She clammed up and looked terrified. “I can’t believe I said that. I’m crazy, aren’t I?”
“If you’re crazy,” Ethan said matter-of-factly, “then we all are.”
His words did the trick. Glenda’s eyes cleared. “It’s true. He was there, inside me, but I didn’t know it, not until she hit me. Thank God you hit me again, Joanna. That second whack must have knocked him right out of me. I don’t remember anything until I woke staring up at Ethan’s face.”
Larch said, “You scared the crap out of me, Glen. Would you look at that mouse. What did Jeff say?”
“He thought it was cute once I convinced him I wasn’t going to croak.”
32
ETHAN SAID TO SHERLOCK and Savich, “Jeff Bauer, Glenda’s husband, is a ranger with the Glenwood District, a real hardnose—I’ve seen him stare down a bear that was stealing food. He and Glen have only been married—what? Six months? He’s one of the many out looking for Blessed. I’m surprised he isn’t here hovering.”
Glenda smiled. “I told him I was okay, but you know Jeff. Don’t be surprised, Ethan, if he comes charging in here any time now. He did freak when I called him, since he knew about what happened to Ox. He came running over to Dr. Spitz’s.”
Savich said, “Glenda, at any point, did you hear Blessed speaking in your head, telling you what to do?”
She shook her head. “It was like I was gone, or buried so deep I might as well have been gone. I was only there after Joanna hit me that first time. And there was Big Louie biting my leg, and then Autumn was hitting me in the back with a pan.” Glenda patted Autumn’s cheek. “You and your mom mounted a full-blown attack on him. Really, thank you. You too, Big Louie.” She leaned down and scratched behind Big Louie’s ears.
Sherlock felt her own shoulders tighten at the overflowing tension she heard in Glenda’s voice, even as she’d tried to joke about what had happened to her. She asked Ethan, “Where did Big Louie get his name?”
Ethan laughed. “My grandfather’s old hound dog was called Big Louie. I remember my folks called him Saint Louie, since my grandfather was such a piece of work and they figured the hound had to be a real saint to put up with him. But the truth is, the two were closer than ham and rye.
“Big Louie was ancient when he died, and he died a couple hours after my grandfather passed. My dad had them buried together. Believe me, no one told the authorities about that. Big Louie was my constant companion when I was a little kid. I guess I didn’t want to let him go. Big Louie doesn’t mind being Louie the Second, do you, boy?”
Big Louie woofed and butted Ethan’s hand with his nose.
Glenda’s husband, Jeff, came striding into the room at that moment looking like a wild man until he heard his wife laugh. He sucked down a deep breath, looked at his wife, winced at the black eye. “Oh, babe, I told you not to mix it up with Cloris over at Ty Harper’s bar.”
Glenda laughed. The headache was nearly gone. “I could take big-mouthed Cloris, trust me.”
Some of the tension leaked out of the room. Thank God, Sherlock thought.
Twelve people ate outside on a long picnic table covered with two red-and-white checkered tablecloths and what seemed like enough food to feed them twice over.
Sherlock saw one barbecued rib left on the huge platter, a couple of pieces of zucchini, and that was it. She was so full that the single lonely rib dripping with barbecue sauce didn’t even tempt her. They drank coffee and tea and soft drinks under the slowly darkening sky. The air was cooling, and Joanna put her own sweater around her daughter’s shoulders. It was turning into a fine evening, what with the beautiful mountains hunkered around them, changing colors every minute in the fading light.
Jeff took Glenda’s hand and rose from the large picnic table. “I need to get my princess to bed, maybe put another ice pack on her eye.”
Slowly, everyone got themselves together, and the mood changed. For a while there, it was sharing a meal with friends, the conversation light, but now, as night was closing in, Blessed loomed large again.
Two deputies would remain, keeping watch.
Savich and Sherlock remained seated. Joanna knew there would be more discussion. She thanked each of the deputies, watched her daughter solemnly shake their hands. When only the five of them remained, Autumn leaned up and whispered to her mother, “I have to go to the bathroom.”
“I’ll take you,” Ethan said immediately, and started to get up.
“No, no, I’ll go with her,” Joanna said. “We’ll be right back.”