Because I'm Watching (42 page)

Rainbow explained, “During the Ice Age, Native Americans came across the land bridge from Asia through Alaska and spread across the continents.”

Solemnly, Bergen explained, “The fur represents the Native American attire as they trekked through the frozen wasteland.”

Kateri gave Rainbow the thumbs-up. “A thoughtful combination of patriotism and ethnic pride.”

“Exactly. And
this
is a combination of deep-fried dough and celebration!” From her big apron pocket, Rainbow produced a large plate and a greasy bag that smelled like heaven. She shook the bag, poured the contents on the plate, and with great ceremony placed it on the table. “Dax's hot homemade doughnuts doused with cinnamon sugar. He decided to make them today for the winner … whichever one of you it was.” She produced two small lidded plastic containers and put them beside the doughnuts. “Served with mascarpone and the first batch of his homemade strawberry jam. The berries are small this year, but sweet and flavor-dense.”

Kateri lifted one of the small, round, crusty brown nuggets. She smeared it with rich mascarpone and ruby-red jam, popped it in her mouth, and moaned at the blend of spice, cheese, and berries. “Thank Dax. He's the best.”

“It was my idea.”

Kateri could never say Rainbow's hints were subtle. “Thank you, Rainbow.”

Bergen sipped his coffee.

Kateri shoved the plate at him. “Come on, I can't eat all these. Or I could, but I shouldn't. Celebrate with me!”

Rainbow knelt by the table and from the same capacious apron pocket she produced a heart-shaped organic dog treat she had made with her own hands. With the best of intentions, she offered it to Lacey.

Lacey took it politely and waited until Rainbow stood to receive Bergen's groans of appreciation. Then sweet, tactful Lacey sneaked into the dim corner against the wall and spit out the treat. Kateri didn't know what Rainbow baked into that thing, but she knew Lacey would eat anything … except that.

Rainbow basked in Bergen's lavish praise, then headed off to take more doughnut orders.

The door opened. Noah strutted in and over to the table. He opened his arms wide. “I'm so glad I told you to cry during that press conference!”

Kateri laughed so hard tears leaked from her eyes.

“Yes! That's good! Keep it up with the tears and we'll win the next election, too!” Noah kissed the top of her head and strutted off, out the door, and down the street.

Cordelia watched hungrily, then once more bent her head to her computer.

For Kateri, something about Bergen's behavior seemed off. He was too relaxed, too laconic, like he knew a secret she didn't know or he'd found the Holy Grail and had it hidden under his shirt. Leaning back, she studied him. “What are you so smug about?”

“Smug? Me?” He pretended astonishment, then laughed. “I'm thinking two votes
was
scary close, especially when you were the first vote … and I was the second.”

“I—what? The second vote? What do you mean…?” It took her a moment to grasp the concept. Her voice rose incredulously. “Are you saying
you
voted for me?”

He put his finger to his lips. “More quietly, please.” He popped another doughnut in his mouth.

She whispered, “You voted for me? Why? Why? Why? You were a good opponent. If I hadn't been running, I would have voted for you. What were you
thinking
?”

He got serious fast. “I was thinking I wanted to stay married. I was thinking my wife was right and running for office brought out the worst in me. I was thinking I have two kids and I want to be there for their soccer games and their school plays and their music recitals regardless of what crime has been committed.” His voice grew softer. “I was thinking I went looking for that poor little girl so I could win the election. Not because I was concerned for a child. Not because I wanted her to live and grow in the sunshine. Not even because I wanted justice to prevail. But to win the darned election.”

Kateri winced to hear it.

“I didn't like the man I had become. By the time I realized that, it was late in the campaign. I backed off on the hand-shaking and ass-kissing and worked full time for the police force again. And when I went into the voting booth, I voted for you.”

“Wow.” She put mascarpone and jam on a doughnut and offered it to him. “You win the lottery for being a really good guy.”

Bergen accepted his prize and ate it. “Depends on who you talk to. When I told Mr. Caldwell what I'd done, he about choked. Me.” He slid his sunglasses down his nose and peered over the top of them.

Bergen had a black eye.

“Mr. Caldwell hit you?” Kateri's voice rose.

Bergen put his hand over arm and squeezed warningly. “Shh!”

