When I finally came to at three that afternoon, she was still sleeping, her narrow face gray and puffy. I stumbled to my feet and into my well-worn clothes, wishing the woman officer had brought something clean in my size last night.

I roused Catherine to tell her I was leaving to find food, but would be back within an hour. She blinked at me dopily and went back to sleep. When I returned with a bag of groceries and a hot pizza, I was stunned to find Darraugh Graham waiting for me. He had hired a small plane to

collect his mother, he said, and he planned to fly Catherine and me down to Chicago with him. I explained that I already had two cars at the cottage, but he told me he’d send up a team later in the week to drive them back.

“Mother told me what you did the last twenty-four hours. For her, for the boy, for Catherine. It’s enough for one week. I’m going to collect Mother at the hospital now; I’ll swing back for you and Catherine. My pilot is instrument rated, but it’s a small plane, it’s better to fly while we still have light.”

I said I needed to check with the local lawyer to make sure everything was settled with the local police, but Darraugh had taken care of that, too. I think I was twelve the last time anyone took care of things for me. I thanked him shakily and went down the hall to rouse Catherine.

On the flight south, we sat in a stupor for most of the journey. At the little airport on the lakefront where we landed, Darraugh had a car waiting. He sent his driver out to New Solway with his mother and escorted Catherine and me into the city in a cab. When he directed the cab to the Banks Street apartment, Catherine started sobbing again: she couldn’t see her grandmother, she wouldn’t see her father, not now, not after seeing Benji die and listening to everyone call him a terrorist. Finally, not knowing what else to do, I said she could come home with me.

CHAPTER 56

Death Notices

At my apartment, Darraugh paid off the taxi and walked us to the door, saying he wanted to talk to me.

“That’s good, because I want to talk to you, too,” I said. “I have to explain to my neighbor what I’ve been doing and get Catherine settled in. Do you want to meet tomorrow?”

“Tonight. I need to go to Washington tomorrow. I’ll use your phone while you do what you have to do.”

Mr. Contreras and the dogs boiled out of his apartment just then. Darraugh withstood the onslaught remarkably well. He and Mr. Contreras had met once or twice, but they had about as much in common as a fish and a giraffe-they were both animals, but that was as far as it went. Catherine, on the other hand, took to Mr. Contreras at once. Peppy helped, but Mr. Contreras’s direct, unpretentious personality reassured her as little else had these last few days.