She found a smile. “Okay, Scott.”

Mike Roman came closer. “Probably time to go.”

Caitlin turned and saw a throng of media badgering a pair of security guards.

Mike pointed across the field. “Help’s on the way.”

A BPD sedan drove across the grass, Jerry Greenwood at the wheel, Maverick riding shotgun. Mary Lubbers-Gaffney’s green Honda followed, windows open, radio blaring the Grateful Dead’s “Casey Jones.” Greenwood and Maverick got out.

“Don’t you hate reporters?” Jane said, before passing them to go on the offensive.

Greenwood knelt at Caitlin’s feet. “How are you?”

She grabbed her crutches. “Why are you down on one knee?”

He looked flustered. “I’m so sorry.”

“Get up. A cop begging a reporter’s forgiveness on one knee is a journalist’s money shot.”

He stood and helped her up. “Mary’s gonna get you out of here.”

“Great. Get the door for a lady?”

Greenwood ran to Mary’s car, opened the back door. Caitlin saw Mary behind the wheel, Lakshmi at her side.

She called back to Scott, “You gonna be okay?”

Canton smiled again. She couldn’t be sure, but this one looked like eighty percent. “Go. Therapy, talk, friends—”

“Help,” she said. “I promise.”

Chapter 87

CHAPTER

87

“CAN WE GET some air in here?”

Mary lowered the rear windows. “Anything you want, Caitie. We won’t be in this car long.”

Caitlin let the fragrant breeze fill her lungs. “Why not?”

Lakshmi leaned over the front seat. “The press saw Mary’s car. We’ve got to switch. Get those crutches ready.”

“The hospital made me take them,” Caitlin said. “I’m fine. I ran barefoot through a cornfield two nights ago.”

She sat back, closed her eyes, saw Angela Chapman sprinting ahead of her through the rain. She opened her eyes, sat forward. “Lakshmi, how’s Angela doing?”

The girl’s expression darkened.

Mary fielded the question. “They’re keeping her under observation, Caitie. No one’s really allowed near—”

Lakshmi cut her off. “She doesn’t want to speak to me, or see me. Ever.”

“You don’t know that,” Mary said. “It’s early.”

Lakshmi shook her head. “She screamed when she saw me, Caitlin. Said it was all my fault, said she never wanted to see me again.”

Caitlin touched her shoulder. “Lakshmi, you can’t imagine what Branford did to her. You don’t know her reality. You’re a good friend. Someday Angela will thank God you were there for her, even if she didn’t know you were. Take it from me.” She caught Mary’s eyes in the rearview.

Lubbers blinked away a tear. “Here we go.”

They pulled into a lot and parked next to Lakshmi’s graphic-wrapped Toyota.

Caitlin reached for her crutches, then laughed. “Guess it’s time for a paint job.”

Lakshmi helped her into the passenger side of the Missing-Chapman-mobile. Mary handed Lakshmi keys and walked around to the driver’s side.