Chapter 32

Kris stopped pacing and just looked around the apartment. It didn't feel like home. He wondered if it ever had. There were personal objects scattered around. Some of them held meaning, but there were others that were just things. He hadn't missed them when he was gone. He'd missed knowing things about himself, but he hadn't missed any of his "stuff." He hadn't missed any people either.

He was missing people now, though. Missing Lulu and Ambrose was a given, but he also missed Jessica, Hank, and even Mitch. He missed seeing the men in the Early Girl putting their heads together, and dollar bills changing hands, as they made silly wagers on what might happen in the diner. He missed the peace and quiet of the radio station, where he could think clearly, without distraction. He missed the woods, even though he'd never paid that much attention to them when they were all around him.

He missed everything, he realized, about Pembroke, Connecticut.

He didn't think about it as an impulse. He didn't think of himself as an impulsive person. But he found himself throwing things into a suitcase. Clothes to last him a while ... the new laptop he'd bought to replace the one ruined by the river water ... the stuffed frog riding the little wooden motorcycle ... a handful of personal records, so he'd have addresses of businesses that would send him bills. It occurred to him that he hadn't even had the post office stop forwarding his mail to Pembroke. There'd be a pile of stuff waiting for him there. The rental was paid up for another month and a few days, and Rudy might let him extend that anyway. He could come back for more of his stuff later. It was only a few hours' drive.

Jefferson rubbed his eyes. He needed some eye drops, but didn't have any. He decided this was a good time to call Farmingham and tie up that loose end. He picked up the phone and dialed.

Kris closed and locked the door, carrying the last of the things he was taking with him down to the car. He was halfway down the staircase and wasn't aware that his phone was ringing, back in the apartment. He left the building, got in his car, and headed for I-95.

After ten rings, an answering machine picked up.

"This is you know who and I'm not you know where, so leave a you know what."

Jefferson hung up. He didn't leave messages.

"I don't understand!" said Chantal loudly. "You said you found him, but now you say you've lost him again?"

Jefferson wanted to groan. He'd called Harper, throwing the man a bone (and keeping the bureau out of it) by telling him that Farmingham was the man who had saved Chantal's life, and that he was free to reap the benefits of communicating that to the governor and his wife. He'd figured he'd be able to find Farmingham and interview him before Harper moved on things. Then Jefferson's boss, the Special Agent in Charge, had insisted that the bureau get its fair share of the credit and ordered Jefferson to be there when Harper delivered the good news.

Unfortunately, he'd done that before they'd found out from intel that signs of life in Farmingham's apartment had returned to zero.

"He was living in his apartment three days ago," said Jefferson. "I was wrapping up your case, getting it ready for the US Attorney, and thought his interview could wait. By the time we got there, he'd left. We thought he'd returned to New York for good."

"But you never talked to him," said Chantal, her voice low. "Let's just recap here, gentlemen," she said heavily. Harper wanted to sigh along with Jefferson. "This man was shot while disrupting the kidnapping. He was then involved in a terrible accident, obviously the result of the gunshot wound, and suffered amnesia, because he saved my life, and you never thought it was important enough to speak with him about that."

"We were trying to solve the case!" insisted Jefferson.

"An idiot could have solved the case!" she barked. "The case was solved when the high and mighty FBI swooped down and took it away from the men who serve my husband's constituents!" She held up one sculptured nail as Jefferson took a breath, to keep him from speaking. "I fully understand that your work, and that of Detective Harper here, uncovered the fact that these despicable animals killed two helpless children. I appreciate that fact and heartily applaud it. I'm even willing to concede that the three animals had no keeper and may have acted alone. But the fact remains that a man who suffered on my behalf doesn't even KNOW HE'S A FUCKING HERO!" She ended up screaming, then almost collapsed into the arms of her husband, who clucked at her and looked accusingly at the two lawmen.

"We'll find him," said Jefferson faintly.

The supermodel raised her face from her husband's shoulder just long enough to scream "YOU'D BETTER!"

Kris took his time driving, really paying attention to the scenery for the first time. There were still patches of snow all over the place, but the hint of spring was on the land. He hadn't realized how strung out he was until he got sleepy and pulled into a rest area to get out and walk around a little. He wasn't in a hurry, now that he was on his way, and the stop at the rest area turned into a nap that lasted long enough that it was dark when he woke up. He felt relaxed and at peace for the first time in a long time.

