air sucked into his wet clothes, right where her body had been, but somehow his skin stayed warmed by a heat that welled up from the center of his being.

It felt good.

Frank waited until Ian had been forced around the corner by a team of doctors and nurses wielding a crash cart, and then turned to his cousin. ‘I know you, Tess. That puppy-dog adoration is going to be fun for about a week and then it’s going to get on your nerves.’

Theresa rubbed one eye, elongating a tiny smear of mascara the rain had left behind. ‘Maybe. But you know what? I spent sixteen years married to a man who never, ever, not once even considered putting me first. So a little adoration might be just what I’m looking for.’

He studied her for a moment, then shook his head and used one thumb to rub off the mascara. ‘I get it. We’re all searching for something. Problem is it doesn’t always work out to be what we expected.’

A nurse brought Ghost in, hair still damp but wrapped in two child-sized hospital gowns with pink kitties on them. As soon as she saw her grandmother she hurtled herself across the room and up on to the bed before any of the nurses could begin to react. Mrs Zebrowski winced, winced again as the little girl snuggled into the area under her arm and wedged one temple into the older woman’s shoulder, but then the lines in her face relaxed into a beatific smile. She laid one cheek on the child’s hair and closed her eyes.

Ghost also screwed her eyes shut, so tight it seemed that she might be afraid to open them – not surprising, after what she’d been through. One fist clenched her grandmother’s blanket, and if she heard the nurses speaking to her, she ignored them.

‘For example,’ Frank said, putting an arm around Theresa’s shoulders, ‘Ghost found her father, but just in time for him to go to jail.’

She said, ‘Maybe it won’t be for long, if he can convince a jury that Kyle’s death was manslaughter and not murder.’

‘I guess Nana and a team of social workers can decide when and how to break it to Ghost. Maybe – maybe we should just let her keep believing her father really was Sam’s prom date.’

‘No.’ Theresa gazed through the glass. ‘She deserves the truth. She searched too long and too hard to get it.’

As if she’d heard her, Ghost’s eyes flew open, staring directly at Theresa. The hand unclenched slightly. The corners of her mouth turned up, and her lips formed two words.

Thank you.

Theresa pressed her hand to the window, feeling the cool glass against her skin.

There are, so far as I know, absolutely no plans to raze the Administration building.

I also invented the temporary aluminum forms for concrete pouring that Sam Zebrowski may or may not have been scrapping.

And to my great agent, Vicky Bijur – thank you for not giving up on me.

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