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Authors: Sean Lynch

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Kearns’ head rocked back in laughter. “You’ve got a point.”
“I wonder how Paige is doing.” she asked. “She’s been on the phone for over an hour.”
“Hopefully, it’s good news.”
As if reading their thoughts, the rear door opened and Paige emerged. She strode wordlessly
past Elsa and Kearns and slumped heavily in one of the plush patio chairs. Cody wandered
over and nuzzled her with his wet nose. She rubbed his neck. She also let out a long
breath and ran both hands through her hair. As she did this, the shaved spot and stitches
over her left ear became visible. She kneaded her temples and made no effort to speak.
“Well,” Elsa said gently, “are you going to leave us in suspense?”
Paige looked up at her aunt. “I don’t mean to be rude; I suddenly have a doozy of
a headache.”
Kearns silently left the patio and went inside. He returned a moment later with a
glass of water and the pitcher of margarita. He set down the pitcher and handed Paige
the water and two aspirin.
“The whole glass,” he ordered, dropping the aspirin into her open palm. She complied.
When she set her empty water glass on the table, he filled it with margarita.
“Thank you.” She took a sip. “This is a little stiff.” She winced at Kearns.
“So are you,” Elsa said. “Blame me; I’m the bartender. So, what’s the news with Gene?”
“Apparently, Dad’s doing a lot better,” she began. “He’s still in intensive care but
only because Sergeant Wendt can better protect him from there. I spoke with Dad’s
physician.”
“What’s his prognosis?”
“Good. There’s still some mild paralysis, but it’s improving dramatically. His memory
and mental function seem as good as ever. Basically, the medical people think he’ll
make a full recovery.”
“That’s great news,” Kearns said.
“It surely is,” Elsa agreed.
“The doctor said he still needs a lot of undisturbed rest. He told me to stay away.
He’s under the impression that my presence upsets Dad.” Her eyes began to well up.
“Your father only wants you safe,” Kearns said softly. “It’s not that he doesn’t want
you there.”
“I just want to be there with him,” Paige said, emotion heavy in her voice. “I know
we haven’t been close since Mom died, but now, with the possibility of losing him…
I…”
Paige’s voice cracked and two swollen tears slid down the sides of her face. Elsa
went to her, knelt, and put her arms around her niece.
“Don’t feel badly,” she soothed. “Whatever might have come between you and your father
doesn’t matter now. All that matters is that you have each other and you love each
other.”
“Oh, Aunt Elsa,” Paige sobbed, burying her face in her aunt’s arms. “I haven’t been
much of a daughter.”
Kearns sensed it was time to get another beer from the refrigerator inside the house,
even though he’d brought a spare with him.
“Enough of that talk,” he heard Elsa say as he walked away. “You have all the time
in the world to tell Gene how you feel. Everything is going to be fine.”
Kearns retrieved a cold Bass Ale from the refrigerator and drained most of it while
watching Elsa and Paige through the kitchen window. They remained in an embrace for
many minutes, and he waited as long as he could before loudly opening the rear door.
Any longer and the chicken roasting on the barbecue would burn. He went straight to
the grill, averting his eyes to the stone patio floor.
At his arrival, Elsa and Paige stood up. Both were wiping their eyes. Paige avoided
looking at Kearns.
“Soup’s on,” Kearns announced, louder and more cheerfully than necessary. Elsa and
Paige retrieved the salad and dinnerware from inside while he rescued the food from
the grill.
Kearns seated Elsa and Paige. He topped off Elsa’s wineglass and refilled Paige’s
margarita before serving the salad. Then he lit the two candles on the table, as the
sun had fully submerged below the brown hills, taking the daylight with it. He heaped
the plates with baked potatoes covered in shredded cheese, roasted sweet corn, and
finally, golden chicken breasts dripping in sauce.
Once both women were served, he took his seat. Paige was looking at her plate and
didn’t see Elsa wink at Kearns and mouth a silent “Thank you”. When Paige finally
looked up, a self-conscious smile adorning her features, Elsa raised her glass.
“Here’s to the chef,” Elsa said. “And an evening to remember.”
“An evening to remember,” Paige echoed. The faint “tink of three glasses reverberated
into the night.
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
CHAPTER 35
 
