She said, “Cam, would you like another glass of wine since you’re not driving tonight?”
Sherlock handed her a glass of chardonnay, watched her chug it down, keeping one eye on Jack, a bit of appalled comprehension on her face. Sherlock looked over at Dillon, who was eyeing the two of them. He could thank her later for that very smooth move. He did want Jack to transfer out of the New York Field Office and come to Washington. And after tonight, who knew? Dillon might get his wish.
After Ruth and Ollie left, Savich walked Astro to his favorite oak tree down the block. It was clear and warm, a beautiful night, the stars vivid in the sky. His neighbors’ lights were going off, one after the other. It had been a long, nonstop week for both him and Sherlock and all the agents visiting them tonight. He looked forward to relaxing and playing with Sean over the weekend, trying to put their world back into place, life back into perspective. When Astro finished with his oak tree of choice, he gave a little bark and a hop, raised his head for Savich to praise him, which he did. Satisfied, Astro pranced back to the Savich driveway.
Two hours later, Hotel Savich was quiet, all the lights out. Both Sean and Astro were snuggled together and sound asleep. Jack lay on his back in Sean’s room on a single bed, his feet hanging off the end, his head pillowed in his arms. He got up, looked down at Sean, listened to him snort a couple of times, petted Astro’s head, and made his way quietly to the guest room.
He opened the door, looked over at the bed, and smiled. He didn’t know what had taken him so long to decide about Cam Wittier. It was time to try his hand at spooning.
EPILOGUE
ARTHUR CHILDERS’S HOSPITAL ROOM
WASHINGTON MEMORIAL HOSPITAL
WASHINGTON, D.C.
FRIDAY MORNING
Alex slept pressed against Kara’s heart, his fist in his mouth. “I’m glad you’re asleep,” she whispered, kissing his forehead, “because the milk truck is empty.” She smiled hugely, rocking him.
Kara laid her sleeping baby into his bassinet, and walked back to sit beside Arthur and started talking, so used to speaking to him she didn’t even think about it. “They told me your name is Arthur Childers. I still can’t get my brain around everything that’s happened since you burst into my house last Sunday, a crazy man I’d never seen before in my life. Can you believe what’s happened? Well, of course you can’t, you haven’t even been here. But it’s over now, Arthur. You’re safe, and Alex is safe. Everything will be all right as soon as you heal up, as soon as you wake up. The marks on your skin are fading, and Dr. Wordsworth says you’re getting better every day.
“Sherlock says you’re thirty-eight, and it’s that fountain of youth drug that makes you look younger than I am. I told you I have your whole bio now. Agent Sherlock uploaded it to my tablet. You’re a scientist, you work at NASA, officially still on a sabbatical to work with scientists at the Sondheim Institute in Stockholm, but of course you never showed up.”
She paused a moment, turned to look back toward Alex. “Imagine that, Alex, your daddy is a rocket scientist. Maybe he was working on a spaceship to Mars.” She turned back, lightly touched her fingertips to Arthur’s cheek, squeezed his hand. “You realize I don’t blame you for any of what happened. You didn’t inject your sperm into my cervix, that was Dr. Lister Maddox. As for Sylvie, I have to admit I really was a gullible fool. I fell for her instant friendship-kismet deal right away. I’m still angry at what she did, and I hope they put her in jail. As for Dr. Maddox, I hope they shove him in a black hole somewhere, forever. Yet isn’t it amazing what came out of an evil man’s plans? We got Alex. And we got each other.”
She squeezed his hand. “Sherlock told me your wife died in an automobile accident five years ago, and you don’t have any children. I’m very sorry about that, but now you have a son. I can’t imagine what your parents will say when they see you again. Sherlock said she’s contacting them today, and when you wake up, you and I can talk to them together. It will be difficult, trying to explain to them what happened to you. We’ll see what Sherlock recommends.”
His breathing stayed smooth and even.
“I hope you never remember too much about what happened to you. I really don’t understand it all, but I do know it all has to do with your genome and mine, and ours being somehow special.
“Did you understand what he was doing to you? Or did he keep you drugged to your gills the whole time you were his test subject, his prisoner? I have a hard time not wanting to kill him, Arthur, shoot him dead for what he did to you, and what he planned to do to Alex and me. I am so grateful you managed to escape him and come to me. To us.”
She lightly squeezed his hand, warm, alive. “It’s good to have everyone gone, to have some silence again. Are you tired of hearing my voice? Do you want me to stop? Sorry, not going to happen.
“Arthur, five days have passed and my life has changed so much. When you wake up, you’ll see that yours has changed as well, and for the better. I pray you’ll give Alex and me a chance.”
She heard Alex sucking on his fingers, the only sound in the silence.
“I like your name. Arthur Childers, well, Dr. Arthur Childers. Do you have a nickname, like Art or Artie? I think I prefer Arthur, it’s a good name, a solid name.” Kara leaned close, whispered against his cheek. “Arthur, it’s really time for you to wake up and meet your son.”
He lay so quiet, so very quiet, and he breathed slowly and steadily. She got up and picked up Alex, burped him, and snuggled him against her. She rocked him, sat down again. “Arthur, everyone wants you to wake up. There are questions only you can answer.”
Kara fell silent. She was out of words. She leaned close, lightly kissed his slack mouth. “Arthur, it’s time for you to wake up before I become permanently hoarse from talking so much. I think I’ve told you about every minute of my life, all my twenty-seven years. I hope you won’t think I’m stupid. You know I’m an artist, not a scientist.”
Alex gave a little shudder.
“What are you dreaming about, sweetheart?” She held him close, kept rocking him. He was deeply asleep. She carried him to his bassinet and tucked him in once more, then returned to her vigil beside Arthur Childers’s bed. She felt exhaustion hit her like a hammer. She fell asleep holding his hand.
She awoke slowly, aware of a man’s voice very close to her. “You’re—Kara.” He spoke slowly, his voice slurred.
She raised her head and looked into beautiful eyes as green as moss. He smiled at her.
“Hello, Arthur. I’m glad you’re back. Would you like to meet your son?”
“My son—Alex.”
EPILOGUE
THE WILLOWS
BALTIMORE, MARYLAND
FRIDAY NOON
Hannah gently wiped the smear of lentil soup off his mouth, offered another spoonful, pressing down on his lower lip. He took the soup in, swallowed, turned his head away, and closed his eyes.
“That tasted good, didn’t it, Beau? You rest now while I read to you. It’s a Hercule Poirot mystery. Remember you always liked Agatha Christie?”
Hannah rose, leaned down, and kissed his forehead, ran her fingers over his beautiful face, lightly stroked her fingers through his thick hair.