Sarah Armstrong: Singularity Part 26

"Sarah. Behind you," Mom screamed I turned toward a figure emerging from the smoke, but, my eyes burning from the smoke, I couldnt see a face. Then, something else. Steel? A knife?

Instinct lined up my shot, and I fired before I realized Id pulled the trigger, silently praying that Id shot Gabriel and not David or one of the SWAT officers. Through the smoke, the figure stumbled forward, and I saw his thin face, his long blond hair. He fell backward against the telescope.

"Not the way you pictured it?" I shouted.

Scowling at me with contempt, Gabriel pushed off the ladder, back onto his feet, still holding his knife.

"Mom," Maggie screamed, and I thought about my daughter behind me, watching, and I hesitated.

"You wont kill me in front of your little girl," Gabriel taunted, holding the hunting knife with its long thin blade and rus.h.i.+ng toward me.

"Dont count on it," I said, my finger on the trigger. I lined up my shot, his face in my sites, just as a blast rang out from the clearing haze. Someone else had fired.

With a look of surprise, Gabriel turned on his heel, dropped his knife, and fell.

Detective Nelson ran toward me and saw Gabriels body writhing on the floor. Remarkably, the kid wasnt dead, and he hadnt given up. He grabbed for his knife, inches from his fingertips. Without hesitation, Nelson fired into the monsters skull.

Nelson gazed down at the kid, still pointing his gun at the now-motionless body. I tried to say "Thank you." But when I opened my lips, nothing came out.

"Get them out of here. Now!" David ordered, as he ran up, positioning his body next to Nelsons, between the equipment locker holding Mom and the kids and the dead or dying man on the floor. A SWAT officer rushed forward and pushed me out of the way, while another bent down to check Gabriel for a pulse.

Nelson flung open the locker door and pulled Mom, Maggie, and Strings out, then shoved all four of us through the observatory toward the door and out onto the landing at the top of the stairs, urging us down the stairs and into the hallway, where scores of Jims waiting officers rushed past into the observatory.

"Hes dead," someone shouted from inside the observatory. "We got him."

When Maggie heard the officers words, she threw her arms around me, sobbing. Crying, Mom hugged us both, and then turned to comfort Strings, but hed have none of it.

"Im okay, Mrs. Potts," he said, wide-eyed. "Wow, now that was way cool."

Still standing at the top of the steps, Nelson held a handkerchief to his eyes, rubbing off the soot and smoke, and I shouted "Thank you." He nodded and gave a small wave in return.

"I was so scared," Maggie sobbed. "I thought if I started a fire, the alarm would go off and people would come. I figured that Gabriel guy would run away before you got there. He was going to hurt you and I think all of us. He was telling you hed let us go, but I didnt think he would. And I didnt want you..."

"I know, honey, I know. Its okay now," I said, holding her tight and combing my fingers through her hair. I kissed her softly on the top of her head. "You were so brave. You did a wonderful thing, helping us like that. And Gabriel is gone. h.e.l.l never hurt anyone ever again."

Epilogue.

Im looking for Doyle Tyler. Where have they got him?" I asked.

It was the following morning and I was in the lobby of the Harris County Medical Examiners Building, also known as the county morgue.

"Room five," the receptionist said, checking her computer. "Looks like theyve already started cutting."

On a stainless-steel coroners table, Tyler looked small and common. His hands were delicate and fine; his face, with his eyes closed, rather ordinary. The only mark on him, with the exception of the three gunshot wounds, was an amateurish tattoo over his heart, a knife dripping blood, superimposed over a cross. As I stared down at his cold naked body, I willed myself not to remember the young boy in the photograph. Maybe someday Id be able to sort through the past few weeks with a cooler head, even gain some semblance of professional objectivity, instead of rage.

One of the a.s.sistant coroners, Dr. Joseph Fernandez, a round, thick-necked man, who on his days off wore a black leather jacket and rode with a motorcycle club, had already sliced through Tylers chest and abdomen in a "Y," from the shoulders to pubic bone, and opened him up. "The subject is Doyle Tyler of Bardwell, Texas, twenty-one years old. Caucasian. Mr. Tyler has a thin build, five-foot-eleven inches tall and weighing one hundred thirty-five pounds," he said into a tape recorder.

I walked out the door. Id accomplished what Id come for. If she ever asked, I wanted to be able to tell Maggie that I had seen Gabriel dead. I never wanted her to worry about him again. Never, not for a moment, did I want her to imagine that there was any chance hed be back.

