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“You didn’t kill anybody to get in here, did you?” she said as she sat up.
“Here? No.” He walked over to her and looked up. “About the stripper. That was not sex.”
“I know. You wouldn’t do that to me.” He looked surprised, and she took a deep breath. “Is she dead?”
“Yeah,” he said, clearly regrouping. “She was Casey Dean’s girl. She tried to kill us on the boat. She tried to kill me tonight.”
“Then you had to do it.” Agnes began to climb down from the bunk, and he put his hand on her waist to help her down, sliding his arm around her as her feet hit the floor, and she leaned against him and let him take her weight because he wouldn’t let her down.
“I heard about Taylor,” he said.
She clung to him. “It was bad. He was still alive when I found him, it was a terrible way to die.” He nodded.
“You know that cool, unemotional killer thing I was going to master? It ain’t happening. I’m just not the cool type.” He nodded.
“But I’m not Crazy Rage Person anymore, either. I think I finally got what Dr. Garvin was trying to tell me.” He nodded.
She tilted her head so she could see his face. “You okay there, silent guy?”
“You really do believe me?” He held on to her tighter. “I really wasn’t having sex with her, I swear, but you really do believe me?”
She nodded. “Yeah. You’re the guy I believe in.”
He bent and kissed her, and she held on to him, so grateful he was there, she could have cried. The blonde got up and began to sidle toward the door, and he reached out and grabbed the back of her shirt and put her back on the bunk, but he never let go of Agnes.
“Let’s go home,” he whispered, and she nodded, the words hitting her hard.
“Yes, please,” she said, and they went out the door, his arm still around her.
Shane turned back to the blonde. “Sorry,” he said, and closed and locked the cell door behind them.
“Damn,” the blonde said and lay back down. “I didn’t kill anyone. How come you guys get to leave?”
“Clean living,” Agnes said, and headed back to Two Rivers with the guy she trusted, thinking fast.
Two Rivers looked calm as they walked up to it, Shane thought. No police cars, no parties going on, just the glow of lights from the windows and the occasional raucous honk from the river. Peaceful enough that you might forget that two people had just died there in the past six hours.
“I’ll get the package,” Carpenter said as Agnes walked up the back porch steps, and then Agnes said, “Shane?” her voice too high as she looked through the back door.
Shane took the steps two at a time to look over her shoulder.
Joey and Doyle were standing on opposite sides of the table with the Venus between them: Joey had his revolver out pointed at the old handyman, Doyle had a gun in his hand pointed back at Joey, and the Venus looked off into the distance, disavowing all knowledge of their presence.
Shane pushed past Agnes. “What’s going on?”
“Ask him,” Joey said, nodding at Doyle.
Shane felt Agnes behind him, and now she moved around him, looking at the two old men. “What are you doing?”
Joey gave his sharklike smile, but the gun didn’t waver. “Agnes Crandall, meet Frankie Fortunato.”
“Great,” Shane said. “Just great.”
SATURDAY
Cranky Agnes column #116
“Sedate Your Family with Love and Gravy”
