Annie has been good. Michael is more of a little man than we'd thought. Some thieves came by and Michael saved my life. We weren't hurt. Hurry. Always, Sarah.
At the bottom, the letters larger, scrawled quickly, Rourke thought, was written:
I love you, John.
Rourke leaned back against the barn door, rereading the note, and when he was through, rereading it again.
He didn't look at his watch, but when finally he looked up, the moon seemed higher.
He folded the half-voided check carefully and placed it in his wallet, looked up at the stars, and his voice, barely a whisper, said, "Thank you."
John Rourke slung the CAR-15 under his right shoulder and started walking, away from the barn, past the gutted house and into the woods. He stopped and looked back once, lighting a cigar, then turned and didn't look back again.
The End