The office was silent for a long time. Reggie had nothing else to say. Glint was dead tired and,about to fall asleep on his feet. Dianne's mind was moving clearly now, for the first time in a week. Frightened as she was, she had escaped the dungeon at St. Peter's. She had seen sunlight and smelled real air. She was holding her lost son, and the other one would improve. All these people were trying to help. The lamp factory was history. Employment was now a thing of the past. No
more cheap trailers. No more worries about past due child support and unpaid bills. She could watch the boys grow up. She could join the PTA. She could buy some clothes and do her nails. Good gosh, she was only thirty years old. With a little effort and a little money, she could be attractive again. There were men out there.
As dark and treacherous as the future seemed, it could not be as horrible as the past six days. Something had to give. She was due a break. Have a little faith, baby.
"I guess we'd better get to Phoenix," she said.
Reggie grinned with relief. She pulled the agreement from a briefcase Glint brought with him. It had been signed by Harry and McThune. Reggie added her signature, and handed the pen to Dianne. Mark, now bored with hugs and tears, walked to the wall and admired a series of framed color photos of jets. "On second thought, I might be a pilot," he said to Glint.
Reggie took the agreement. "I'll be back in a minute," she said, opening the door and closing it behind her.
Trumann jumped when it opened. Hot coffee splashed from his trembling cup and burned his right hand. He cursed, and slung at the floor, then wiped it on his pants.
"Relax, Larry," Reggie said. "Everything's fine. Sign here." She stuck the agreement in his face, and Trumann scrawled his name. K.O. did the same.
"Get the plane ready," Reggie said. "They're going to Phoenix."
K.O. turned and flashed a hand signal at the agents by the hangar entry. McThune jogged toward them
with more instructions. Reggie returned to the ottice and closed the door.
K.O. and Trumann shook hands and smiled goof-ily. They stared at the door to the office.
"What now?" Trumann mumbled.
"She's a lawyer," K.O. said. "Nothing's ever easy with lawyers."
McThune walked to Trumann and handed him an envelope. "It's a subpoena for the Reverend Roy Fol-trigg," he said with a smile. "Judge Roosevelt issued it this morning."
"On Sunday morning?" Trumann asked, taking the envelope.
"Yeah. He called his clerk, and they met at his office. He's very excited about seeing Foltrigg back in Memphis."
The three chuckled at this. "It'll be served upon the reverend this morning," Trumann said.
After a minute, the door opened. Clint, Dianne, Mark, then Reggie filed out and headed for the tarmac. The engines were started. Agents scurried about. Trumann and Lewis escorted them to the hangar doors, and stopped.
K.O., ever the diplomat, offered his hand to Dianne, and said, "Good luck, Ms. Sway. Jason McThune will escort you to Phoenix, and handle things once you get there. You are completely safe. And if we can do anything to help, please let us know."
Dianne gave a sweet smile and shook his hand. Mark offered his, and said, "Thanks, K.O. You've been a real pain in the ass." But he was smiling, and it struck everyone as being funny.
K.O. laughed. "Good luck to you, Mark, and I assure you, son, you've been a bigger pain.",
"Yeah, I know. Sorry about all this." He shook hands with Trumann, and walked away with his mother and McThune. Reggie and Glint remained by the hangar door.
At some point, about halfway to the jet, Mark stopped. As if suddenly scared, he froze in place and watched as Dianne climbed the steps to the plane. At no time during the past twenty-four hours had it occurred to him that Reggie would be left behind. He had simply assumed, for whatever reason, that she would stay with them until this ordeal was over. She would fly off with them, and hang around the new hospital until they were safe. And as he stood there, a tiny figure on the vast tarmac, motionless and stunned, he realized she was not beside him. She was back there with Glint and the FBI.
He turned slowly, and stared at her in terror as this reality sunk in. He took two steps toward her, then stopped. Reggie left her small group and walked to him. She knelt on the tarmac, and looked into his panicked eyes.
He bit his lip. "You can't come with us, can you?" he asked slowly in a frightened voice. Though they had talked for hours, this subject was never touched.
She shook her head as her eyes watered.
He wiped his eyes with the back of his hand. The FBI agents were close by, but not watching. For once in his life, he was not ashamed to cry in public. "But I want you to go," he said.
"I can't, Mark." She leaned forward, took both of his shoulders, and hugged him gently. "I can't go."
Tears flooded his cheeks. "I'm sorry about all this. You didn't deserve it."
"But if it hadn't happened, Mark, I never
would've met you." She kissed him on the cheek, and held his shoulders tight. "I love you, Mark. I'll miss you."
"I'll never see you again, will I?" His lip quivered and tears dripped off his chin. His voice was frail.
She gritted her teeth and shook her head. "No, Mark."
Reggie took a deep breath, and stood. She wanted to grab him, and take him home to Momma Love. He could have the bedroom upstairs, and all the spaghetti and ice cream he could eat.
Instead, she nodded at the plane where Dianne was standing in the door, waiting patiently. He wiped his cheeks again. "I'll never see you again," he said, almost to himself. He turned, and made a feeble attempt to straighten his shoulders, but he couldn't. He walked slowly to the steps, and glanced back for one last look.
MNUTES LATER, AS THE PLANE TAXIED TO THE END OF
the runway, Glint eased to her side and took her hand. They watched silently as it took off and finally disappeared in the clouds.
She wiped tears from both cheeks. "I think I'll become a real estate lawyer," she said. "I can't take any more of this."
"He's quite a kid," Glint said.
"It hurts, Glint."
He squeezed her hand harder. "I know."
Trumann appeared quietly beside her, and the three of them looked at the sky. She noticed him, and pulled the micro-cassette tape from her pocket. "It's yours," she said. He took it.
"The body is in the garage behind Jerome Clifford's house," she said, still wiping tears, "886 East Brookline."
Trumann turned to his left and stuck a radio to his mouth. The agents bolted for their cars. Reggie and Glint did not move.
"Thanks, Reggie," Trumann said, now suddenly eager to leave.
She nodded at the distant clouds. "Don't thank me," she said. "Thank Mark."
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