“Did he give you any names, Luke? We can’t just go up to a door and knock and ask if they saw Virginia or if they’re snake handlers. It’s against the law you know.”

“Asking about your wife?”

“Snake-handling, Luke.” He wasn’t being too quick here.

“Then how come they don’t arrest them?”

“I think they have to be endangering others.”

“Well, hell, Patricia Anne. That’s what they’re doing carrying those copper-tailed-rattle-mouthed-moccasins around.”

“One o’clock, Luke.” I hung up and went to take a shower.

I hadn’t checked my messages the night before, so as soon as I dried my hair, I turned them on. An invitation to join the Angel Sighting Society, a reminder of a dental appointment (damn, I’d forgotten that), and Mitzi from next door. She had a present for David Anthony and she and Arthur wanted to see our Warsaw pictures.

Hell, I hadn’t even had them developed.

I called her, apologized for not getting back sooner, halfway explained what had been going on, told her that David Anthony was now Brother, and invited her to go to Oneonta with me to get Luke.

“Pukey Lukey? You’re driving him home from the hospital?”

“Yep.”

I thought I heard a snicker.

“Patricia Anne, much as I’d love to keep you company, I can’t do it today. I’ve got all sorts of running around to do.”

I didn’t blame her.

At one o’clock, straight up, I walked into Luke’s room. He looked at his watch.

“They brought me lunch.”

“Good.” At least I hoped it was. “You’re ready then?” I asked.

“All I’ve got is this Georgia suitcase.” He held up a plastic Rich’s bag. “Richard brought me some pajamas and clean clothes.”

Guilt. I should have remembered that he needed things like toiletries and pajamas and that his clothes had been covered in blood.

“You’re checked out?”

“Had to promise them my first-born child. Damn, Patricia Anne. You been in a hospital lately?”

“No, thank God. Do they have to take you out in a wheelchair?”

“I suppose.” Luke mashed the call button.

“Yes?” came a disembodied female voice.

“My cousin’s here to get me.”

“Okay. Be right there.”

I looked at Luke. He was pale but not exceptionally so. The only strange thing about his appearance was a red streak across the top of each cheekbone as if someone had applied blush and not brushed it out evenly.

He noticed me looking.

“You see these?” He ran his fingers across each cheek. “Allergic reaction to the dye they put in me to do a brain scan. Had to give me shots of antihistamines.”

“Is it going to be okay?” I didn’t want to be halfway to Birmingham and have him go into anaphylactic shock.