“What happened?” Ashley presses, clearly not satisfied with my answer.

“That’s all I can tell you, Ashley. It’s your father’s story to tell you,” I reply. “All I can say is that your father didn’t mean to hurt anybody. That much I know.”

“Ashley!”

We both turn to see Senator Barlow and the other parents climbing out of an SUV. Lieb slides out of the driver’s side, and when he sees Ashley standing next to me, alive and relatively unscathed, he flashes the first smile I’ve ever seen on the man’s face. Barlow runs over and scoops his daughter up in his arms, tears spilling down both their faces. The same scene is playing out with the other kids as they’re reunited with their families.

“It’s a beautiful thing to see,” Astra says.

I give a start, then turn to her. “Dear God, you need to wear a bell. How long have you been standing there?”

She laughs. “Long enough. But now it’s time for you to go to the hospital and get that arm looked at. And that’s an order.”

I scoff. “Yeah, okay. I think I’m going to take a page out of your playbook when it comes to following orders.”

“So, you’re okay with that wound getting infected and them having to chop your arm off when gangrene sets in?”

“Hey, maybe if they chop off my arm, you’ll have to disarm the next bomb.”

“Not on your life, lady.”

“Okay, okay,” I say. “Let’s go.”

I take one last look at the reunited families and smile. Not even the shadow of what these people did to bring the darkness down on their children can dull the shine of a happy ending—or as close to a happy ending as we’re going to get. The coroner slamming the doors of his van shut, ready to transport Townsend’s remains back to his office, is a stark reminder that the conclusion of this case isn’t happy for everybody.

What Townsend did was wrong. Monstrous. But he never should have been in a position where his lust for revenge overcame his innate human decency. That happened because of the people standing in front of me and the monstrous decisions that were made the night they killed Sean Townsend. That’s the true origin of the ripple that’s cutting a path of destruction through the lives of so many.

We turn away to walk back to the SUV so Astra can take me to the hospital to get me patched up. With my luck, they’re going to want to keep me overnight. I’m really not in the mood for a hospital stay. I have a feeling, though, that if I try to opt out, Astra will have something to say about it, and I’m not really in the mood to argue with her either. I guess I’m going to have to decide which I’m less in the mood for.

“Chief Wilder?”

Senator Barlow’s voice stops me, and I hesitate for a beat before turning around, wishing I’d gotten out while the getting was good. A hospital stay seems far more preferable to the conversation I’m about to have. Barlow’s eyes are shining, and his cheeks are wet with tears.

“I… I wanted to thank you and your team,” he says. “I know that’s not nearly enough… there’s no way I can ever really thank you for saving my daughter’s life, but… thank you.”

The smile that flickers across my lips probably looks as fake as it feels on my lips. With everything I know about what they did that night so long ago, I can’t seem to manage to summon up a real one for him.

“Just doing our job, Senator. But you’re welcome,” I say.

He looks down, his face clouding over. “Given what happened and what you learned, I can’t imagine what you must be thinking about us—about me—right now.”

“You really can’t.”

“That’s fair,” he says. “But we never set out—”

“It doesn’t matter what you set out to do. It only matters what you did. Or in the case of your parents, what was done for you all,” I say. “A boy lost his life, Senator. And none of you have ever faced the consequences for it.”

“That wasn’t our choice. We never asked our folks to do that.”

“But you never said no either. You all went along with it.”

He looks down again, and for the first time, I can see what looks like regret on his face. He sniffs loudly and wipes away the tears that are welling in his eyes.

“You may not believe me, but I am sorry for what happened—and for what I allowed to happen,” he says. “There aren’t many days that go by that I don’t think about it… that I don’t remember what happened that night.”

“Well, fortunately for you, there aren’t any more Townsends who will be coming around looking for payback. You’re all safe,” I say.

He licks his lips and looks away for a moment, and I can see the wheels turning in his head as he tries to compartmentalize it all. Uncertainty flashes in his eyes in the face of my angry outburst, and like the political animal he is, I can see him starting to worry about the potential fallout.

“What are you going to do, Chief Wilder?” he asks softly.

“There’s nothing I can do even if I wanted to,” I tell him. “Your parents did such a good job cleaning up the record that I can’t touch a single one of you. As far as the law is concerned, none of you were involved in a car accident that night. You’re all clean. Like I said, you don’t have to worry about retribution from anybody named Townsend… or from me. But I think you’re going to have to have a very difficult conversation with your daughter. She knows, Senator.”

“You—”

I cut him off with a shake of my head. “No. Not from me. Townsend told her. He told them all. He wanted them to know why he was doing it. And she obviously has some questions.”

Barlow shuffles his feet and looks down at his shoes again, the discomfort on his face clear. This is obviously not the conversation he was expecting to have. But he clears his throat and clenches his jaw, raising his gaze to stare firmly into my eyes as he puts on that carefully crafted political mask again.

“Thank you, Chief Wilder. I truly am in your debt,” he says.

“All I need is for you to hold up your end of the bargain and make this OPR situation go away.”

“You have my word. It’ll be done.”

“Thank you, Senator. And good luck to you.”

He nods. “And to you as well.”

He walks back to join his daughter and the others as they embrace their children tightly, none of them seeming to want to let them go for fear that they’ll be taken again. Astra puts her arm around my shoulders and steers me away from the scene and toward the SUV.

“I’m not sure lighting him up like that was the most politically savvy thing to do, Blake.”

I shrug. “I couldn’t stop myself once I got rolling. But it doesn’t matter. We had a deal. A business transaction. And I may think he’s a scumbag personally, but I trust him enough to know he’ll hold up his end of the bargain.”

“I really hope you’re right, Blake. I really do.”

“I hope so too,” I say as I slip into the passenger side of the SUV.

The Capitol Café, Georgetown District; Washington DC

“I’m glad to see you’re all right,” DD Church says.

My arm is still in a sling, and I’ve still got some ugly-looking bruises on my face and body, but I’m expected to make a full recovery soon enough. Not soon enough for my liking though. I don’t like being put on the disabled list, but until I’m cleared by a physical therapist, they won’t let me back on active duty.