Charles surveyed the spread of paperwork in front of Riker. “Is this all of it?”

“The whole case.” Riker picked up a small stack of blue papers, each bearing the letterhead of the hospital laboratory. “One of these has to be a copy of Alma’s blue letter.” They were all addressed to Dr. Cass Shelley in her adjunctive role as the St. Jude Parish health officer. “Along with Jimmy’s confession and everything Mallory got from the computers, it’s enough for a grand jury to indict the whole pack.”

Riker bundled all the paperwork together in one pile. “I’d say it’s a wrap.” He looked down at the sleeping Jimmy Simms, and then to Charles. “Did you ever have one of those days when you just didn’t know where to put your hate?” Now he realized he was talking to the wrong person. He turned back to the stove where Augusta was stirring her pots, and she said, “Amen to that.”

He ran one hand through his graying hair. So tired. “Charles, why don’t you go back to Henry’s and get the car out of hiding? I’ll walk Jimmy over in a few minutes. I don’t want anybody to see the state’s star witness until he’s in lockup.”

“Now don’t you run him off yet.” Augusta put a mug of coffee in front of Charles. It was followed by plate after plate of foods, cooked and cold.

Riker, a coffee-and-toast man, was horrified. But eventually he was seduced by Augusta. She coaxed him with the aroma of hash browns, and she spoon-fed him tastes of batter cakes running with cane syrup.

Then, when he was stuffed and couldn’t eat another bite – just for fun she buttered a warm biscuit under his nose, and he was letting out his belt and reaching for another.

Throughout the meal – the damn orgy of breakfast – Riker could see that Charles wanted to say something, but the man was silent until Augusta had finished her coffee and left the room with a sack of birdseed for the feeders. He was not accustomed to seeing suspicion in Charles Butler, but there it was. Charles was listening to Augusta’s footsteps in the hall and the close of the front door. Now what could the old lady have done to deserve this?

“Do you have to turn Jimmy over to the sheriff?” Charles’s voice was low and conspiratorial.

Another odd note.

Riker lit a cigarette and paused a moment, waiting for the nicotine to kick in. “You got a problem with that? Is there something I should know?”

“Well, Mallory put this case together very quickly, didn’t she? And the sheriff had seventeen years.”

Oh, great. Everybody wants to be a detective.

“Okay, Charles. You figure the sheriff had something to hide?”

“It’s a reasonable conclusion, given that – ”

“This is Mallory’s work.” Riker stretched and yawned. “You’ve got acolyte fever – I know the signs.”

So Mallory had finally infected Charles. This was serious damage. He preferred the old Charles Butler, a very nice man, who genuinely liked people and suspected the best of them. Not the makings of a good cop, but a first-rate human being.

Damn Mallory.

“I’m using straightforward logic,” said Charles, somewhat defensively. “She has nothing to do with this.”

Riker rested one hand on the thick pile of paperwork. “The kid didn’t do all of this in a day. She’s been hacking into classified computers for months, chasing down leads without warrants, circumventing the Constitution of the United States, and lying like a maniac.”

He pulled out the blue sheets. “These reports on the lab work? She stole them during illegal trespass and destruction of state property. Oh, and she was there the day her mother went down. I’d say she had an edge, a little bit more to work with than the sheriff had.”

“But Jessop actually knew who some of those people were.”

“He suspected them. Big difference. He couldn’t have sweated a confession from one of those bastards – not the way I did it. He could never suck up to vermin. The man just wasn’t made that way. And you’ve gotta be real convincing to make the scum love you.”

“He could have gone after them and – ”

“He wore them down the best way he could. Without evidence, he couldn’t make one solid arrest. If he’d brought in a suspect, the rest of them would’ve scattered. It’s a toy town, Charles. Jessop doesn’t have the resources to track down out-of-state runners.”

God, are you listening? Save me from the amateurs.

“He tracked down Babe Laurie’s widow,” said Charles. “He had her extradited from another state.”

“Yeah, but he got no help, zero cooperation. I saw the paperwork. Those Georgia politicos jerked him around six ways from Sunday. If Sally Laurie hadn’t waived her rights, it could’ve taken another six months.”

“Other police officers do it. They cooperate with – ”

“The feds? According to my source, Tom Jessop won’t play nice with the FBI – flat out refuses to spy on his neighbors. Can you imagine that? I got twenty bucks says the feds leaned on the Georgia boys to slow the man down.”

Now Charles seemed a little off balance. “But what about Babe Laurie? Everyone assumes he was lying in wait for Mallory. Don’t you find it – ”

“And you think the sheriff had a hand in that? Screw Babe Laurie.”

And now, time for a little therapy, my old friend.

“If you’re on Mallory’s side, everyone else is the enemy. I know you bought into that, and look what it’s done to you. You can’t recognize an honest man anymore.” Riker stubbed out his cigarette. “You’re a blind man now. That’s what it cost you to stand by Mallory.”

He was lying of course. The truth was less flattering. The blinding of Charles Butler was the damage just for getting in Mallory’s way. She had succeeded where Riker had failed in his own attempt to maim this man.

“The only criminal thing about Jessop is that he never got over Cass Shelley’s death. He just couldn’t get past it.” Riker watched his cigarette smoke curl up to the ceiling. “Poor bastard. And you thought he could’ve been part of a murder? Maybe a cover-up? You suspect Augusta of something, too, don’t you? Who’s next? Henry?”

Charles’s lips parted, but nothing came out. Mallory had rendered him sightless, and Riker had struck the man dumb. But he was not done yet.

“Here’s the real kicker, Charles. Even Mallory – who trusts nobody – Mallory would tell you this idea of yours is bullshit. How do I know that?” He leaned forward for the last shot. “It might take her more time than most, but even that amoral brat can recognize an honest man, and God knows she’s no Diogenes.”

Charles sank down in the chair, deflated and defeated.

And now Riker believed there might be a future in the miracle business, for lo and behold, the blind man could see once more.

Praise the Lord.

Ah, but wait – there was a downside to this healing trade. The sad giant was seeing too clearly now.

“It worked out for the best, Charles. You stood by her, and now the kid finally gets a little justice for her mother. That must be some consolation.”

But the big man was unconsoled.

“What do you want, Charles? You want absolution? Well, you got it.” Riker waved his cigarette to make the sign of the cross in the air.

Jane was standing at the cafe window when the silver Mercedes pulled up in front of the sheriff’s office. The two men from New York City were helping somebody out of the backseat. Was it a man or a boy? He had a jacket pulled up over his head – just like the celebrity murderers on the evening news.

The cashier, Charmaine, joined her at the window in a cloud of cheap knockoff perfume. “Well, who is that?”

Jane shook her head, wishing Charmaine would go away. She turned to the empty porch of the bed and breakfast. Betty would probably be in the cemetery with her little troop of tourists by now. So this event belonged to Jane alone.