She glanced around. People were watching out of the corners of their eyes. “No wonder you're wearing sunglasses!”

Bergen pushed them back up. “He packs a pretty good punch.”

“I guess!” Kateri started laughing. “You didn't arrest him for assaulting an officer?”

“No, and don't you dare tell the other guys. It's bad enough having them commiserate with me over losing the election. I don't need to get into trouble about getting my ass kicked by an octogenarian.” But a smile played around Bergen's mouth. “You cause earthquakes.”

It was stupid, but she blushed. “Hardly ever!”

“Glad to hear it. They mostly make our jobs harder. But I think maybe whatever power you have has given you a solid intuition for the job. I would have arrested Maddie Hewitson and done everything in my power to put her away for a thousand years. You realized something else was going on. Because of you, justice was done.”

“Gut instinct.” Speaking of gut, it was time for another doughnut.

“I don't have that instinct. But I'm logical to a fault. Or so Sandra tells me. We'll make a good team for Virtue Falls.” He offered his hand.

She extended hers.

He groped for it, but he wasn't looking. Something outside the window had caught his attention.

Kateri turned to see.

Stag Denali strolled down the street in his designer jeans and his white button-up shirt, looking too suave for Virtue Falls and yet … right at home. He gazed through the window at her and smiled. Then his head wrenched around. He looked up the street—and dove toward the ground.

What the hell…? Kateri heard the screech of a car tearing up the asphalt.

In a violent motion, Bergen yanked Kateri to the floor.

As she fell, something slammed into her ribs. She landed flat on her back. Hit her head. Heard a series of blasts accompanied by the sound of shattering glass. Heard a screaming in her ears.

She opened her eyes. The world blurred and spun.

Lacey stood over her, kissing her face and growling at Bergen.

Bergen knelt beside Kateri, yelling into his radio. “Officer down! Officer down at the Oceanview Café!”

Blood. There was blood on the floor.

Dazed, Kateri put her hand to her side, lifted it, and stared at her palm.
Her
blood. “Damn!” She'd been shot. She took a breath. She was in
pain.
She looked toward the large window beside their table. The glass had shattered under the impact of … something.

Bullets. A lot of bullets.

The café was a freak show of shrieking tourists, seniors who huddled under the tables and shouted instructions at Bergen and Kateri, and a confused Dax, who appeared out of the kitchen, holding a plate with a Monte Cristo sandwich and a metal spatula like a weapon.

He threw everything. He dropped to his knees.

Bergen ripped at Kateri's shirt, opened it, and looked. “Not life-threatening.” He grabbed the napkins off the table. “Hold those. Apply pressure.”

She did, and at the same time soothed Lacey. “It's all right. I'm all right. Bergen is one of the good guys.”

Lacey eyed him, kissed Kateri one more time, jumped over the top of her, and raced into the chaos of the café.

Bergen again shouted into his radio. “Drive-by shooting. Black Dodge SRT Hellcat. Suspect not apprehended. Last seen heading out of town north. Proceed with caution. Sheriff wounded! More wounded at the Oceanview Café. More wounded! Assistance required!” Keeping low, he crawled away. Crawled toward …

Blood rolled in a widening puddle across the linoleum.

Not Kateri's. Whose…?

By the counter. Lacey guarded an unmoving body sprawled gracelessly on the hard floor.

Dax knelt beside Lacey, moaning and rocking.

“Oh, no.” Ignoring the pain, Kateri pushed herself over and onto her knees. Keeping the napkins pressed against her ribs, she crawled after Bergen.

Rainbow. Rainbow was unconscious, shot once through the lung and once through the abdomen.

*   *   *

Two hours later, Kateri sat outside the hospital, on the top concrete step, holding Lacey in her lap.

The dog pressed her head into Kateri's chest.

Kateri ignored the pain from her broken ribs and cuddled her traumatized pet. Lacey had protected Rainbow until the moment the ambulance had taken her away. Then she crept into the dim corner of the café, and as reparation, ate the despised dog treat.

No stiff-necked minister could ever convince Kateri that this dog did not have a soul.

A black Cadillac SRX crossover pulled into the parking lot; she wasn't a bit surprised to see Stag Denali get out and head toward her. She had to give the man bonus points for good psychology; as soon as he got close, he sat on the bottom step and stared up at her.

