Blowout

going down big time.”
    “Good,” Martin said. “Good.” There was more relief in his voice than satisfaction. Finally, for him, it was over. Except for his dad.
    He and Savich watched the state troopers haul out Sheriff Harms’s unconscious body. When they were alone, Savich laid his hand on Martin’s shoulder. “Your father, Martin. I spoke to the Boston police yesterday. In addition to everything else, they also have the evidence of over twenty years of payments to the sheriff. You can bet that Sheriff Harms will roll hard on him.
    “The Boston police are waiting for me to call again before they pick him up.”
    “You knew my father had to be in on it, didn’t you, Dillon?”
    “Yes, it was the only thing that made sense. I have to call them, Martin.”
    “But you didn’t say anything about it to me.”
    “No.”
    “Because you didn’t think I could handle it.”
    “No, I didn’t tell you because I knew you’d have doubts. It had to come from Sheriff Harms.”
    Martin Thornton nodded as he said without hesitation, “He paid this man to murder my mother. Make the call, Agent Savich.” Martin heard Janet’s voice, and turned to see her running ahead of Sherlock into the sheriff’s office. He was smiling as he caught her up in his arms.

EPILOGUE
    G EORGETOWN W ASHINGTON , D.C.
END OF J ANUARY
    S AVICH SAID , “Who was that on the phone?”
    “Lily. She and Simon have decided to get married in March.”
    “Why March, for heaven’s sake?”
    Sherlock shook her head, smiling. “She said it just felt right and besides, she’s made him suffer enough. She laughed, said Simon’s agreed they’ll live here in Washington for six months and New York for six months. We’ll see how long that lasts. Oh yes, No Wrinkles Remus has been picked up by Newsday .”
    “Good. Someone there’s got a brain. It’s one of the best political cartoons I’ve ever seen. And what a relief. She’s finally picked the right man, thank the good Lord.”
    Sherlock handed him a sleeping Sean, who gave a little snort when he felt his father’s big hand stroke his back.
    “I heard from Janet and Martin Thornton today. They’re doing fine. Martin’s on some meds, as you know, but he said his shrink doesn’t think he’ll need them for much longer, given what’s happened. I think he’s smart and insightful. Best of all, he’s got Janet. She’s working on getting him to contact his stepmother and his two half-sisters. Maybe they can help each other. Hey, sweetheart, you ready for bed?”
    “Well,” Sherlock said, “Sean certainly is. I was thinking about a nice hot shower. You know, I haven’t scrubbed your back in a while. Not since Wednesday night when you came in all sweaty from the gym. What do you think?”
    Savich kissed her ear. He was whistling quietly as they walked upstairs. In the shower, Sherlock soaped up her hands and washed his back. He was leaning against the tiled wall, feeling almost relaxed enough to collapse and drown, when she said, “Are you satisfied we did the right thing about Günter?”
    Savich stilled a moment. “Yes. I’m very glad you suggested we discuss what happened before we talked to anyone else. We saved Margaret Califano and Callie endless pain, and protected Justice Califano from a scandal that would have destroyed his name and harmed the Supreme Court itself.”
    She nodded against his shoulder. “I still wonder, though, if Günter acted alone.”
    “Remember Günter said he’d tell us a bit of truth? And so, I think, he did. Let it go, sweetheart. I have.”
    He turned around to face her. Hot water cascaded down over them. “I decided to label that file Pandora’s box to remind me that Mr. Maitland is satisfied that Günter acted alone. So, yes, I’m going to keep that box tightly closed.”
    She let the water pulse against her back as she lathered her hands to scrub down his chest. She raised her face. “I sure don’t want the key to that box. Let’s forget there is one, Dillon, okay?”
    I T WAS LATE , deep in the night, when Savich shook his wife’s shoulder. “Wake up, Sherlock, wake up. You’re dreaming.”
    Sherlock jerked awake, blinked at his face above hers. “What? Dillon? What’s the matter?”
    “You were moving around, dreaming. A nightmare?”
    Sherlock shook her head back and forth on the pillow. “No, no nightmare. Actually, for the very first time, I dreamed about Samantha.”
    He pulled her tightly against him, and said against her