“Well, you-all can talk all night if you want. Let us get this gal to the hospital,” the older man said.

The ride back to the hospital took a while, and the young woman sat in back with me and chattered the whole time. She took my pulse and checked my temperature and did all kinds of things, including looking at the stitches in my scalp. From the slight face she made, I knew they weren’t in good shape.

“Now, I understand you had a cracked ulna a few days ago?” she asked. “I think you’ve graduated to a broken arm, but we’ll take us an X-ray to be sure.”

“Okay,” I said. We’d have to go into our savings to pay for my Doraville medical bills. That’d be that much longer until we could buy our house. But it was hard for me to worry about that right now, or much of anything else, being in this ambulance felt so blissful compared to my previous three hours of experience.

I felt so safe I actually fell asleep and had to blink my eyes open when we reached the hospital.

The whole hospital experience was déjà vu. I wasn’t in the same room—I think Ted Hamilton was in that one. I was down the hall and on the other side.

Sandra Rockwell was my most surprising visitor. After we’d done the “How are you” s and so forth, she said, “I want to apologize for something.”

I waited.

“I knew whoever attacked you, I knew it had to be the killer. And there wasn’t a trace of him. Or his vehicle. Turns out, Tom Almand says he parked over behind Hair Affair and cut across the back parking lots. Then he hid behind the Dumpster behind the motel. He was going to slash your tires, but then you came out, and he’d brought the shovel just on the off chance.”

I tried to remember where Hair Affair was—two doors down from the motel, I thought. It hardly mattered now.

“How’s he doing?” I asked.

“Tom?” She sounded surprised. “Talking his damn head off. But won’t mention his son.”

“Maybe Barney will,” I said. Again, I felt as if I hardly cared. Chuck Almand was gone now, and no amount of confession or explanation would bring him back.

Tolliver came in just then. He’d been in the cafeteria getting coffee and breakfast. He’d gotten me some coffee, and though I wasn’t sure if I was supposed to have it or not, I planned on drinking it. He bent over to kiss me, and I didn’t care, either, what Sandra Rockwell thought about that.

Klavin and Stuart came in then. They both looked exhausted, but they were smiling.