KnockOut

Autumn, fiddling with one of her IV lines. He said, his eyes never leaving Autumn’s face, “Chief Parkes found the fresh grave, fifty feet behind the barn. I’m glad they did. At least the two people they found can go home now.”
    Savich’s cell phone played Eric Hummer’s “Milwaukee Blues.” What now, Sherlock wondered, and wished she could rip the phone out of Dillon’s hand and throw it out the window. But of course she couldn’t. Damned duty, she thought.
    Savich flipped his cell closed after a couple of minutes. He motioned the three of them out of the ICU. “Ethan, Joanna, you know Sherlock and I flew here directly from North Carolina. We have to go back to Washington, D.C. Mr. Maitland says the media’s going nuts, he admits he’s got a truckload of questions for us himself, and Director Mueller, even though he understands the situation with Autumn, has asked us to come back until everything can be sorted out. I don’t want to leave—”
    Ethan pulled Joanna to his side and squeezed. “We’ll be here Thank you for everything you’ve done.”
    Sherlock touched her fingers to his shoulder, then to Joanna’s. Silent, praying, Savich thought. He looked down at her face, at the pain in her eyes. He said, “Listen, all of you. Elaine told us she’ll make it. She promised us a miracle.”

Epilogue
    Five days later
    Savich stood in the doorway of Autumn’s private room on the second floor. He and Sherlock had just arrived at Palmerton after five long days of worry. The sun poured through the bank of windows, setting the pale yellow walls of her room aglow. She was still hooked up to IVs, but there were no longer oxygen clips in her nose, and he saw a bit of color on her cheeks. She was so small in that narrow hospital bed, so very thin. But she’d lived; she would make it. Soon she would be whole again.
    She was asleep, her breathing even and soft. He watched Joanna lean down and kiss her cheek, then Ethan kiss her forehead. They walked hand in hand out of the room, both looking pale and drawn, their eyes still shadowed from days of worry and lack of sleep, but both of them were smiling.
    Ethan shook Savich’s hand, hugged Sherlock. “Autumn should sleep for a while now. Both Joanna and I are running on low. How about some coffee—and tea for you, Savich—in the hospital cafeteria? It’s not bad at all, kept us alive these past days. I like the cane. Is that an eagle’s head on it?”
    The walls of the Palmerton hospital cafeteria were sunshine yellow, the chairs and tables alternately bright green and blue. You couldn’t help but feel your spirits lift a little when you walked in.
    Joanna said, “We’re very glad you guys are back. Even though we’ve spoken every day, it’s wonderful to see you, to have you here.” She drew in a deep breath. “It’s been—difficult.” Then she smiled up at Ethan, squeezed his hand.
    Ethan said, “She’s been improving steadily. Every single day, she’s better and better. Only a couple of minor setbacks, a fever that scared the spit out of us, but it passed quickly. Dr. Maddox came out of her room this morning and he was beaming and did a little skip.” Without thought, Ethan leaned over and touched his forehead to Joanna’s. “We are very, very lucky,” he said, and kissed her cheek.
    Joanna gave them a brilliant smile. “Five very long days, but they’re in the past now. You should hear Nurse Elaine talk about her miracle.”
    Ethan said, “We’ve seen some of the hoopla on TV about Victor Nesser. What’s happening?”
    Sherlock said, “The media frenzy over Victor and Lissy is still playing itself out, mostly in the tabloids now, and a couple of the talking head cable networks. More speculation than fact now, shrinks and legal analysts using it to get airtime. There’s been nothing new in the past day and a half to rev them up again, thank God.”
    Joanna said, “We saw an interview with that bank security guard, Buzz Riley, on one of the major stations. He was something, a very funny man.”
    Savich nodded. “Buzz called us after the show aired. He was pumped up, said he’d always wanted to be on TV, wondered if he’d get some calls from Hollywood.”
    Joanna laughed. It sounded a bit rusty, but it was still a laugh, no shadows beneath it. “Do you know I wouldn’t be at all surprised if he made it into the next Die Hard movie, maybe as Willis’s newest sidekick?”
    Ethan said, “He sure sang your praises, Savich,