Her Last Scream (29 page)

The punch I made for the party at my place used rum and tequila and vodka and I called it Tubman’s Delight, because three cups would put you underground. It seemed funny when I thought it up.

Everyone who’d worked close on the case attended except for Cruz, who said she had “more paperwork to do than there probably is in the world”. But she was going to take a break next month, flying down to visit Casa Carson for at least a week, so the future was bright.

Rein was the star of the event. She wore a University of Colorado ski cap to hide her shiny pate, but everyone had to kiss the smooth terrain. She said you could make a wish and it would come true, called it baldhead voo-doo. People thought that was a lot funnier than Tubman’s Delight.

About halfway through I was at the railing looking out over the water. The moon was a new sliver, a “hopeful moon” Rein called it. She sashayed up to me, shot a glance behind her, Harry in a deck chair, Sally beside him. They looked good.

“How you doing, girl?” I asked.

“Trying to get the hate gang out of my head. It helps to realize a lot more women might have been killed if we hadn’t dug Trotman out of the woodwork.”

I nodded. “Little Bobby spent a lot of time corkscrewing himself into the university, a helluva plan. His only bad luck came when the head of his department started writing a history of misogyny. Even when Sinclair discovered Trotman, he had no idea the squirmy little monster was a killer.” I grinned. “Nailing Trotman was your doing, officer Early.”

Rein turned to study the moon, her elbows on the railing. She stole another glance behind her, saw Harry wandering into the kitchen for a refill.

“Do you think Harry’ll ever come to grips with me being a cop?” she asked, her voice low. “Stop worrying?”

“Fully? No. It’s the way he is, Rein.”

She sighed. “I’m re-thinking law school, Carson.”

“For you, or for Harry?”

“I shouldn’t put him through this any more. It’s not fair to –” Rein’s cell phone buzzed from her belt. She started to shut it off, saw the caller was Treeka Flood, now somewhere in Florida, Tommy Flood headed for federal prison.

I backed away and left Rein with her call. It was the first Rein had heard from Treeka since the rescue and I could pretty much figure what Miz Flood had to say. The conversation took three minutes and when Rein returned to me her eyes glistened with tears.

“Treeka said … she said I gave her a chance to have, to have …”

“Yeah,” I said. “Sometimes it happens like that.”

Harry wandered up with a fresh drink and started to say something. He frowned at Rein. “What’s wrong, girl? You look sad.”

Rein wiped a tear from her cheek and downed the rest of her punch. She grinned and poked Harry in his belly.

Said, “Bet I can make detective faster than you did.”