Dear God, don't forsake me now, he prayed over and over. But he was beginning to doubt he would ever see them alive.
* They had fallen asleep again, Faith realized. She listened a moment. Yes, they were all breathing.
Faith had been trying desperately to stay awake. She was terrified that she would slip obliviously into the night. She wanted that for the children, but not for herself. She had to know when it was the end. Still, she had fallen asleep. Like someone lost in a snowstorm. Drowsiness crept up on her like a warm quilt and she had finally pulled it over her head. Yet she had awakened. This time.
She reached for the light. Where was it? She couldn 't remember. Her pocket. Yes, her pocket. Why did she want it? Yes, the time. What time was it?
It was noon. The Congregational church bells were ringing. She had heard them the day Cindy died. She couldn't hear them now. But she and the children were still alive. Was it a record ? She'd never know.
At twelve-one the door opened.
Faith watched it and knew she was supposed to do something.
The jars.
She picked up the jar and got unsteadily to her feet. Benjamin was still strapped to her chest and she pitched forward.
The door opened wider.
She straightened up and threw the jar at the opening with all her might. Pickle spices and rubbery undersized cucumbers flew in all directions as the missile fell short of the target, crashing on the floor instead. Light flooded in. Light silhouetting an enormous figure clad in a Burberry raincoat now spattered with vinegar. There was a smaller figure behind him, gabbling away.
Faith swayed and fell toward the door into John Dunne's arms. He dragged her into the open air and someone darted in for Jenny.
The fog began to clear. Benjamin began to cry. Faith took a deep breath.
Of course it was John Dunne. And he was crying or at least there were tears in his eyes. But who was that holding Jenny, exclaiming in what would have been a triumphant tone of voice if it had not also been so complacent, "You see ? I told you they'd be in here ? “
It was like a dose of ammonia salts. It was Millicent Revere McKinley.
Millicent Revere McKinley and John Dunne. Faith had never been so happy to see two people in her life. She turned to Jenny and they clutched each other tightly. There weren't any words now that they could safely speak.
Then Detective Dunne was guiding them up the stairs like some kind of oversized sheep dog. They got to the top just in time to see Eleanor. She was putting on her coat and hat under the close watch of two state policemen. She looked right through Jenny, Faith, and Benjamin as if they had been some particularly distasteful panes of glass. She did give an involuntary glance at John Dunne. It was hard not to. But the full force of her venom was reserved for Millicent.
“Rose never did trust you, Millicent. And to think I stood up for you all those years ! “
Millicent never turned a hair ; she simply gazed back steadily, and said, " I think these gentlemen are waiting for you, Eleanor, and we'd all like to get by if you don't mind.”
Faith began to giggle. They might have been trying to get out of a crowded theater aisle for all the emotion Millicent put into her voice. Here she was where hours before the woman slowly putting on what Faith knew was her Sunday best coat had held a gun to her back and everyone was behaving like Emily Post. Or age before beauty. Or evil before good.
Then before she thought about it, she blurted out the question that had been nagging at her all night, " Eleanor, was the gun loaded ? “
Eleanor acknowledged her presence with a look one might have given an adult asking who was buried in Grant's Tomb. "Of course the gun was loaded," she snapped, " What on earth is the use of an unloaded gun?”
Faith 's legs gave way under her and she heard John Dunne say, "Get that woman out of here. What are you all waiting for?”
After that Faith knew she was in a police car and that Jenny was being taken home in another. She also knew she was pulling into the parsonage driveway, but she didn't really believe she was home until Tom flung open the front door and crushed her in his arms. Oxygen and Tom. That was all anyone needed. She wouldn't have believed a few hours ago that she would ever feel this way again. Alive. Just plain alive. Then Benjamin in the Snugli, whom Faith had begun to think of as a somewhat smaller Siamese twin, was detached and taken upstairs by Pix.
Tom and Faith hugged, kissed, and cried, then hugged, kissed, and cried some more. After a while Faith found her legs, and other parts of her body seemed to be under her control again, and she said plaintively, "Tom, darling, I'm so hungry ! “
He beamed. Faith was back.
Before Tom could answer, Dunne's deep voice called out from the kitchen, "I don't know how to cook any of the stuff in here, so I sent one of the guys for pizza. I told them to put everything on it and you can pick off what you don't like."
“Tom," said Faith, "that man thinks of everything."
“ And so," replied Tom steering Faith through the kitchen door, "does that woman. Thank God for us.”
It hadn 't really occurred to Faith to wonder what Millicent was doing with John Dunne at Eleanor Whipple 's house. But it did occur to her to wonder why Millicent was sitting with Dunne so chummily at Faith's kitchen table. As was most of Faith 's known world. Her parents. Tom's parents. Hope. Dave Svenson. Tricia. And last but not least, Scott Phelan.
After another round of hugging and kissing and crying and hugging and kissing and crying some more, Tom returned to the point, " It was Millicent who figured out where you were, Faith."
“Millicent ! " Faith was stunned. It wasn't that long ago that she had tapped Ms. McKinley as suspect number one.
Millicent smiled wickedly. "Yes, dear, and I suppose now you're going to tell me you thought I killed Cindy and Patricia.”
Really the woman was as irritating as ever, but Faith began to think she might come to like her someday. In ten or twelve years maybe.
Faith sat down next to her and Tom hovered above with his hands anchoring her shoulders, just in case.
Pix walked in and reported that Benjamin was playing happily with Samantha.
“Now," she said, "why don't I get a bottle of champagne and you can tell all."
“The telling is a great idea," agreed Faith, looking hard at Millicent, "but champagne and pizza?"
“ Why not ? " asked Pix. " I thought champagne went with everything.”
Faith looked at her affectionately. There was a lot of work to do in this town. Maybe she'd add cooking lessons to the business.
“There's beer in the fridge, let's start with that.”
Charley MacIsaac brought the pizzas, practically a carload.
“ I knew half the town would be here," he said.
Finally they were all settled around the pizza-laden table either adding the virgin olive oil, grated cheese, and other things Faith had directed Tom to set out for their slices, or just methodically consuming them au naturel like John Dunne.
“You should try the pizza in the Bronx sometime," he told everyone reminiscently, "Now that 's real pizza.”
Faith was happy to sit there safe, warm, and just about fed, but there were too many missing pieces.
“ All right. Who goes first ? How the hell did Millicent figure out where we were ? " She knew she was swearing ; she figured she had the right.
Millicent looked over at Detective Dunne. They seemed to have developed their own special brand of communication. Faith wondered what the odds at Vegas might be on Millicent's joining the force. Like some sort of Yankee Miss Marple.
“You start, John. After all, you had figured it out, too, and it was only a question of time before you would have found the closet.”