 
Elsa Callen entered the kitchen from the rear patio and approached Kearns. He had
just finished the dishes from dinner and was sitting down at the kitchen table. Cody
was at his heels and a fresh beer was in his hand.
He’d left the women alone on the patio after dinner. More than an hour passed as Elsa
and Paige chatted away in the enveloping darkness. He and Cody did the post-dining
chores; Kearns mostly doing the dishes, and Cody mostly eating doggie snacks and rubbing
against his leg.
“Want to see something?” Elsa asked him.
His curiosity aroused, Kearns followed Elsa outside to the patio.
“Angelic, wouldn’t you say?” she said in a hushed tone, nodding her chin at Paige.
Paige was slumped in her chair, her knees tucked under her dress. Her cheek rested
on top of her knees and her eyes were closed. The gradual rise and fall of her chest
was her only movement.
“She’s dead asleep,” Elsa said. “She looks like she did as a child.”
“It’s probably the margaritas,” Kearns said.
He was forced to agree with Elsa’s assessment of her appearance. With her long blond
hair cascading over her tan legs, her pretty, slack face, and her mouth parted slightly
in sleep, Paige did indeed appear both childlike and angelic.
“It’s not the liquor,” Elsa corrected, “though it may have helped. Haven’t you noticed
a change in her since you arrived?”
“Actually, I have,” Kearns admitted. “She seems to be calmer, more relaxed. I hardly
believe it’s the same Paige Callen.”
“She lives too stressful a life,” Elsa said. “Lord knows she had a stressful childhood.
But whenever she came here to the ranch, she was always able to shed her worries and
just be herself. I see it happening again now.”
“Seeing is believing,” Kearns said. “And I’ve certainly seen a change in Paige. She
hasn’t called me a foul name all day.”
“And you thought I was crazy when I told you how sweet she is.”
He laughed. “I’ll confess to that, but you have to give me some credit; you don’t
get to see how she acts away from here. She’s a real ballbuster.”
“Of course she is,” Elsa said. “She’s a Callen. I already told you; it’s her legacy.”
Neither spoke for several minutes. Kearns looked up at the countless stars brightly
winking overhead.
“I couldn’t stand to live in a metropolitan area; can’t see the stars for the haze.
I’d go insane,” Elsa finally said.
“I grew up in the country,” he said. “I know what you mean.” Silence again prevailed
for several minutes.
Elsa quietly cleared her throat, breaking the silence. “I didn’t ask you out here
to gaze at the stars, Hercules. We need to get Paige upstairs.”
“Meaning I do the heavy work?”
“Absolutely; somebody has to be the brains of the outfit.”
Kearns laughed again, leaned down, scooped Paige into his arms, and stood up. She
murmured but did not awaken. Elsa led him into the house.
“She too heavy for you?” Elsa whispered with a hint of challenge.
“Are you kidding?” he whispered back. “I was just about to climb the Empire State
Building and start swatting airplanes out of the sky.”
“Don’t let me stop you,” Elsa chuckled.
Once they mounted the stairs, Elsa opened a door and they entered a beautifully decorated
bedroom. Kearns approached the bed and set Paige gently down as Elsa peeled back the
covers.
“Thank you, Kevin. I’m sure Paige will thank you herself in the morning.”
“I wouldn’t bother telling her about this,” he disagreed. “She’s not that relaxed.”
Kearns took a moment to glance at Paige’s peaceful features before leaving Elsa to
undress her and finish tucking her into bed. As he descended the stairs, he found
Cody at the bottom, staring up at him wistfully.
“All right,” he said to the Labrador. “Enough with the concentration-camp eyes. I’ll
get you a treat.”
Cody wagged his tail and led the way into the kitchen and to the cabinet where he’d
seen Kearns earlier deposit the treats.
Kearns left an ecstatic Cody munching on a biscuit and strolled through the house.
It was the first time he’d been beyond the kitchen since his arrival.
The house was elegantly but not ostentatiously furnished. He went from room to room
taking in the décor. In one room were an elaborate series of bookshelves, laden with
books, and a bulky desk. On the desktop were several framed photographs. He recognized
Elsa. As he surmised, she was stunning in her youth. With her in some of the photos
was a tall, outdoorsy-looking man and a young boy whose features were marked with
traits of both parents. Elsa’s husband and son Mark, no doubt. There were also a few
pictures of Paige in various stages of childhood. He was examining an array of shotguns
in a handcrafted gun cabinet when he sensed movement behind him.
“Quite an arsenal, wouldn’t you say?” Elsa asked.
“I was just admiring your home,” he said. “I hope you don’t mind.”
“Not at all,” Elsa assured him.
He continued to examine the weapons. “Do you know how to shoot?”
“My husband taught me a long time ago, but it’s been many years since I have. Why?”
Kearns scratched his jaw. “It’s good to have a contingency plan, that’s all. I only
brought a handgun. Good for close-range work but leaves a lot to be desired in open
country.”
“I haven’t forgotten why you’re here, Kevin. You’re welcome to use any of these guns
if you think they’ll help keep Paige safe.”
“I appreciate it.”
“Do you think Paige’s stalker could find her all the way out here?”
“Who knows?” He shrugged. “Stranger things have happened. In any case, it’s better
to be prepared.”
“Given what Paige and her father have endured these past few days, I would say that’s
a prudent philosophy. Do what you think is best.”
“Thank you.”
“Well,” she said, yawning, “I’m going to bed myself. Thanks for a wonderful dinner.
And for carrying Paige upstairs. Without you here, I’d have had to wake her up, and
I get the impression Paige hasn’t been getting much sleep lately.”
“It was my pleasure.”
Elsa went for the stairs. Before she reached them, she turned and faced Kearns again.
“Kevin,” she said tentatively, “do you think the police are going to catch this guy?”
He took a while to answer. He contemplated placating her, but one look at Elsa’s strong,
honest features put that thought to rest.
“No,” he answered her at last. “He’s too good.”
“What do we do? Nothing?”
“I didn’t say that.”
Elsa squinted at him, tilting her head. “Gene was right about you,” she finally said.
“He may be a lot of things, but I will say this: my brother is an excellent judge
of character. I’m glad you’re here.”
“So am I. Goodnight, Elsa.”
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
   
