“I should have kept kicking guys in the crotch. Then none of this would have happened. I’m so glad you’re here.”

“I’m here, Lily, so is Sherlock. We left Sean with Mom, who was grinning and singing the ‘Hallelujah Chorus’ as we drove out of the driveway. We told her you’d been in an accident and that you were okay, that we just wanted to see you. You can call and reassure her later. As for the rest of the family, let Mom do the telling.”

“I don’t want her to worry. It’s true, Dillon, I’ll be okay. I miss Sean. It’s been so long. I really like all the photos you e-mail me.”

“Yes, but it’s not the same as being in the room with him, having him gum your fingers, rub his crackers into your sweater, and drool on your neck.”

Sherlock said, “You touch any surface in the house and come away with graham cracker crumbs.”

Lily smiled, and it was real because she could see that precious little boy dropping wet graham cracker crumbs everywhere, and it pleased her to her very soul. “Mom must be so happy to have her hands on him.”

Savich said, “Yes. She always spoils him so rotten that when he comes home, he’s a real pain for a good two days.”

“He’s the cutest little button, Dillon. I miss him.”

A tear leaked out of her eye.

Savich wiped the tear away. “I know, so do Sherlock and I and we’ve only been apart from him for less than a day. How do you feel, Lily?”

“It’s dark again.”

“Yes. Nearly seven o’clock Thursday evening. Now, sweetheart, talk to me. How do you feel?”

“Like they’ve already lightened the morphine.”

“Yeah, Dr. Larch said he was just beginning to ease up on it now. You’re gonna feel rotten for a while, a day or two, but then it’ll be less and less pain each day.”

“When did you get here?”

“Sherlock and I just got into town. The puddle jumper from San Francisco to Arcata-Eureka was late.” He saw her eyes go vague and added, “Sherlock bought Sean a Golden Gate oven mitt at the San Francisco airport.”

“I’ll show it to you later, Lily,” Sherlock said. She was standing on the other side of Lily’s bed, smiling down at her, so scared for this lovely young woman who was her sister-in-law. She’d have bitten her fingernails if she hadn’t stopped some three years before. “It was between an oven mitt with Alcatraz on it and the Golden Gate. Since Sean gums everything, Dillon thought gumming the Golden Gate was healthier than gumming a Federal prison.”

Lily laughed. She didn’t know where it had come from, but she even laughed again. Pain seared through her side and her ribs, and she gasped.

“No more humor,” Sherlock said and lightly kissed her cheek. “We’re here and everything’s going to be all right now, I promise.”

“Who called you?”

“Your father-in-law, about two in the morning, last night.”

“I wonder why he called,” she said slowly, thinking about the pain that was now coming through and how she would deal with it.

“You wouldn’t expect him to?”

“I see now,” Lily said, her eyes suddenly narrow and fierce. “He was afraid Mrs. Scruggins would call you and then you would wonder why the family hadn’t called. I think he’s afraid of you, Dillon. He’s always asking me how you’re doing and where you are. When you were here before, I think you scared him really good.”

“Why would I scare him?”

“Because you’re big and you’re smart and you’re a special agent with the FBI.”

Sherlock laughed. “Lots of people don’t relax around FBI agents. But Mr. Elcott Frasier? I took one look at him and thought he probably chewed nails for breakfast.”

“He could, you know. Everyone thinks that, particularly his son, my husband.”

“Maybe he called because he knew we’d want to come here to see you,” Savich said. “Maybe he isn’t all that much of an iron fist.”

“Yes, he is. Tennyson was here earlier.” She sighed, tightened a bit from a jab of pain in her bruised ribs, the pulling in her side. “Thank goodness he finally left.”

Savich looked over at Sherlock. “What happened, Lily? Talk to us.”

“Everyone thinks I tried to kill myself again.”

“Fine, let them. It doesn’t matter. Talk, Lily.”

“I don’t know, Dillon, I swear I don’t. I remember that I had to drive that gnarly road to Ferndale, you know, 211? And that’s all. Everything else is just lost.”