She was coming down, more herself again, so he gave her back her SIG. She sort of slinked sideways into the living room, fanned her gun toward the shadows.
He didn’t smile. “You can put the gun down, Julia. The guy’s gone.”
“Yeah, okay—” She carefully laid her SIG on top of an antique marquetry table, and turned to see him speaking on his cell. When he punched off, he said, “I called Captain Paulette again, told him I’d arrived. He and his team will be here soon. He’ll have his patrol officers out looking for this guy. His officers will start interviewing the neighbors in the morning. It was the same guy, right?”
“Oh yeah, like Thursday night, he didn’t even bother trying to hide his face because he planned to kill me. Didn’t I already tell you that?”
“Yeah, but tell me again.”
“Okay. I couldn’t tell all that much when he was in my bedroom because it was really dark, but when he ran out into the corridor, I could see him plain as day. He was wearing his glasses, but not his Burberry. A dark leather jacket. I think he was wearing black boots. I’ve got to take more shooting lessons, the guy moved so fast. That second time I shot at least two feet wide. I killed my lamp. Then I shot my newel post but that turned out okay. It exploded shards of oak and gouged his face and neck. Got him good, that had to have hurt.”
“Well done.”
She sighed, and for the first time felt a smack of cold exhaustion.
“Captain Paulette will take care of notifying all the hospitals. Maybe his arm is bad enough that he’ll need medical help. Maybe his eyes too. Okay, I want you to start at the beginning all over again.”
She sat on one of the brocade sofas next to him, turned to face him. Before she got started, Captain Paulette walked in. “The front door was unlocked,” he said.
“Good timing, Frank,” Cheney said, and nodded to Julia.
“Hello, Captain Paulette. Okay, I can do this. The thing is, it all happened so fast, but I think I can get it right now.”
But for the moment, she couldn’t speak. She tugged her sock over the hole in the big toe.
Cheney saw Frank give Julia Ransom the once-over, just as he had. Her eyes were still dilated, confused, and he knew she was trying to adjust to the threat of death suddenly gone. “Okay, Julia, while Captain Paulette contacts hospital ERs and gets his men situated, I want you to lean back, close your eyes, and replay the whole thing in your mind. Take deep breaths, try to think clearly.”
“But—”
“You’ll think of more details to tell Captain Paulette, you’ll see.”
Julia heard cars driving up, but no sirens, and that was a relief. Her neighbors still hadn’t stopped giving her sideways looks since August’s murder six months before.
Cheney saw she was still too wired. He rose, offered her his hand. “Tell you what. While Captain Paulette speaks to the officers, let’s make some coffee.”
Captain Paulette sent his eyes heavenward. “Thank you, make it strong. Then I want all the pesky details, Mrs. Ransom.”
It was 4:00 a.m. when Julia watched the people from the forensic unit pack up their gear and tell Captain Paulette they’d be back to finish digging the bullets out of the walls in the morning. “Lots of flying lead,” one of the techs said. “We’ve already marked several drops of his blood inside the house and outside on the walkway. We’ve got maybe another couple of hours tomorrow.”
Captain Paulette said to her, “I called the cops off your house after it was quiet last night, had them doing drive-bys tonight. Sorry, bad call. You’ll have full-time protection again. I should take your gun in but I won’t, particularly after I went to so much trouble getting you a permit on Cheney’s say-so.”
“Thank you, Captain Paulette. I fully plan to keep sleeping with my SIG.”
Julia and Cheney watched Captain Paulette detour to a patrol car parked at the curb. She said to Cheney, “Thanks for volunteering to stay. Even with officers right outside, I’m scared down to my bones. I want to say I can take care of myself—I mean, I sure did tonight, didn’t I? But, well, still, I appreciate it. Follow me, I’ll show you to a guest room.”
She paused a moment, eyed him up and down. “I don’t think the bougainvillea room is quite in your style. It’s too girly-girl. I’ll take you to August’s room.”
It was a large bedroom with a big window that gave onto the bay, with wallpaper that reminded him of the middle of a forest in the deep fall. It was soothing, as mellow as a good massage. “There should be birds chirping.”