Hostage Zero

“Do I hear bitterness?” They were on Church Street now, heading downhill toward the water, taking in one of Jonathan’s favorite vistas. The low-hanging sun behind them bathed the marina in liquid gold.

“You mean about not getting credit?” Gail shook her head. “Not at all. In fact, I think I’m grateful. She was particularly gracious in praising Doug Kramer for saving Jeremy Schuler’s life by hiding him. She’s quite a lady.”

Jonathan gave a wry chuckle. “Maybe Doug will come to agree one day. He’s not keen on accepting credit for something he didn’t do.”

“It’s better than taking blame for something he didn’t do.”

Jonathan nodded. “He gets that. He’s just pissed that I put him in that position. As he has every right to be.”

As they neared the water, JoeDog got a new idea. She ran ahead of them, placed her stick in their path, and then poised herself downrange for the throw, her tail wagging hard enough to unbalance her hindquarters.

“Look at that face,” Gail said.

“She can be hard to ignore,” Jonathan confessed. He stooped and picked up the stick, then carried it for a while. “This makes her crazy,” he said. JoeDog nearly vibrated with anticipation, walking backward and then running forward for the pitch. When they finally reached the bottom of the hill, they turned right. Jonathan checked for cars, just in case, then heaved the sick as far as he could down the sidewalk. The dog became a black streak.

Gail turned her head and watched Jonathan as they walked.

“What?” he said. “Why are you staring at me?”

“I’m waiting for you to answer my question.”

“I didn’t know there was a question on the table.”

“I asked you how you were doing.”

“I answered that one. I said I was fine.”

Gail scowled. “ Fine is not an answer. That’s a dodge.”

“Oh, Lord,” he groaned. “Better people than you have tried to climb into my head, Gail. Do yourself a favor and don’t even try. Really, I’m fine. And I’m really fine because I’m really shallow.”

“So you would have us believe.”

Jonathan felt the leading edge of anger. Sometimes fine was all you had. Bad things happen; you live through them, and you adapt. Dwelling on them was as useless as trying to change the past.

“I was watching you while you were watching Jeremy Schuler’s reunion with his father.”

“Gail, don’t.” JoeDog returned with her stick, but sensed something on the first sniff. Instead of begging for another throw, she just carried it and fell in step on Jonathan’s other side.

“It wasn’t what you were hoping for it to be, was it?”

Jonathan wanted to show annoyance at the question, but Gail was right. Father Dom and Mama Alexander had been the front-row players for that drama, and Jonathan could feel the same pain radiating from them. On the strength of the evidence gathered with Gail’s help, Frank Schuler had been released from death row, and he’d made a beeline to Resurrection House to reunite with his son. All Frank wanted was to give his son a hug, and all Jeremy wanted was to hide. He hung on to Mama Alexander and begged to stay. Where everyone had been hoping for elation, it was a terribly sad reunion.

Jonathan explained his take: “You spend nine of your thirteen years thinking that your father killed your mother, and you’re waiting for the state to kill your father because of it. That’s a high hurdle to jump. In retrospect, I think we should have expected it. Dom’ll stay on top of it.”

He cleared his throat. “On a happier note, I hear that Evan Guinn’s reunion with his father went really well.”

“Witness protection is a hard life,” Gail said.

“No harder than the one he’s lived so far.”

Gail wasn’t so convinced. “Under these circumstances, it’s going to be a particular challenge. The marshals will make it easier for the first couple of years, but then there’s forever to follow.”

Jonathan shrugged. “I do worry about the other kid, Evan’s friend Charlie. Guinn agreed to let him join their family, but there’s a kid who’s got to have issues. I wish he could have come to RezHouse instead. Dom would have been good for him.”

“And what about all the fatalities?” Gail asked. “How are you with those?” It was the point she’d been aiming for from the beginning, and to Jonathan it felt like a cheap shot.

“Let it go, Gail.”

“I know that they wear on you, Dig. They have to.”

He glared. He was not going there.

“I’m not trying to tread where I’m not welcome, Dig. I care for you. Deeply. You can’t just swallow all of that. I know. Trust me, I know. I killed my share in this thing, too. But I didn’t have to deal with dead children.”

They’d arrived at the short flight of stairs that led to the walk to Gail’s house. “You can make it from here to your front door?” Jonathan asked.

Her shoulders sagged. “Dig, please don’t shut me out.”