The Cove

fountain pen before she wrote?"

    "Knowing our people, they'll probably check for that. Old Thelma was very specific about how everything came about. It's probably the best proof and history anyone could have of the entire episode. I mean, she wrote everything, beginning back in the 1940s when she and her husband came to The Cove.

    "It's all the attorney general's problem now. I'll wager they're hating every minute of it. You can't begin to imagine what the media are doing with all this. Well, maybe you can. It's nuts. At least Sheriff Mountebank came out of the coma this morning, that's one good thing. His three deputies are pulling through as well.

    They were dragged and tied up in that shed where you guys were."

    "Amory St. John and my aunt Amabel," Sally said. "Mr. Brammer, what will happen to them when you nab them?"

    "He'll be in jail three lifetimes. As for your aunt, Sally, I don't know if they'll toss her in with the other seniors or if they'll add kidnapping charges and conspiracy charges. We'll just have to see."

    "Eureka again!"

    Everyone turned to Dillon. He looked up, grinning a bit sheepishly. "Well, I just wanted all of you to know that Sally's divorce will be final in six months. Let's make it the middle of October. I've booked Elm Street Presbyterian in D.C. for the fourteenth. Everything's set."

    "Will you marry me, Corey?" Thomas Shredder said.

    She gave him a sharp look. "You have to prove to me that you're no longer a sexist. That could take a good year, even if you try really hard. Don't forget, a condition is that I become the SAC of the Portland office."

    "You could always shoot him in the other arm if he backslides," Brammer said. "As to special agent in charge, why, Ms. Harper, I'll do a great deal of thinking about that."

    Sally just smiled at them all-all of them lifelong friends now-and walked back to James's room.

    He would live. As to all the rest of it, well, she just wasn't going to think about it until she had to.

    Life was all in your perspective, she'd decided during that helicopter ride to Portland, James white as death lying on that stretcher beside her, tubes sticking out of him. She was going to keep her perspective on James's face. A nice face, a sexy face. She couldn't wait for him to get well so they could go to the Bonhomie Club and he could play his saxophone.

    * * *

    The next morning, Quinlan opened the Oregonian that a nurse had brought him. The headline was:

    AMORY ST. JOHN KILLED WHILE FLEEING FBI

    Like he didn't deserve it, he thought. "Yeah, poor bugger," he said aloud, and read on. Evidently Amory St. John had tried to run, but he hadn't made it. He'd left Amabel in a flash, jumped onto a baggage truck, knocked out the driver, and driven off, the FBI right behind him. He hadn't gotten far. He'd even been stupid enough to fire on the agents, refusing orders to stop and throw down his weapon.

    He was dead. The bastard was finally dead. Sally wouldn't have to go through a trial. She wouldn't ever have to face him again.

    What about Amabel?

    Apparently the Oregonian hadn't known which headline to splash-The Cove murders or Amory St. John. Since The Cove had gotten the big print the day before, he supposed they decided it was Amory's turn.

    Amabel Perdy, he read, had pleaded innocent of all charges, both with regard to Amory St. John and with regard to The Cove, saying she had no idea what was going on in either case. She was an artist, she maintained. She helped sell the World's Greatest Ice Cream. That was all she did.

    Wait until the media found out about Thelma's diary, he thought. That would nail her hide but good. All of the seniors' hides. He was tired, his chest hurt real bad, and so he pumped a small dose of morphine into his arm.

    Soon, he knew, he would be sleeping like a baby, his mind free of all this crap. He just wished he could see Sally before he went under again.

    When she appeared at his bedside, smiling down at him, he knew he must be dreaming.

    "You look like an angel."

    He heard a laugh and felt her mouth on his, all warm and soft.

    "Nice," he said. "More."

    "Go to sleep, buster," she said. "I'll be here when you wake up."

    "Every morning?" "Yes. Always."

Epilogue

    SALLY ST. JOHN Brainerd and James Railey Quinlan were married on the date Dillon Savich had set for them- October 14. Dillon Savich was Quinlan's best man and Sally's mother was her matron of honor. She attended her daughter's wedding with Senator Matt