Later that afternoon I sat in my office behind my desk, clearing up paperwork. I had a few things to tie up before my leave began, two months off to contemplate my future. It was the captains idea, and this time I hadnt argued. Right now, I wasnt capable of making any decisions, especially whether I would return to the rangers or look for a new career.

From the moment Id walked in the office that morning, Id noticed eyes turning toward me. Sheilas, the captains, my fellow rangers. Every time they glanced in my direction, they quickly turned away. I knew what they were thinking, not so much whether Id be back but whether Maggie and I would be all right. No one came right out and asked. They danced around it, like when the captain ventured, "Guess you might need some time off to get things straightened out at home." I just nodded. I wasnt up to talking yet. It was all too fresh. Besides, although hed apologized for the suspension, it left a bad taste in my mouth.

Maybe that would go away. Maybe it wouldnt.

If anyone had asked outright, I would have admitted I didnt know how Maggie and I were really doing.

Maggies outward strength surprised me. That morning shed dressed for school as if nothing out of the ordinary had happened. Certain she needed time to come to terms with all that wed been through, knowing I did, I convinced her to stay home with Mom for a day. Tonight, after dinner, wed discuss the future. Mrs. Hansen had recommended a counselor, and Id already called for appointments for both of us. I couldnt sidestep our pain any longer. No matter how long it took, I was determined that wed heal from the horror of the past year.

On the other hand, Mom appeared to be recovering quickly.

In typical fas.h.i.+on, shed worked out her anxieties in the kitchen. We werent home fifteen minutes when she had the counters loaded with ingredients. She whipped up fresh lemon squares, to the delight of a platoon of officers whod accompanied us to take our statements. And Strings? He was back in school, I had no doubt, boasting to every kid in the cla.s.s about the experience. Before wed even left the scene, I heard him ask David if hed come to school to answer questions about how real-live FBI agents work. David agreed, contingent on Mrs. Hansens okay.

"Someone here to see you."

I looked up and the captain stood at my office door.

"Im not much up for company," I said.

"Its Priscilla Lucas."

I nodded, he left, and moments later she entered the room, accompanied by her father.

"I just wanted to thank you," she said, holding out her hand.

I shook it and said, "You could have avoided a lot of pain and saved a lot of people mountains of work if youd just been truthful with the officers working this case."

"I couldnt..."

"Why did you give Annmarie Knowles the hundred grand?" I asked. She looked stunned, and I asked again. "Priscilla, you owe me an explanation."

"You gave the money to that woman, Edwards girlfriend?" said her father. Turning to me, he asked, "Are you sure?"

"Yes, I had the bank records for everyone involved in this case subpoenaed," I explained. "The same day your daughter withdrew the money from the bank, Ms. Knowles made a deposit, for the identical sum, in cash."

Turning back to Priscilla, I said, "Youre not going to tell me thats some kind of bizarre coincidence, are you?"

"If I tell you why I paid her," she said, her voice tentative, "I need your a.s.surance that the information will never be made public. Edwards family has vowed to fight for custody of the children, and they wouldnt hesitate to use it against me."

"This is no longer a murder investigation," I explained. "Youve been cleared of any involvement, so theres no need for what you tell me to ever leave this room. But I want to know. I deserve an answer."

"Sarah, I..." she said, hesitating. "Frankly, this is hard to talk about."

"Do it anyway," I said.

She swallowed hard and looked at her father. "I wanted out of the marriage, and I knew Edward would never agree to a divorce, not unless he was, how can I say this, distracted."

"And you paid Annmarie to be that distraction?"

"Yes," she said, glancing at her father out of the corner of her eye. "Annmarie agreed to romance Edward. Part of our agreement was that she would convince him to agree to the divorce and to not fight for the children."

Rather than shocked, Barker looked intrigued.

"Pris, I didnt think you had it in you," the old man said, with a grin I can only describe as parental pride. "That man had been riding roughshod over you for so many years..."

"It wasnt something I wanted to do, but I saw no other way," she stammered.

"Annmarie took the money and then...?" I prodded.

"She took the money and then, the following day, refused to help me. Thats why we argued at her condo the night before their murders," Priscilla said. "Edward had suddenly proposed. Shed already said yes. He told her the children were part of the deal. Annmarie said shed fallen in love with Edward, and, looking back now, she may have been telling the truth. When he was courting, my late husband could be quite charming. At the time, I didnt believe her. I accused her of double-crossing me to get Edwards money and the social position such a marriage would guarantee her. Whatever her motivation, Annmarie feared Edward would drop her if she challenged his plans. She may have been right. It was risky crossing Edward. I myself rarely had the courage to do it."

