Crissy walked into the room.
The professor stared at her with disbelief and dismay, and then with fury. He stood up, his placid features becoming congested with malice. “You. You ruined it!” It was a high-pitched scream more than a shout. “Because of you, they wouldn’t let me into the inner sanctum! I, a professor. I who is more intelligent than the rest of them put together. I who wrote the book on it!”
He continued the rant long after Crissy had calmly turned her back on him and walked out, leaving him in the charge of his interrogators who had to physically restrain him.
Chapter 39
The professor’s outburst amounted to an admission of guilt, although unintentional. Crissy made arrangements with Derby to return in the morning to provide an official statement; then they were released to go.
Barker put up a monumental protest over John’s freedom to simply walk out. His tirade turned nasty when he got in Derby’s face and asked just what kind of operation he was running here.
“I’m glad you asked,” Derby calmly replied. “This operation investigates homicides that take place in the parish. Since you were one of the last people to see the ogre alive, I was going to bring you in for questioning. Thanks for saving me the trouble. This way, Tom,” he said, smiling as he and another deputy led him, sputtering invectives, into an interrogation room.
John had the satisfaction of witnessing that scene; then he and Beth left to drive Crissy and Carla home. On the way, the latter said little. Her aspect remained defensive.
As they got out of the car, Crissy thanked Beth for the role she’d played in identifying Victor Wallace. “If it weren’t for you…” She choked up and couldn’t finish.
“I’m just glad you’ve been liberated,” Beth said. “At long last.”
She hung back while John walked the two women to their front door, where Crissy bade him good night and apologized again for bringing so much hardship on him. He said, “I’m grateful you’re alive. That’s what matters most.” She smiled at him shyly before slipping inside.
He was left on the porch with Carla, whom he faced squarely. “I have something for you.” He reached into his jacket pocket and took out the thumb drive, which he’d removed earlier from its secret holder in his boot.
He took her hand, laid it in her palm, and closed her fingers around it. “If you ever doubt how much I anguished over Crissy, Billy, Gracie, read through all that. It represents over three years of my life.”
She pulled her hand from his. “Let me ask you something, Detective Bowie. Fearing for your daughter’s life—”
“I was. Last night at this time.”
“You were fortunate enough to catch that degenerate in time. I wasn’t. We didn’t know who he was or when he might reappear. In my position, how far would you have gone to protect your daughter?”
It was a sobering thought. He would ponder it. But on some other night. He was taking the rest of this one off.
“John, look! It’s started.” Beth took his hand and dragged him along behind her as she ran through the woods from the camo garage to the clearing in front of the fishing cabin. Earth’s shadow had begun to appear on the moon. “It won’t be total for a while yet.”
Looking up, he said, “Wallace got his hoped-for clear night. Too bad the only thing he’ll see overhead is the ceiling of his jail cell.”
As soon as John opened the cabin door, Mutt leaped across the threshold, obviously having urgent business to attend to outside.
John called the nurses’ station on Molly’s ward and was told she’d been soundly sleeping and that her vitals were excellent. “If she wakes up, remind her that she can call me at any time and that I’ll be there first thing in the morning for sure.”
He then called Mitch and started by asking him, “Are you sitting down?”
He gave him a condensed version of everything that had transpired since they’d last seen each other.
When he finished, Mitch was practically speechless. “John, would you have ever thought it? That she was alive, I mean.”
“Honestly, no. Hoped, but you know how these disappearances usually end. Remains are found, sometimes years later. I thought that’s what would happen here.”
“Me too.” Mitch then asked how Molly was doing.
“She was a little weepy when I left her tonight, but she’s as okay as she can be. It’ll take some time and therapy.”
“She’s got you. That’s the main thing.”
“Thank you again for today, Mitch. Actually for all the days I was… not myself.”
“No thanks necessary.”
“No, they are. Thanks for always being there.”
“Are you getting sloppy on me?”
“Hell, no. It’s just that I owe you more than I can ever repay.”
“Okay. Tell you what. We’ll be square if you get me through the christening and after-party without me killing my mother-in-law.”
“Tall order.”
“Tell me.” They laughed, then, after a short silence that spoke volumes, Mitch said, “Later, bro,” and clicked off.
While he’d been on the phone, Beth had uncorked a bottle of wine. With it and two mismatched glasses in her hands, she said, “Do you mind watching?”
“After the buildup it’s had, I wouldn’t miss it.”