Saturday Wee Small Hours
Halifax Homestead
It was past midnight when Jim came slowly to consciousness. The room glowed with a pearl-colored light. It illuminated the furniture and the walls and the woman in his arms, turning her skin to alabaster. He had persuaded her to stretch out on the bed, to nap, and had lain down beside her, not realizing he, too, was on the point of collapse.
“Did I wake you?” she murmured.
“Yes.” He smiled, then rolled up on his side. “Why aren’t you asleep?”
“I wanted to look at you.”
“Have I changed?”
“I think I’m the one who’s changed.”
He saw her swallow.
“Did you ever reach for something you wanted, Jim, then pull back because you were afraid touching would destroy it, like touching a soap bubble?”
He nodded.
“That’s what I’m afraid of. I’m afraid, if I reach for happiness, it will vanish. And I don’t know if I could stand that again.”
“I’m not a soap bubble, Ginny. I’m not going to disintegrate if you touch me.” Jim pushed himself upright, his back to the head of the bed, then slipped an arm under her and pulled her up beside him. He took a deep breath. “Is this about Hal?”
She nodded.
He sighed. “I wish I could erase the memory of what he did to you. He stole your innocence, your faith in mankind, your trust in men, and I hate him for it.”
“If you hate him, it will poison you. That’s part of what I’m afraid of.”
Jim nodded. The thing to do was forget him. “How about if I make you a promise? If you marry me, I promise to live every moment to the fullest, to love you and our children unconditionally, to support you and lean on you and never, ever to let my temper get in the way of our happiness again.”
She smiled up into his face. “That sounds like a lovely soap bubble.”
He smiled back. “Do you know who holds the world’s record for the longest lasting soap bubble?”
She shook her head.
“Sir James Dewar, Scottish chemist extraordinaire. His record is one hundred and eight days. He was studying surface tension.”
He bent down and kissed her. “If anyone can make a soap bubble last a lifetime, we can.” He closed his arms around her, holding her to his heart until his stomach interrupted them.
“Sorry about that. Are you hungry? We missed dinner.”
She nodded.
“Okay. Stay warm. I’ll be right back.”
Jim climbed off the bed. He hadn’t undressed, so all he had to do was slip his feet into his shoes and he was ready. He let himself out into the hall, closing her door quietly behind him.
There was no way to call the elevator silently and no staircase in evidence, so he simply composed his soul in patience and hoped no one was awake and watching. Not that he was doing anything wrong. Just a midnight snack and a long conversation with his intended.
He exited the elevator and walked down the hall, passing windows that looked out onto the snow-lit night, trying to remember where he had seen the kitchen. He made two false starts, then found the right corridor.
The kitchen door swung both ways on well-greased hinges that made almost no noise as he entered the room. He stood for a moment, letting his eyes adjust to the darkness. There was no window in here, but there was something else.
Jim’s skin crawled as he realized he could hear someone breathing. He slid his hand along the wall beside the door, hunting for the light switch, then felt himself grabbed from behind.
There was a hand over his mouth and a strong male arm around his chest, pinning one arm down, but the other, the one that had been on the wall, was free. He used his elbow and drove it into the form behind him, hearing a satisfying ‘oof’ as a result. He broke free and turned rapidly, one hand finding and throwing the light switch, the other coming up, fist ready to continue the fight, and froze.
“Charlie!” he hissed.
“Jim!”
The two of them grinned like idiots at each other, then did the male equivalent of a hug, punching each other on the shoulder and shoving each other off balance.
“Where the hell have you been?” Jim demanded. “How did you get in? Why did you come in? Didn’t you get Ginny’s message? We’ve got to hide you.”
Charlie nodded. “I got the message. Got hungry, and cold, so I decided to slip in, look around, then out again. Those windows need better locks.”
“There might have been alarms.”
Again Charlie nodded. “I disconnected the wires. Made it look like the ice had done it. Didn’t want anyone interrupting my midnight snack.”
“That reminds me!” Jim looked around quickly, then grabbed a towel and started loading food into it. He shoved it at Charlie and started on a second load, including a glass of milk for Ginny.
“We can’t use the elevators. There are cameras in them.”
‘’This way.” Charlie indicated another corridor. “Stairs.”
The route was longer, and Jim couldn’t help noticing how difficult it was for Charlie to use his left leg, but they managed to get back to Ginny’s room without raising an alarm. Jim opened the door cautiously, slipped inside, then motioned for Charlie to follow him in. When Charlie was inside, Jim closed the door behind him and turned the lock. That sound triggered another.
“Good evening, Mr. Monroe.”
* * *
Saturday Wee Small Hours
Halifax Homestead
Jim almost dropped the food and he did spill the milk, his hand jerking and the liquid sloshing over the rim of the glass. He turned to face the voice and was not surprised to see a movement in the moonlight, followed by the table lamp being turned on.
If this had been a movie, the woman standing there would have had a gun in her hand and Ginny in a death grip, the muzzle to her temple. As it was, Detective Tran simply waited for the two men to recover.
