Merida pantomimed zipping her lip, then signed, “Enjoy your quiet before your busy day.”
“Right. I’ll see ya at the B and B. You going to let me in to clean your room today?” Susie looked so worn down by life, so eager to please. “I promise not to touch any of your stuff, not ever again.”
Merida nodded. Reluctantly, but she nodded.
“Miss, what time you want me in there?” Susie asked.
“I’ll go out for lunch about one. You can do it then.” Merida would make sure she locked her computer in the safe.
“Okay.” Susie looked at Benedict. “You going out with her? To lunch?”
Benedict raised his eyebrows to Merida.
She nodded.
Susie said, “I’ll prep your room, too. There’ll be clean sheets.” Susie looked horrified. “Which … I mean … when you get back, everything else will be clean, too, not just the sheets.”
Merida was already flushed from the run. Thank God, for Susie made such a big deal covering her blooper that Merida blushed.
Benedict, naturally, seemed unaffected. “Sounds good, Susie. We’ll leave you to your view.” He gestured to Merida to go ahead, and when they were out of earshot, he said, “Bathroom cleaner?”
Merida turned around, ran backward and spelled, “She’s … odd.”
He slowed to a walk to watch her. “Clean sheets?” He obviously thought it was funny.
Merida did not want to go there. She spelled, “Probably some new wrapped slivers of soap, too.” She faced forward and took the right into Virtue Falls. They walked through little pocket neighborhoods, past tiny shotgun houses built in the thirties that were now worn from constant exposure to the winds off the ocean and the salt in the air.
“Soap would be good. Yesterday she forgot to leave towels. I had to call before I showered.” Exasperated, he asked, “What kind of maid forgets to leave towels?”
“As I said, odd. And not too bright. Don’t leave out any belongings you don’t want her to investigate.”
“Right. Thanks for the warning.”
As they got closer to the Good Knight Manor Bed and Breakfast, the houses got bigger and usually better kept. Although not always—there was that mansion behind the hedge next to the B and B …
She gave the place a wide berth, stepping into the street and tugging at his arm to steer him around.
“Is it haunted?” he asked. “That house? Is it supposed to be haunted?”
She looked skeptical.
“I wondered. At night, I’ve seen lights over there. Vagrants probably, rather than spooks.”
Sure. Vagrants. Good cover story.
“You going to partake of Phoebe’s excellent breakfast?”
Merida rolled her shoulders uncomfortably.
“Come on. I’m starving and if I go in by myself, Phoebe sits on one side and talks to me and that Palmer woman sits on the other side and talks to me. Phoebe chirps about everything being delightful and Lilith bitches about everything in Virtue Falls including the unceasing sound of the ocean. She seems to think it should be on a sound machine with an off switch.” He perfectly captured the two women’s personalities.
Merida signed, “Wow, you know how to sweet-talk a girl into getting your way.”
He waited.
“All right, I’ll come to breakfast.”
“And lunch.”
“And lunch. But in between, I have to work.”
His voice went from amused to grim. “So do I.”
She glanced at him.
He looked grim. Good. Maybe he sensed the shift in the ground beneath his feet, the violence of the oncoming earthquake, his inevitable destruction.
She hoped so. She hoped he had started to worry.
CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR
Kateri woke. She lay on her side. Her arm was asleep, dangling off the cot. Her mouth was dry and tasted like cotton.
All in all, she felt better.
She opened her eyes. She didn’t remember falling asleep, didn’t remember anything after promising Rainbow she would stay, but now she rested on a cot in Rainbow’s hospital room, a weight on her waist held her down, and if she was supposed to be keeping Rainbow company through the night, she had been a miserable failure.
“You awake?” Stag’s deep voice spoke in her ear; he was spooning her on the narrow cot. Nice. Comforting. Poor guy must be cramped as all hell. The weight at her waist—his arm—disappeared.
“Yes. Better.” She lifted herself onto her elbow and looked across at Rainbow—who was still unmoving, unconscious, barely breathing.
Stag’s thoughts ran parallel to Kateri’s. “She’s alive. That’s something.”
Lacey popped her head up; she rested on the hospital bed against Rainbow’s side, and she stared at Kateri, her big brown eyes sad and pleading.
“Ohh.” Kateri sighed softly. “You brought the dog.” The dog who believed Kateri could fix anything. The dog whom Kateri had rescued from certain death.
“Lacey loves Rainbow and I thought she might … help Rainbow, or at least wish to say good-bye.”
Kateri wished she had been so thoughtful. But she’d been too busy chasing John Terrance and examining dead bodies to think of the connection between Rainbow and Lacey. “The hospital let her in?”
“It was late, and Dr. Frownfelter put her on the bed himself … Did you know you drool and snore at the same time?”
Kateri used a well-aimed elbow to shove him off the cot and onto the floor.
He landed with a thump, chuckling low in his chest. “I’ll walk Lacey.” Going to the bed, he lifted the dog off, taking care not to joggle the mattress. “I brought you clean clothes. Go shower.”
“Right.” Kateri glanced at the clock. Six A.M. She checked her cell. No messages. No crises, no murders. So far, so good. She gathered the bag Stag had shoved into the corner. Going to the bed, she lightly touched Rainbow’s head, her chest, her hand.
No change. Barely a flicker of life. “Dear friend…” she said, and remembered Lacey’s sorrowful eyes. Guilt. So much guilt.
She hurried into the bathroom. Her ironed uniform was wrinkled; Stag wasn’t the best at packing. But he’d thought about how she would want clean clothes and that gave him all the points. After a day filled with blood and sweat, bullets and worry, and a night of black exhaustion, nothing was as glorious as a shower and clean clothes. She came out to a room empty except for her friend Rainbow, whose soul awaited transport across the cold depths and into that last, glorious warmth of light.
Perhaps letting her go was the kindest thing. Perhaps that was Rainbow’s destiny. If Rainbow survived, she faced a road ahead of pain, challenge and change.
But what was a world without Rainbow? She was the heart of Virtue Falls, the woman who knew everyone, the waitress who listened to dreams, hopes and troubles, the counselor who gave advice, both wanted and unwanted.