he said. “Any battle all your people live through is a mighty fine fight.”
Dr. Zeigler made a slow circle around the room once more, checking on all of us to assure himself we were patched up. He lingered over Teag, checking the IV lines and Teag’s vital signs, then looked to Anthony and Sorren. “I’ll be back in the morning to check on him. He’ll be fine for tonight.” He gave the rest of us a nod and let himself out. Zeigler’s a good guy. Not only does he make house calls, but he knows his way around supernatural injuries, and manages to keep everything off the authorities’ radar. I assume Sorren pays him a hefty retainer.
Archibald Donnelly picked up his pith helmet from the table. “He doesn’t need my help anymore,” Donnelly said with a nod toward Teag. “Bloody fine show we put on tonight,” he said, clapping Sorren on the shoulder. “Always happy to lend a hand.” He gave Sorren a broad wink. “And thanks for that painting. I’ll make sure it gets exactly the spot it deserves.”
Chuck and Daniel insisted on keeping watch on the porch, and I wasn’t going to stop them. The others made their goodbyes and straggled out, until only Sorren, Maggie, Teag, Anthony, and I were left.
“Is my room ready?” Sorren asked with a hint of dry humor. There’s an old, windowless root cellar in the basement where I keep a futon for him in case of emergencies.
I nodded. “Get some sleep. We’ll keep an eye on Teag.”
Maggie was managing without her crutches, but she had pushed herself enough that her limp was obvious. “You were a trooper,” I said. “Thank you.”
Maggie shrugged. “What are friends for? I’m glad everyone’s all right.” She leaned down to scratch Baxter’s ears. “But I’m dog tired.”
I jerked my head toward the guest bedroom. “Go ahead. I’m going to turn in soon.” Once Maggie headed down the hallway, I went to the linen closet and brought out a pillow and sleeping bag for Anthony.
“Figured you might as well be comfortable, since I didn’t think you’d leave the room,” I said.
Anthony took the bedding appreciatively. “Thanks, Cassidy. Sorry I was such an ass.”
“We threw a lot at you all at once,” I said. “And you were worried.” I shrugged, then winced as the movement hurt. More than anything, I just wanted to get cleaned up and fall into bed. Dr. Zeigler had given me some painkillers, and with Chuck and Daniel on guard duty, I thought I’d break down and take the pills to get a good night’s sleep.
Anthony glanced over at Teag, who was still sedated and sleeping. “Panicked is more like it. Thanks for taking care of him. You really think he’ll be okay?”
“You heard the doctor. He needs to rest, but he should be fine after all the stitches heal up,” I replied. “Now, I’ve got to get some sleep.” And with that, I tucked Baxter under my arm and headed for bed.
TWO WEEKS LATER, Teag, Father Anne, and I stood in Magnolia Cemetery. The sun was just setting over the marshland behind the graveyard. Technically, the memorial park was closed, but Father Anne and Sorren had pull with the administrator, so for once we didn’t have to worry about being caught and thrown out after hours.
Sorren joined us just as the sun dipped below the horizon. “They did a nice job with the headstone,” I said as he walked up.
The dark granite stone was unpretentious, but I knew a memorial of that size had cost plenty, as had the lot beneath the spreading branches of an old live oak. Mrs. Butler’s remains had never been recovered from the wreckage of Palmetto Meadows, so there was no body, and since she had no living relatives, no funeral was held. That’s why Sorren had asked us here, for a private memorial.
The stone read ‘Helen Wadsworth Butler’ with her birth and death dates, along with a carved heart, a dove, and the words ‘Forever remembered.’ Most of the time, that kind of epitaph is an overstatement, but for Sorren, it would be very true.
“Am I late?” Archibald Donnelly strode across the well-trimmed lawn, managing to avoid the gravestones though the cemetery was not lit for night visitors.
“Right on time, Archie,” Sorren said. Donnelly was wearing a well-tailored suit, though the cut looked about a century out of date. He came up to stand with us, and read the inscription.
“Can’t tell you how sorry I am about this,