Charlie did so first. He limped across the room and put down the food, then pulled up a chair and sat down.
Jim swallowed hard, then did the same, taking a moment to wipe the milk off his hand, and choosing to join Ginny on the side of the bed. He took her hand in his.
Detective Tran looked at each of them in turn, then sat down on the edge of the couch, her back straight, her ankles crossed, her expression unreadable.
“Would you care to explain?” she asked.
Ginny spoke first. “I thought you believed he was dead.”
Detective Tran nodded. “I did, until I heard a noise, looked out my window, and saw the signal. That flag was not there before your arrival. Dr. Mackenzie was inside the complex. The only person you could be signaling was Mr. Monroe.”
Ginny nodded, sighing. “It was a calculated risk.”
Detective Tran nodded. “That was quite a performance, Miss Forbes. May I ask how you accomplished it?”
Ginny caught Jim’s eye. “It turns out a leopard can change her spots, if the need is great enough.” He gave her hand a squeeze, then looked at Detective Tran.
“How did you know to come to Ginny’s room?”
“After I saw the signal and realized what it must mean, I decided to keep watch. I saw Mr. Monroe’s unorthodox entry into the building and was following him when you came down the hall. Once you had joined forces, I was pretty sure I knew where you would go.” She looked over at Ginny. “I persuaded Miss Forbes of the inevitability of the confrontation and suggested she might want to get it over with.”
Charlie sighed. “I’m the one you want. Let them go.”
Detective Tran turned her eyes on him. “You are hurt.”
He nodded.
“But you went over the side anyway.”
He nodded again.
“Why?”
Charlie shrugged. “I couldn’t save my own children, but I could try to save that boy.”
She nodded slowly. “Why did you run?”
“I’m an outlaw.”
Detective Tran’s brow furrowed. “You have not been charged with anything.”
“I have.”
“I do not understand.” She looked from Charlie to Ginny.
“You already know,” Ginny said, “that the Scots descend in part from the Vikings.”
Detective Tran nodded.
“You may also know the Viking justice system gave us the word for ‘law’, set up a jury of twelve men, and established the first parliament.”
“The Althing.”
Ginny nodded. “Among the concepts they came up with was a choice of punishments for those convicted of offenses. In the event of a death, as in this case, one could make monetary restitution to the injured party’s family. One could engage in a blood feud. Or one could be exiled—outlawed.”
Detective Tran looked over at Charlie.
Ginny continued. “The outlaw had to leave behind everything that was his—friends, job, family, all gone. Further, he lived under constant threat of being killed, lawfully, by anyone who went hunting for him. Sort of like the bounty hunter system we have now.”
Detective Tran raised an eyebrow. “Mr. Monroe was outlawed by your community.”
Ginny nodded. “Charlie was judged and convicted and sentenced under a system of laws that gave rise to the one you’ve sworn to uphold. He’s not escaping justice. He’ll suffer every day, for the rest of his life, for what he did.”
“And you, and Dr. Mackenzie?”
“We were assigned the task of throwing him out.”
Detective Tran was silent for a long moment. “You mentioned blood feuds.”
“It used to be that the injured party and the offender were allowed to work it out, blood for blood, but we don’t permit that any more. It was too easy for it to escalate to whole families, then whole communities. The solution was too costly.”
“Why did you chose this archaic system of justice, rather than turn him over to the police?”
Jim felt Ginny’s hand tighten within his. She took a deep breath. “The Texas criminal justice system released the man who killed Charlie’s family onto the streets of Dallas. Had it done its duty, there would have been no reason for him to act.”
“Why Canada? Mexico was closer.”
“We could not enforce the punishment without the help of the other Homesteads and there are none in Mexico.”
Detective Tran turned to Charlie. “Is what Miss Forbes says true?”
Charlie nodded. “All true.”
“Do you regret your actions?”
Jim held his breath and was sure Ginny was doing the same.
Charlie sighed. “Yes. I’ve had some time to think about it and I wish now I hadn’t done it. I wasn’t thinking clearly. It just hurt so bad. I wanted to make him hurt, too, but I settled for making sure he couldn’t kill anyone else.” He spread his hands. “I know that’s no excuse. I’m sorry for the trouble I’ve caused and I’m ready to take my punishment.”
The room fell silent.
Jim sat waiting for what Detective Tran would do next. She had them dead to rights. She knew, now, that Charlie was guilty of the murder back in Dallas, and that Jim and Ginny had been helping him escape.
She sat quietly watching them, her eyes moving from one to another, then back again, spending the most time on Charlie. Eventually she stood up. The other three followed her lead, Charlie moving slowly and in obvious pain. She looked at him for another long moment then turned to Ginny.
“Please make yourself available immediately after breakfast tomorrow to complete your statement. I must leave for the airport at ten o’clock.”
Ginny nodded.
Detective Tran looked at each of them one more time then let herself out, closing the door behind her.
* * *