Midnight Crossroad

36

Fiji and Manfred and Bobo walked back to their homes together, in a cluster, with Bobo and Manfred supporting Fiji. She was not crying, but she was clearly very shocked, if not in shock.

“Was that justice?” she said. She sounded as though she honestly wanted to know.

“More justice than he gave Aubrey,” Bobo responded.

“But isn’t that what separates us from . . . I don’t know . . . barbarians?” Manfred said. He was deeply troubled, and he didn’t know how to turn off the memory of Connor’s neck snapping.

“Barbarians.” Fiji laughed. The thin sound floated up through the cold air. Tonight felt like winter, and Manfred shivered. He’d come out without a jacket, as they all had. “I guess we are. That was justice. He couldn’t be cured.”

“You don’t know that,” Manfred began, only to be cut off by Bobo.

“Don’t try to defend him, not now, not in front of me.”

“Sorry,” Manfred muttered, glad they’d reached the pawnshop entrance. “Well, I’ll walk Fiji home. You going to be okay? You need me to do anything for you?”

“I’ll be better by myself,” Bobo said. “Thank you, Manfred.” He forced himself to look Manfred in the eyes. “This is a lot for a newcomer to absorb.”

“Yeah, well. Okay, we’re off.” He steered Fiji across the road, with their usual careful look both ways. “I don’t know why we always do that,” he said.

“Because the time you don’t look is the time you’ll get flattened by a truck,” she said, and he could feel her shudder.

“Fiji, I can’t even think how I feel about what we just saw,” he said.

“You don’t need to know right now how you felt about it or how you’re going to change as a result of having seen it,” she said. She shuddered again. “It’s a good thing that everything’s settled.”

“What about the sheriff? Do you think he knows about Connor’s past?”

“He shouldn’t, because Connor was a juvenile when he killed that Mrs. Ames, so he shouldn’t be able to find out. Right?”

“If he does suspect Connor, what’s he going to do when he finds out Connor is dead?”

“He’s not going to know that.” Fiji sounded a bit astonished at the notion.

“Why not?”

“His dad’s not going to tell anyone what happened, for Creek’s sake,” she explained. “Did you see Creek’s face? She was glad Connor was dead. Of course, she’ll have a hard time, but she could see the truth of what Olivia said, and she was so angry with him for so many things.”

“But the sheriff will want to know where Connor is.”

“Yeah, he will. But kids Connor’s age run away all the time. And he may read a confession into Connor’s absence. Which, after all, is accurate.”

“We didn’t help the Lovells . . . do anything.” With the body, he meant.

“Joe and Chuy stayed. Do you really think they’d want our help?”

They’d reached Fiji’s front door. Mr. Snuggly was there. He looked up at Fiji reproachfully. “Kept me waiting,” he said.

“You could have gone around the house and gone in the cat flap at the back,” Fiji pointed out. “Tonight, Connor died.”

“Good,” said Mr. Snuggly. “I was tired of hiding from him.”

“He tried to catch you?”

“Yes. He liked to kill things, you know.” By then Fiji had opened the door, and the cat padded in.

“Well,” she was saying as she closed the door behind her, “you could have told me.”