"So thats it?" I said. "The whole story?"

"Thats it," Priscilla said, looking relieved to have finally explained her role. "And, again, I want to thank you. I cant help thinking about how this might have turned out."

"Next time," I said, "forget all the intrigue and just hire a good divorce attorney."

Priscilla laughed. "Believe me, there will be no next time. I intend to live a quiet, even boring life from this day forward."

"You know, that doesnt sound bad," I said.

"So, Sarah, whats the plan?" David asked when he walked me to my car late that afternoon. "You coming back or is Texas losing a great ranger?"

"Havent a clue," I said. "Right now Im not thinking past tomorrow afternoon."

"What happens tomorrow afternoon?"

"Maggie and I have a date at the Gallera ice rink," I said.

"Ah, she mentioned that youd promised," he said. "May I join you?"

I thought for a moment. It was tempting. I would have liked to spend time with him, away from the office, if for nothing else just to talk. But, instead, I shook my head. "David, Im sorry," I said. "This is a mother-and-daughter event."

He smiled, and then slipped his hand onto my shoulder. "Okay. I understand," he said, but his eyes looked troubled. "Now, what about us?"

"Youre really interested?" I asked, making no move to pull away.

"Very interested," he said, without hesitation. "Probably, more than you realize."

"Well, I dont know what about us. Im sorry. I cant think about us now. Not yet. I dont even know about myself yet. I have some work to do to figure out where Im going, what I do next," I said, being as honest as I could at that moment, with so much of the future yet to be decided. "And then theres Maggie. Without Bill, after all thats happened, for a while shes going to need me more than ever."

"So you want time to sort through a few things? I can live with that," he said, running his hand over my arm. "How much time?"

"I dont know," I admitted. "I cant make any guarantees."

David frowned, but nodded. "Okay. One day at a time."

With that, I turned to leave, but then thought better of it. "Just one more thing?"

"Sure," David said. "Anything."

There was something I wanted to do. I wrapped one arm around his shoulder, the other firmly around his neck, and pulled him toward me. It was without a doubt the longest, wettest kiss Id ever planted on a man in my life. I breathed in and inhaled him, holding him close and wis.h.i.+ng for so much more. When it was over, I took a step back and smiled at him, shooting for casual, hoping he couldnt feel my heart race.

"Thats not fair," he scolded, catching his breath. "You cant do that and leave."

"Just a little something to remember me by for the time being," I said, smiling and pulling open the Tahoes door.

David laughed. "You are cruel, Sarah."

"Maybe," I said. "I just needed one for the road."

Davids smile disappeared and his eyes narrowed. "I dont like the sound of that," he said.

"If we hook up again, maybe we could try a more leisurely pace?" I said, with a smile. "Maybe dinner and a movie?"

"Ah, a real date," he agreed, his voice calmer but still hesitant. "Id like that."

With that, I slid inside the Tahoe and pulled the door shut. Moments later Id eased into reverse and backed out of my parking slot.

Earlier, Mom had called to say that she had a pork loin and oven-browned potatoes roasting and that at my daughters request wed dine al fresco, at a picnic table Maggie set up beneath the corral elm tree. I didnt have to ask why. Maggie wanted Bill to see us, to know that we were okay. Not knowing what the rules are in heaven, I couldnt help praying that G.o.d would give him permission to visit us under the Christmas light stars.

At the street, I glanced in my rearview mirror. David hadnt moved. Arms folded, he watched as I merged into traffic and drove away.

Acknowledgments.

A big thank you to all of the following:.

To my agents, Jane Dystel and Miriam G.o.derich, of Dystel & G.o.derich, for employing their many talents on my behalf.

To my St. Martins editors: Jason Pinter, who gave Sarah, Maggie, Strings, and Nora a wonderful home, and Daniela Rapp, who guided Singularity to completion.

To Philip Spitzer, who encouraged me to write fiction.

Im grateful to my ma.n.u.script readers: Mary Kay Zanoni, Kate Shadid, Shana Aborn, Terry Bachman, Ann Tavernini, Elaine Larson, Jan Shadid, Claire Ca.s.sidy, Patti Dath, and Sue Vandegrift. Special thanks to Sandy Sheehy and Ken Hammond for their suggestions and perceptive comments.

For sharing his expertise: Harris County a.s.sistant District Attorney Edward Porter.