“When is he supposed to let you know about this apartment?”
“He thought he’d know today, but I haven’t heard from him. If he doesn’t call by noon tomorrow, I’ll get in touch with him—”
“No, let me do it. I want to talk to him.”
“Dad, you won’t try to—”
“No, don’t worry.” His facial muscles felt bunched and tight. A tic seemed to want to start under his right eye; he made an effort to keep it still, his expression neutral. “I won’t argue with him or lecture him.”
“Please don’t.”
Cassie asked, “If it works out, this Boston apartment... when will you go?”
“As soon as possible. This weekend.”
“That soon? All right, don’t say anything, I’m not going to try to talk you out of it. But suppose the apartment doesn’t work out?”
“I don’t know yet. There’s one other possible arrangement I can make. No matter what, though, we’re leaving by the first of next week, before it’s too late.”
There were more words between the two, but Hollis was no longer listening. He moved to the couch, bent to kiss the top of his daughter’s head. “I’m going up to check on Kenny,” he said.
Much of Angela’s old room had been preserved as it was when she was growing up — the stuffed animals on their shelves, the movie- and rock-star posters decorating the walls, her collection of Nancy Drew and Judy Bolton books neatly displayed. Sentiment on Cassie’s part as well as on Angela’s. Kenny was asleep in the daybed next to her old twin, sprawled on his back, one hand fisted against his cheek, the other arm outflung, most of the bedclothes kicked off as usual. The night-light and the pale glow from the hall made his small face seem radiant. Sweet face, like his mother’s. He resembled Angela, though he’d inherited Pierce’s dark hair and complexion.
Hollis tiptoed in, lifted part of the tangled sheet, and covered the boy to his waist. He touched his lips gently to the smooth forehead, straightened, and stood looking down at his grandson in the shadow-edged light.
Nothing is going to happen to you or your mom, he promised silently. I swear it. I swear it on my own life.
In the darkness of their bedroom, no sleep again for either of them, they lay side by side without touching. Cassie had asked him to hold her, and for a time he had, but he was afraid she’d try to stir up more in the way of comfort; he knew he couldn’t oblige. Sexual dysfunction, the inability to sustain an erection — that was another symptom of escalating prostate cancer. He’d pretended his recent impotence was stress-related because he did not want her to know the truth yet. The early diagnosis, the hope that the cancer was slow-growing enough to maintain a lengthy wait-and-see monitoring... meaningless now. It was escalating, all right. The symptoms and the last battery of tests made that plain enough. Stan Otaki was going to insist, the next time he saw him, that they begin aggressive treatment — surgery, radiation therapy. Which was why he’d canceled two appointments in a row. The way things were now with Angela and Rakubian, he could not put up with strength-sapping doses of radiation, or pressure from Cassie to allow himself to be cut open. When Rakubian was no longer a threat, then he’d see the doctor, then he’d tell her, then he’d give his full attention to fighting the cancer.
“... you were tonight.”
“What?”
“I said, you still haven’t told me where you were tonight.”
“Leave it alone, Cass.”
“I can’t. I won’t. Where were you?”
The wind made noises in the Japanese elm outside the window. He listened, concentrating on the sounds. He had to pee again and he didn’t want to get up and go to the bathroom so soon after the last time.
“Answer me, Jack.”
“I drove down to the city,” he said.
“I knew it. You went after Rakubian.”
“You’re jumping to conclusions.”
“Am I? What did you intend to do?”
“He wasn’t home, he was up here terrorizing Angela.”
“That’s not an answer. What did you intend to do?”
He shifted position to ease the hurt in his bladder.
“Talk to me,” she said.
He couldn’t go there with her. Could not make her understand, and above all would not make her an accessory. “Talk to him again, that’s all. Plead with him. I knew it wouldn’t do any good, but I felt I had to try one more time.”
“Why didn’t you tell me, if that’s all it was?”
“Pride, I guess. And I didn’t want you to worry.”
A little silence. “That isn’t all,” she said. “You had something else in mind.”
“Like what? What’re you thinking?”
“I was scared to death all day you’d do something crazy.”
“I’m not crazy,” he said.
“We’re all a little crazy right now. But we’re not desperate enough to resort to murder.”
The word seemed to hang in the heavy blackness. He could almost hear it like an echo above the skirling of the wind.
“It’s what’s in your head, isn’t it?” Cassie said. “I don’t care about Rakubian, I despise him as much as you do — it’s you I’m concerned about. I couldn’t stand to lose you too.”
“You’re not going to lose me.”
“What else would you call sacrificing yourself for Angela?”
“Come on, now—”
“No, you come on. That’s exactly what it would be, a sacrifice. Even if you got away with it, it would destroy you.”
“Not if it made her and Kenny safe.”
“No matter what. You couldn’t live with a thing like that on your conscience. I know you, Jack Hollis.”
“Nobody knows another person that well.” But she was right, and no use in denying it. His conscience would tear him up. Not that he was about to let that stop him.
Something banged outside, far off but still loud enough to carry. Ordinary sound, bump in the night, but they both lay quiet for a time, listening.
Cassie said, “The one hope I have is that you’re not able to go through with it. Take a human life, even a life like David Rakubian’s.”
Sitting in the cold car with the .22 on his lap, frozen in place, crippled. Not able to go through with it.
“Don’t try to find out,” she said. “I’m begging you. Don’t do it.”
The darkness had begun to feel thick and oppressive, wool-like, as if it were contracting around him. “I won’t let that son of a bitch hurt the kids. Or you. Or me. That’s the bottom line.”
“It isn’t up to you. The problem is Angela’s, and whether we like it or not the decision of what to do about it is hers too. That’s the bottom line.”
“Run away, live in fear somewhere else. Some solution.”
“If she can stand it, so can we. I hate the idea as much as you do, but we’ve got to stand by her.”
“What about Rakubian?”
“There must be some other way...”