‘Just don’t tell anyone you’ve heard from me. I’ll explain all this later. Listen, Mom, some big, tough-looking dudes are going to come around soon. They’ll say they’re with the FBI or somesuch, but they’ll be lying. You just play dumb. Be nice as pie with them, pretend to be worried sick about me, but don’t give them a clue.’
‘Well, I’m just a one-eyed, two-cane, poor-as-dirt, ignorant, big-assed simpleton, after all. Who could expect me to know anything about anything?’
‘Love you to pieces, Mom. One more thing. I’m sure your phone isn’t tapped already, but eventually they might find a way. So when I come to see you, I won’t call first.’
‘Baby girl, I’m scared like I haven’t had to be scared since your hateful father was good enough to get himself shot dead.’
‘Don’t be scared, Mom. I’ll be all right. And so will you. You’re in for some surprises.’
‘Father Francorelli is here with me. He wants to talk to you. He’s all excited about what happened at the wedding. Jilly girl, what happened at the wedding? I mean, I know, sure, I been told, but none of it makes a lick of sense.’
‘I don’t want to talk to Father Francorelli, Mom. Just tell him I’m so sorry I ruined the ceremony.’
‘Ruined? You saved them. You saved them all.’
‘Well, I could have been more discreet about it. Hey, Mom, when we get together in a couple weeks, would you like to have dinner in Paris?’
‘Paris, France? What in the world would I eat in Paris?’
‘Or maybe Rome? Or Venice? Or Hong Kong?’
‘Baby girl, I know you wouldn’t do drugs in a million years, but you got me worried now.’
Jilly laughed. ‘How about Venice? Some five-star restaurant. I know you like Italian food.’
‘I do have a passion for lasagne. How are you going to afford five stars, let alone in Venice, Italy?’
‘You just wait and see. And Mom…’
‘What is it, child?’
‘I wouldn’t have been able to save my own ass, not to mention all those people, if I hadn’t grown up with you to show me how not to let the fear eat me alive.’
‘God bless you, baby girl. I love you so much.’
When Jilly hung up, she took a moment to recover her composure. Then she used a ransom of quarters to place a long-distance call to a number that Dylan had given her. A woman answered the first ring, and Jilly said, ‘I’d like to speak to Vonetta Beesley, please.’
‘You’re speakin’ to her. What can I do you for?’
‘Dylan O’Conner asked me to call and make sure you’re okay.’
‘What could anyone do to me that Nature won’t eventually do worse? You tell Dylan I’m fine. And it’s good to know he’s alive. He’s not hurt?’
‘Not a scratch.’
‘And little Shep?’
‘He’s standing in a corner right now, but he had a nice piece of cake earlier, and he’ll be fine by dinner.’
‘He’s a love.’
‘That he is,’ Jilly said. ‘And Dylan wanted me to tell you they won’t be needing a housekeeper anymore.’
‘From what I hear happened up at their place, you couldn’t clean it up with anything less than a bulldozer, anyway. Tell me something, doll. You think you can take good care of them?’
‘I think so,’ Jilly said.
‘They deserve good care.’
‘They do,’ she agreed.
Finished with the second call, she would have liked to erupt from the phone booth in cape and tights, leaping into flight with great drama. She didn’t have a cape and tights, of course, and she couldn’t actually fly. Instead, she looked both ways to be sure the pay-phone hallway was deserted, and then without trumpets, without flourishes, she folded herself to the deck overlooking the lake, where Dylan waited in the last of the Tahoe twilight.
The moon had risen long before the late summer sunset. In the west, the night kissed the last rouge off the cheek of the day, and in the east the full moon hung high, the lamp of romance.
Precisely at nightfall, Ling reappeared to lead them, and Shep, down through previously unseen passages and chambers, and finally out of the house to the dock. The ordinary dock lights had been turned off. The path was charmingly illuminated by a series of tapered candles floating in midair, eight feet above the planking.