“I can’t even imagine,” Serrano said.
“That’s why I went to the press conference,” Rachel said. “I figured the killer might enjoy seeing the havoc they created. Like Greene did. Turns out, the killer was there. Just not in the manner I expected.”
“And Daryl George will never set foot on carpeting again,” Serrano said.
“Did you know that six people took responsibility for Greene’s crimes?” Rachel said. “He had followers. Followers. People admired that demon. Greene’s lawyer presented two witnesses who owned the same camera as Greene. They claimed to have taken those photos and planted them at Greene’s house. Then one of the jurors leaked to the press. Between all that and the unlawful search, it was easy for the judge to declare a mistrial. And then Greene was gone. Every single day, for I don’t know how long, I waited for him to show up on our doorstep. Our home in Darien had been violated. So I brought my kids here, and we became different people. I became an angrier person. I was angry that the Harwood Greenes of the world could destroy lives and get away with it.”
“That’s why you got involved in Constance Wright’s murder.”
“Constance Wright was kind to me,” Rachel said. “That was enough reason to try to give her justice.”
“You should know,” Serrano said, “the city council voted unanimously to rename the Albertson Bridge the Constance Ella Wright Bridge.”
Rachel looked up, tears in her eyes. “Really?”
“She deserves to be remembered. Besides, Augustus Albertson was kind of a terrible racist. Lot of folks have been petitioning the council to rename that bridge for years. I guess once they found someone who deserved it, it was easy to push it through.”
“That makes me happy.”
“Me too. Know what else will make you happy?” Serrano said. “The carabinieri in Italy found Caroline Drummond.”
“You’re kidding.”
“Nope. She was shacked up with a widowed cheese maker in a villa in Pitigliano. She’s being extradited as we speak and should be stateside in about two weeks. And then she’ll stand trial with her brother.”
“I hope Constance knows all this, somehow,” Rachel said. “You know, I’ve been thinking. About doing more of this. Helping people.”
“It would be kind of a shame if your talents were confined to this basement,” Serrano said. “I can even speak to the new lieutenant. The force is perpetually understaffed. I’ll see if they could use an occasional consultant.”
Rachel beamed. “I could kiss you.”
Serrano motioned to the photo above the desk. “Not with him watching.”
“OK, let’s go upstairs. If these kids don’t get some sugar and butter into their bloodstreams soon, they might mutiny.”
“Just so you know,” Serrano said, as Rachel turned off the light, “I never thought you were involved in Constance Wright’s death. You might be a protector, Rachel. But you’re not a killer.”
Rachel smiled and moved closer to Serrano. She stood on her tiptoes and kissed him lightly on the lips.
When she finished, Serrano said, “But what about . . .”
“The lights were off,” she said. “Bradley didn’t see anything.”
They went upstairs to find Megan pulling Eric’s hair and walloping him with the remote control.
“Megan!” Rachel said. “Release your brother, or the next movie I let you watch will be the introductory video for college freshmen.”
Megan let her brother go and crossed her arms sullenly but with a smile underneath. Serrano took a seat on the couch, with Eric and Megan at either end. The children burrowed into the corners of the sofa. Eric grabbed a handful of popcorn and added a few M&M’S to it, then shoved the mixture into his mouth.
“Know what I have at home?” Serrano said to Eric. The boy shook his head, popcorn kernels spilling onto his shirt. “The Lord of the Rings extended editions on Blu-ray. Four hours each. Plus bonus features.”
“Shut up,” Eric said. He turned to his mother. “Mom, I’m going to live with Detective Serrano.”
She laughed and said, “I promise we’ll watch them one day. Just not in a row.”
Serrano patted the seat next to him. “Saved you a seat.”
Seeing the three of them together made her heart soar. She had no idea where things might go with John Serrano, but she was eager to find out.
“Just give me one second; I’ll be right back.”
“Hurry back,” Serrano said. “Movie’s starting.”
“I’ll be quick.”
Rachel went upstairs and into her bedroom. She shut the door gently, opened the closet, and entered the combination to the safe. She removed the cardboard box, slid off the rubber bands, and opened it.
Atop the pile was Reginald Bartek’s driver’s license. She flipped it over, read the inscription, then placed it back inside. Then she took a small plastic bag from underneath the various ID cards, unsealed it, and dropped a piece of jewelry into her palm.
She thought about what Serrano had said in the basement.
You might be a protector, Rachel. But you’re not a killer.
It was a men’s bracelet adorned with brownish-yellow Tiger Eye beads. She ran her fingers over the bracelet, thinking about the night she’d removed it from a lifeless wrist.
No more.
Then she gently placed the bracelet in the box, put it back in the safe, and went downstairs.
She nestled in next to John Serrano. She felt his fingers close around hers. Rachel smiled and leaned her head against his shoulder. And for the first time in a very, very long time, she felt at peace.