Liz had gone to Rider with the story at slightly after four that afternoon, knowing everything except where the meeting was to take place. For the next ninety minutes, the two of them, along with a good part of the sheriff’s department, had scoured the city and county for Icarus. They finally had turned him up in an Isla Vista head shop, at almost the exact time Hook was reaching the monastery and turning around, preparing to start back down the mountain.

Now Hook went on into the room and took one of the empty chairs in the row where Liz was sitting. She did not look at him, just sat there smoking and staring into space. And he understood why, could see clearly in her grave and beautiful eyes the terrible burden of the hanging judge, the whole story of his indictment and conviction and, now, sentencing. And, strangely, it disturbed him not for himself but for her, because it meant that all the lines were down between them now and she had no one to fall back on except Douglas and her hitchhikers and Mrs. Rubin, and he doubted if any of them could save even themselves, let alone her.

“Any word from Rider?” he asked.

Still she did not look at him. “I don’t work here.”

“I thought you might have heard.”

“I haven’t.”

Hook lit a cigarette, dragged, waited. “What will you do?” he said finally. “Afterwards? When it’s all over?”

“Will it be over? Ever?”

“Well, I think after what you did today—”

“And what was that?” she snapped. “Do you really know?”

“I know it wasn’t for me, Liz. You did it for Parnelli. To keep him from doing something stupid. Something that could hurt the rest of you. That’s all it was. I realize that.” Hook was not trying for such obvious sarcasm, but that was how it came out and there was no calling it back.

Even then it was not enough to make her look at him. He watched her get up and walk over to an ashtray stand, where she put out her cigarette.

“How much longer?” she asked the deputy.

He pushed back his chair, stretched, yawned. “Still the same, lady. Sergeant’s on his way. Be here any minute.”

“They’re long minutes.”

The man grinned. “Naaw. They just seem long.”

She returned to her chair. Hook decided to try again.

“You didn’t answer me before. What will you do when it’s over?”

She smiled bleakly. “Go directly to jail.”

Because she would not look at him, Hook found himself speaking to the floor. “That’s not true. After today—I mean your going to Rider and telling him everything, voluntarily—well I can’t see you getting anything more than a suspended sentence.”

“Or maybe a medal,” she suggested. “Don’t you think that might be in order too?”

“Liz, I want to help you.”

“Help me? Then stay out of my life.” She looked over at him now, and her eyes were cold with loathing. “Just stay out of my life.”