“That must be it,” Jenkins said.

—

They were crouched over laptops in the back room of Skinner & Holland when Shrake wandered in. He was eating a Zinger, and said, “Hey, guys, I hurt too much to do paperwork.”

“Fuck you, then,” Jenkins said.

“Where’s my car?” Shrake asked.

“Back in the alley,” Virgil said. “I got your keys in my Tahoe. I’ll get them.”

Shrake stepped toward the back door. He was wearing a beige cotton golf jacket and a pale yellow golf shirt. Virgil stepped up behind him, to follow him out, frowned, and said, “Hey, Shrake, take off your jacket.”

“What?”

“Take the jacket off. Here, let me help.”

Shrake shook his head, said, “Stiff,” and let Virgil help him with the jacket. “What’re you doing?”

Virgil pivoted him toward Jenkins, who stood up, and said, “Goddamnit.”

Shrake: “What?”

“You popped a stitch or two. Or eight. You’re bleeding through your shirt,” Virgil said. He looked at Jenkins. “You want to take him?”

Shrake: “I’m not . . .”

Jenkins: “Yes, you are. Don’t fight it; don’t be a jackass. C’mon.”

The two big men went out the door, and Shrake spent another two days in a Fairmont hospital bed.

Later in the summer, he told Virgil that Jenkins had been right: the scar tightened up his golf swing and took three strokes off his handicap.

—

The plastic surgeons at the Mayo were fascinated by Ann Apel’s injuries, and she became something like a lab case. They could do a lot to help her because she hadn’t totally destroyed anything on her face, though she’d injured much of it. She would always speak with a severe impediment because of the damage to her tongue, which was impossible to completely fix. The combination of missing tissue and scarring, and the lack of suitable transplant tissue, meant it would be permanently twisted and rigid.

Bone grafts repaired her jaw and made it nearly as good as new. Her lips had been ample, and after several surgeries, the bullet damage had been diminished to the point that strangers couldn’t see it at all. Skin and cartilage from her ears re-formed her nose.

Not that it mattered too much. Disfiguration in a person is easily adjusted to by friends and coworkers, who become familiar with the situation. Since Apel would be in the same penitentiary until she was in her seventies, her friends and coworkers would have plenty of time to adjust.

—

Davy Apel was tried simultaneously with his wife. They were both convicted and got identical sentences. Their lawyers submitted bills to the Osbornes’ estates and got all the money due to the Apels. Even that wasn’t quite enough: their house and heavy equipment was auctioned off, and the lawyers got that, too.