Epilogue

(8)

Weeks later, when I could walk without crutches, I drove to the Warehouse to pack my stuff. Rudy had been taking care of my cat, but I had clothes and a lot of personal belongings in my quarters. I wanted to take it home, to close that chapter of my life.

The guards at the gate waved me through and saluted as I passed. Bunny met me at the staff door, but he could tell I wasn’t in the mood to talk, so he just held the door open for me.

I walked through the corridors of the Warehouse, past the labs where Hu and Bug worked. Past Jerry Spencer’s forensics lab. Past the office Church used when he was there. Past the conference room and firing range.

Rudy’s door was closed and I didn’t know if he’d already packed his things. We hadn’t talked about whether he was staying on or not.

I found my room and opened it with my key and lingered in the doorway.

I hadn’t been there since the morning after the last time Grace and I made love. Someone had straightened the bed, changed the sheets. Replaced the damaged lamp.

Inside I found two things. Against the wall was a stack of empty boxes along with packing tape and labels. Everything I would need to remove all traces of myself from this place. I was done with hunting evil. I was ruined, worn out, damaged beyond fixing. Rudy disagreed, but I was the one who could look inside and see only wreckage and no clear path left to take.

The second item was on the bed. A file folder.

I opened it. Inside was a surveillance photo of a tall man with an austere face. Behind him was a sign advertising a tour of the Riviera dei Fiori. The River of Flowers. A tourist spot on the Italian Riviera. Someone had used a Sharpie to draw a black circle around the man’s face. Next to it was written: “Two days ago.”

I lifted the picture. Beneath it in the folder were my passport, plane tickets, a credit card with my name on it, and other useful documents.

The man in the picture was Conrad Veder.

I sat down on the edge of the bed. I held the photo in both hands and stared into the face of the man who had murdered Grace Courtland. Then I looked at the stack of empty boxes.

Church had left the decision up to me, though he’d given me everything I needed no matter which path I chose.

The End

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LRS to LRF parser v.0.9; Mikhail Sharonov, 2006; msh-tools.com/ebook/