Edward Holland was standing next to me. “My God…,” he said, which pretty much summed it up.

Alex Hutchinson came up and asked, “Is it over?”

I nodded. “I think so, but there’s no way to know for certain. Make sure nobody goes back there.”

“That won’t be a problem,” she said, and started walking towards the crowd. She stopped, turned, and said, “Thank you.” Then she went and started comforting people, trying to calm them. The police were doing that as well, and Holland joined in.

People started leaving, though I assume their cars were destroyed in the blast. In thirty seconds Brayton had become a community of pedestrians.

Emmit and I waited for the bomb squad to arrive, and we told them what we knew, basically the type of explosives that had been used and the fact that they were detonated by timers. Remote detonation seemed unlikely, since Rhodes was no longer around to have done so.

When we got in the car, Emmit said, “I guess you were right.”

I shrugged. “It happens.”

I called Julie at the hospital, and asked her how Bryan was doing.

“He’s drifting in and out of consciousness; at least that’s what they’re calling it,” she said. “I prefer to think of it as sleep. They said it will last awhile.”

“Does he know you’re there?”

“I don’t think so.”

“What about the prognosis?” I asked.

“Too soon to know. But the first forty-eight hours are key; at least that’s what they’re telling me.”

“You going back to the hotel?”

“I think so,” she said. “The nurse promised she’d call me if he wakes up, and it’s only ten minutes away. What about you?”

“I’m staying there until Bryan is Bryan,” I said.

“Me too,” she said. “How did it go in Brayton?”

“I assume you haven’t been near a television?”

“No, I’ve been in Bryan’s room.”

“It was fairly eventful,” I said. “Turn on the TV when you get back to the room.”

I saw Emmit smiling at my characterization of the evening.

“What channel?” she asked.

“Trust me, it won’t matter.”

We made plans to meet for an early breakfast the next morning at the hotel. We’d go to the hospital together from there.

I got off the phone and Emmit said, “I’m going to head home tonight. I want to see Cindy.”

“Emmit, there’s nothing I can ever say to you that-”

He interrupted me. “Man, I haven’t had this much fun in a long time.”

I laughed. “Glad I was able to cheer you up.”

As we were getting back to the hotel, Emmit asked, “Who do you think was behind it?”

He was referring to the massive explosions; we both knew that Rhodes was paid help.

“I think I’ll let the Feds worry about that,” I said. “It’s been a pretty long day.”

I got back to my room and got undressed. When I emptied my pockets, I saw that there had been an e-mail on my BlackBerry that I never opened. It was from Bryan, and it said:

Good-bye, Lucas … take care of Julie.

I love you both.

And then I did something that I hadn’t done in many years, probably not since Bryan and I were in grammar school.

I cried.

My cell phone rang seventeen times during the night.

After the third call, I kept it in bed with me, so I could check the call waiting. I didn’t answer any; they all seemed to be Manhattan numbers, and I assumed they were trying to get me to do interviews on the events in Brayton. I was only going to answer if it were Julie or Bryan calling, but that didn’t happen.

I woke up, showered, and was five minutes away from going to meet Julie when she called. “He’s coming out of it,” she said.

“I’ll be right down.”

We drove to the hospital, and that made for probably the only time I’ve felt things were awkward between Julie and me. I didn’t know what she was going to do regarding her marriage, and I wasn’t about to ask her. I’m not even sure that she knew.

The truth was that I didn’t even know what I wanted her to do. I loved her, and I wanted to be with her. I had been denying that to myself for way too long. But I also wanted Bryan to have whatever it was that Bryan wanted.

I decided not to show Bryan’s last e-mail to Julie. He asked me to take care of Julie when he thought he wasn’t going to be around. Now that he was alive and hopefully well, he’d probably feel differently.

I figured it was too much to hope that Bryan met a great woman in the bomb shelter and they were engaged.

We got to the hallway outside his room, and a nurse greeted us with, “Doctor should be here soon, but he’s doing very, very well.”

At the door, Julie and I looked at each other before going in. I said, “One at a time?” She shook her head and said, “No. Together.”

I was shocked at how good Bryan looked. More important, he was alert and smiled when we walked in. It’s amazing what access to oxygen can do for somebody.

Julie went to him and hugged him, delicately because he still had tubes attached. She laid her head on his chest and kept it there for a while; she might have been crying, but I couldn’t tell for sure.

“Hey, babe,” he said, softly.

She lifted her head, and dried her eyes. She laughed a short laugh, and said, “Hey.”

I walked over and put my hand on his shoulder. “You made it,” he said. His speech seemed a little off but not too bad.

I nodded. “Thanks for hanging in there.”

“I knew you’d make it. But I knew you’d be a pain in the ass and wait until the last minute.”

“Hey, I’ve got a lot on my plate. I had to fit you in.”

He smiled. “I’m going to want you to tell me everything that happened, OK?”

“I will,” I said. “Now I’m going to leave you guys alone; I’ll be outside.”

It was about forty-five minutes later that Julie came out. I stood up, and she came over and put her head against my shoulder, and hugged me. As always, I didn’t have the slightest idea what she was thinking, or what she was going to say.

“Bryan and I are going to try and make it work,” she said.

I didn’t know how to answer that, so I said nothing.

I’d been saying nothing for a really long time, so I was used to it.

If I had to be doing interviews, I’d have preferred the Todayshow.

Instead, I had two Federal agents at my office when I got in. They had more hair than Matt Lauer but not nearly as much personality.

They were investigating the violence in Brayton. Edward Holland had been calling for Federal or state intervention for days, but it apparently took blowing up half the state to make it happen.

I was a key to their investigation, because I had been the one who realized what might happen that night. It was fairly easy for them to know that, since TV cameras had been at the site and captured everything.

The speeches of both Holland and Alex Hutchinson before the explosion had been playing in what seemed like an endless loop on television, and I had my share of airtime as well. I’m sure that both Holland and Alex were being subjected to the same type of interrogation as I was.

I had no reason to hide anything from them, until I came to a realization midway through. While they were investigating the explosion and murders in Brayton, they had not tied it in to Judge Brennan’s murder. They still thought that was solved, and that Steven was guilty.

I’m not sure why I didn’t enlighten them; I probably would have if they asked directly. It could be that I was paying back Barone for all he had done for me; I knew that Barone would want a head start in a reopened Brennan investigation, and I was giving him that. I also knew that Barone would want to manage how the information got out to the public that I shot the wrong guy.

I also realized in the moment that I had been through so much that I wanted a shot to get to the bottom of it myself. Bryan went through his terrible ordeal, Emmit was shot, and Chris Gallagher was killed. I wanted to find out who was responsible for all that, and I wanted to do one other thing.