“Should you be sitting out here unprotected?” His voice was warm and concerned.

She wished she believed he was worried. But over and over again in her mind, she remembered him diving to the ground before she heard the screech of the killer car, and remembered, too, he was a gambler, a bouncer, a mobster. He was a violent man who had gone to prison for the death of a peace officer. In answer to his question, she pointed vaguely around the parking lot. “My men are guarding the hospital.”

He nodded as if relieved.

She added, “Most of them, of course, are out hunting John Terrance Senior and John Junior.”

“How is Rainbow?”

“She's in surgery, not expected to live.” The woman who had been the midwife on the day Kateri was born, the woman who had borne witness to Kateri's life, who had given advice, support, and encouragement … was not expected to live.

 

CHAPTER FIFTY-SEVEN

On Thursday, Sheriff Kwinault came into Maddie's room to fill out the police report on Barbara's attack the day before.

If Jacob hadn't known about the attack at the Oceanview Café, he would have said that, although Sheriff Kwinault walked stiffly and turned as if she were in pain, still she behaved in a normal manner.

Clearly Maddie did not agree. Almost immediately she asked what was wrong, and she kept asking until Sheriff Kwinault told her about the drive-by shooting, about how the Terrances still evaded capture, and that Rainbow hovered on the brink of death.

When Sheriff Kwinault broke down in tears, Jacob escaped from the room to pace the corridor and fret. He had moved to Virtue Falls, closed himself in, and never gone to the Oceanview Café. He didn't know Rainbow, but all around him the medical professionals, the hospital security guards, the police, and the patients agonized and hoped. From what he could understand, this Rainbow person could have manipulated world events. Instead, she had chosen to be the kingpin of a much smaller universe, the universe of Virtue Falls, and Virtue Falls prayed for her recovery.

For Sheriff Kwinault and for Maddie, he hoped God listened to their prayers.

*   *   *

On Friday, Jacob first went to see Maddie at the hospital. Then he returned home. He dressed in his military uniform, drove to Seattle to the funeral home, and gave the eulogy for Brandon LaFreniere. He spoke of Brandon's intelligence, his strength under torture, and his bravery under fire. He spoke of the spirit of a man who faced the rest of his life in pain, without an arm and a leg, and who yet declared he
would
be happy, for nothing could ever be as bad as the cruelty and terror he had already faced. Jacob spoke of the lessons Brandon had taught them all, the inspiration Jacob himself had derived from simply knowing him. He paid tribute to his fallen comrade, and when he was done, Vera LaFreniere pressed his hand between hers, and with tears in her eyes, she thanked him.

Perhaps he couldn't truly live for his brainiacs. But he had given comfort to Brandon's mother, and today, for Jacob, that was enough.

*   *   *

On Sunday, Jacob drove up to the hospital entrance, got out, and hovered while one of the nurses wheeled Maddie out and helped her into the passenger seat. Jacob felt as secure as he could, assuming the care of a victim convalescing from multiple stab wounds: he had her medications, he had written instructions on her care, he had phone numbers to call, and best of all, he had Dr. Frownfelter next door.

As Jacob put the car in gear, Dr. Frownfelter rushed out of the hospital.

Maddie opened the window.

Frownfelter put his big hand on the door, leaned down, looked her in the eyes, and said, “Young lady, I give patients one of two lectures. I either tell them that they must begin activity or they will atrophy, or I tell them to take it easy. You are to take it easy. Jacob, you're in charge. Remember, Maddie, if you feel like overdoing, I live next door. I will find out.”

Maddie smiled and promised not to overdo it.

Jacob promised to make sure she didn't.

Dr. Frownfelter slapped the door and waved them on.

As Jacob and Maddie drove away, she smiled drowsily, leaned her head against the headrest, and closed her eyes. Not until they turned onto Dogwood Blossom Street did she rouse and look around.

An orange moving truck was parked in front of Mrs. Butenschoen's house. A stream of people—relatives, Jacob assumed—trekked back and forth carrying boxes and furniture. An older gentleman—Mrs. Butenschoen's brother?—was speaking to the local yard service, and while Jacob and Maddie watched, a real estate salesman pulled up to the curb.