Grave Secret Page 0,56

operative of some kind. I was sure that was his intent. The man was a chameleon.

"My brother had been shot two nights before," I explained, trying to pick my words carefully. "And Detective Powers came to the scene then. He and Rudy Flemmons. Detective Flemmons came to see me at my brother's room in the hospital the next day to give me some information, and then last night, when I went back to my hotel, your husband was there. When I told him I was going for a run, since I'd been cooped up with my brother in his hospital room all day, he said he'd run with me, since he wasn't convinced the shooter had actually meant to hit my brother." There was definitely no point in mentioning Powers's avid eyes. "He thought the person who shot Tolliver might have been aiming for me, and someone had called in a death threat for me that day. I guess neither one of us took that seriously enough, which was our big mistake-and for that, I'm so sorry. My only excuse is that I've gotten threats before, and they were always nothing. Your husband said he had his running clothes in his trunk, and he changed in his car, and we started out running. He got winded pretty quick-excuse me, he just hadn't run in a long time, I guess." To my surprise, my audience had relaxed considerably while I was telling Beverly Powers how her husband had come to be shot, and when I described how winded he'd gotten, a few people actually laughed, and a smile flickered across Beverly Powers's face.

I suddenly understood: Mrs. Powers and Parker's fellow officers had thought I'd been having an affair with him. My no-frills explanation had dispelled that suspicion. They weren't really amused; they were relieved.

"We were running up and down the aisles of that big bus depot across from the high school on Jacaranda." I saw some nods out of the corner of my eye. "We heard a car come into the lot, and Detective Powers and I both thought it was after us, but then it sped away. We decided we better go back to the hotel, and we were walking on the street going back. This guy jumped out from behind some bushes and fired. I don't know if he was trying to hit me or your husband, but Detective Powers shoved me aside real quick. That meant he caught the bullets. I'm really sorry. He was so brave, and I feel awful about him getting hurt so badly. I called 911 as soon as I could."

"That saved his life," Beverly said. Her face was round and sweet, but her eyes were another matter. Whatever sport she'd played, this woman had been a ferocious competitor.

I was profoundly glad I hadn't been having an affair with her husband.

"Please, come see him," Beverly said.

"Is he conscious?"

"No," she said, and I understood by the way she said that one word that there was a good chance Detective Powers would never be conscious again.

Taking my hand, the tall woman led me to a glass-walled room, and I looked at her husband. He looked awful, and he was out of it. I didn't know if it was the medication, or if he was in a deep sleep, or if he was maybe in a coma.

"I'm sorry," I said. He was going to die. I'm not always right-death can hang over people like a shadow without ever descending-but with Detective Powers, I was pretty sure. I hoped I was wrong.

"Thanks for giving me a little longer with him," she said. We stood for a moment in silence.

"I've got to get back to my brother," I said. "I appreciate your talking to me, and letting me see him. Please tell him thanks for what he did for me."

I patted Beverly 's shoulder in an awkward way and eased my way through the crowd over to Manfred, who took my hand and pressed the elevator button. The door opened immediately, and we stepped into an empty elevator. I was praying for the doors to shut out the painful scene.

"I'm glad you came with me," I said. "That must have been pretty nerve-wracking for you."

"Oh, no, I love going into a pen of lions wearing a sign that says Edible Lamb." Now that we were alone, Manfred's bland mask relaxed into a face that was just as relieved as mine must have been.

Our hands were gripping so tightly that