Spencerville

at her until finally she turned toward him.
    The sofa was between him and her, but he put out his arm, reaching past Baxter, and motioned for her to give him the poker. He noticed now that she had leg irons around her ankles. He made another motion for her to hand him the poker, but she shook her head.
    Cliff Baxter groaned again, and Keith looked at him. Blood was running down the sides of his neck now, and Keith said to him, but for Annie’s benefit, “You brought this on yourself. You know that.”
    Baxter raised his head, and, still conscious, looked at Keith and said, “Fuck you…” Then he tried to stand and turn around, his head and eyes moving around the room. “Annie, Annie, I—”
    She swung the poker in a wide overhead arch and brought it down hard against the top of her husband’s head, sending him sprawling back over the couch.
    Keith could actually hear the skull crack and saw Baxter’s eyes bulge out of his sockets and blood pour from his nose. Keith was not at all surprised by that second, fatal blow—he was certain she knew far better than anyone else what she was doing and why.
    Annie dropped the poker to the floor and looked at Keith.
    He said, “All right… it’s all right…” He continued to speak softly to her as he moved around the sofa. She took a tentative step toward him, then a longer step, but the chain pulled taut and she stumbled. He caught her arms and moved her gently back into a chair, making her sit down. He took off his shirt, put it around her shoulders, and put his hand on her cheek. “It’s okay.”
    Keith stepped away from her and picked up the poker. He took a long stride toward the sofa and brought the poker down with all his strength on the top of Baxter’s already smashed skull. He noted, irrelevantly, that Baxter was in his underwear, that his skin was pale, and that his sphincter had let loose.
    Keith threw the poker on the floor and turned to Annie. He said quietly, “I killed him.”
    She didn’t reply.
    He said again, “Annie, I killed him. He’s dead. It’s over.”
    She looked at Keith.
    He knelt in front of her and took her hands, which were cold and clammy. He said, “It’s okay now. You’re going to be all right. We’re going back to Spencerville now.”
    She nodded, and tears ran down her cheeks. She said, “Thank you.”
    This wasn’t the time, Keith thought, to thank her for sawing his life, because Keith wanted to establish a different set of events in her mind. He rubbed her hands and asked her, “Are you hurt?”
    “No.” She touched his face where the blood was still wet from the knife cut. “
You’re
hurt.”
    “I’m fine.” He saw a bruise on her face and bruises on her legs. Her eyes looked all right, though her skin was pale and cold. As he held her hands, he felt that her pulse was fast but regular. “You’re okay. You’re tough.”
    She ignored this and said to him, “He has the keys around his neck. I want these off.” She jiggled the manacles around her ankles. “I want them off.”
    He smiled at her. “Okay.”
    He stood, went over to Baxter’s body, and ripped the key chain off Baxter’s bloody neck. He knelt in front of Annie again and, as he tried a few keys, he noticed the padlock hanging from the chain and the shackle running through the big eyebolt. He asked, “How did you manage that?”
    “I unscrewed it with the poker.”
    He nodded. Keith unlocked the leg manacles and rubbed her ankles. “Okay?”
    “Yes.”
    “Let’s get you dressed and out of here.”
    She didn’t seem to want to move, but then she looked at Cliff Baxter slumped dead over the back of the sofa and said, “Yes, I want to get out of here. Help me up.”
    He stood and helped her stand, turning her away from the dead body. He walked with his arm around her as she made her way toward the hallway, his shirt draped over her shoulders.
    She stopped and moved away from him. “I can do this. Wait here. I’ll be dressed in a few minutes.”
    “Okay.”
    She hesitated a moment, then looked at him and asked, “There was someone else outside, wasn’t there?”
    “Yes. Billy Marlon.”
    “Is he dead?”
    “Yes.”
    “I’m sorry.”
    “Not your fault.”
    She looked at Cliff Baxter, then at Keith and said, “
I
killed him.”
    He didn’t reply.
    She put her hand on his face and looked into his eyes a long time, then said, “I knew you’d come.”
    “I told you I would.”
    “Well… I hope you think it was worth