CHAPTER 36
 
 
Bob Farrell lay in the tub, barely able to move. He had an ice-filled towel against
the side of his head and a lit cigarette in his mouth. He also had a fifth of Kentucky
bourbon at hand without the cumbersome middleman of a glass.
It had been a little over an hour since he’d staggered up the stairs to his apartment,
leaning heavily on the railing at each step. Once inside, he undressed, an operation
that normally took a moment but tonight took many minutes. Each time he moved his
arms, the muscles in his abdomen cried out in agony, and the act of getting his shirt
off required a bourbon break. After disrobing, he checked himself in the bathroom
mirror. In addition to the jagged hatchet scar running down his shoulder and the circular
sphincter gunshot scar dotting his chest, both remnants of his final encounter with
Vernon Slocum, he noticed the beginnings of bruises on his sides and back. He turned
on the bathtub spigot and headed to the toilet. When he relieved himself, he was not
surprised to find his urine pink.
He gingerly checked himself and was comforted to discover no apparent broken bones.
He was lucky and knew it; if the weighted leather sap had struck him in the front
of his head instead of the side, he’d have orbital fractures around his eye. That
none of his ribs were cracked was another gift he thanked his lucky stars for.
After dragging the telephone by its extended cord into the bathroom, Farrell slid
into the tub of steaming water and lit a smoke. It was another ten minutes before
he mustered the strength to phone Jennifer at her hotel and tell her he would be unable
to meet her and her fiancé for dinner. He’d planned to call Kearns at the Napa ranch
where he was guarding Paige Callen, but the number was on a folded piece of paper
in his wallet, and he didn’t have the energy to climb out of the bath and retrieve
it from his trousers.

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