Driving into Pembroke was both less and more than he'd thought it would be. It was less, because everything looked exactly the same. It was almost as if he'd never left. It was more, because he found his heart pounding. It was almost ten, which meant Lulu would be getting ready for work and taking Ambrose to the sitter's. He wasn't sure how she'd react when she saw him again, but he was pretty sure that while she was intent on getting to work wasn't a good time to find out. He also thought about trying to find Mitch, but didn't know where to look, except for the police station. Now that he'd had time to think about how good his life in Pembroke might someday be, he wasn't so anxious to see the inside of a police station again, especially if he'd get locked up as soon as he walked in.

As he drove through town, he thought about the things he hadn't followed through on while he'd been in New York. He felt guilty that he hadn't followed through on his plan to tell Mitch that he'd left town and to turn himself in. He wanted to believe he'd failed to do those things because of everything that had happened to him. The alternative was that he was just indecisive. On the other hand, he was glad that he'd neglected to mail the key to the rental back to Rudy Chastain, because now he needed that key.

He drove straight to the rental. He acted just like he always had, parking in the driveway and turning lights on. He was pretty sure he'd burned his bridges with the radio station, so he didn't go there. Instead, he took his clothes in, opened up his laptop, and began writing.

Four hours later, he was nodding off again. He hadn't realized how much the stress had taken out of him. The only alarm he had was his watch, so he set it and lay down on the bed. He'd completely forgotten to bring the sheets Lulu had bought him.

The watch beeped and did, in fact, wake him up. He got up, brushed his teeth, stared into the mirror for a minute or two, and then went to the Early Girl. He had to face her, sooner or later.

The early birds had begun to filter in, and Lulu sighed as she realized her shift was almost over. It had been a slow night and slow nights weren't so good for her any more. She had time to think about Kris. And she had time to berate herself for trusting another man and feel sorry for herself. That always made her a little testy and, since she still thought about Kris a lot, she was testy a lot. Hank hadn't spoken more than ten or fifteen words to her all night.

Not that she just moped around, doing nothing. She completed her tasks, as usual. Her waitressing wasn't affected by it, other than the fact that she was a little less patient with the flirters. Oddly, she didn't take out her feelings about Kris on them. It wasn't their fault and she knew that.

It was just that life had returned to what it had been before Kris. She hadn't realized how drab that had been when she'd been living that life. Now, though, she did.

"Bathroom," she announced to Hank as she went toward the door.

"Remember to wash your hands," droned Hank, who always said that, because he thought it made a positive impression on the customers.

Kris saw her moving inside the diner as he parked. He drew a deep breath. His hands were shaking just a little. He forced himself to get out of the car and go into the diner. The smells made him feel like he was home, but he was still tense. He looked around, but she had vanished.

"Well I'll be," said Hank, staring at him.

"Hi Hank," said Kris.

"She's in the bathroom," said Hank. This was a situation Hank didn't know how to handle. Part of him wanted to tell the man to leave. Another part of him wanted to see what would happen if he stayed. Part of him cared about Lulu and knew she'd been hurt. Another part of him said it wasn't any of his business. She was a waitress and that was it. Part of him recognized that her behavior might mean he had to look for another waitress, and he really didn't want to do that. In the end, he simply said, "May as well have a seat."

"I'll take whatever you think is good this morning," said Kris.

"Everything is good all the time," said Hank, a little injured.

Several men sitting at one table waved at him. He didn't know if they knew he'd been gone or not. One of them pulled out a cell phone and punched some buttons. His eyes darted from the phone to Kris and back again several times. He spoke softly into the phone, but his attitude was tense and urgent.

Kris sat in a booth. For lack of anything else to do, he reviewed the menu.

Lulu came out of the bathroom, straightening her apron. She saw him and stopped. It was as if time had stopped, but just for a second or two, and then she was moving forward again. He didn't know what to say as she approached, so he just looked at her.

She walked on by him without a word.

He turned his head, watching her move away from him. He couldn't help but look at that beautiful behind, as her buttocks rose and fell under the uniform skirt. A feeling of complete helplessness washed over him and it was suddenly a chore to sit upright. He knew, at that moment, that he loved this woman more than anything or anyone he had ever loved before.

She picked up a coffee pot and started making the rounds at the far end of the diner. She didn't look at him, stopping to chat with the other customers as she warmed up cups of coffee. To the casual eye, her actions were just as normal as pie. He looked over at Hank, who had come out from the kitchen to see what happened, and who was staring her way too, frowning slightly. Then, as if he could smell that something was starting to burn, he turned and went back to his work.

A few minutes later, Hank put a plate in the window and rang the bell. "Pickup!" he yelled.

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