The OR’s double doors open behind me, but I do not turn. A nurse gently suggests that I rejoin my friend outside.

I ask her to leave.

Perhaps I was not as polite as I should have been, for I hear voices just outside the door. Some male, others female. Someone is talking about shock, suggesting I might need to be seen by a doctor.

Shock.

Am I in shock?

“Penn?” says a hesitant voice from behind me. “It’s Carl. Can I talk to you?”

“Talk,” I say without turning.

Carl walks slowly up beside me.

“I’m sorry we couldn’t save her, man. I did everything I could.”

“I know you did.”

“I think I broke her ribs, doing CPR. I’m so sorry about that.”

“That means you did it right.”

“You don’t—” Carl’s voice catches, and he has to pause to regain his composure. “You don’t think I made her worse, do you? That pericardial thing?”

In truth, he probably did, but nobody could have wanted Caitlin to live more than Carl Sims in those moments. “She wasn’t going to make it, man. You did all you could.”

Carl sobs once, then wipes his nose on his sleeve. “You heard what that doctor said? Your daddy tried hard to save her. And Caitlin did all she could to save herself. She did shit even a combat soldier might not do.”

My throat constricts painfully, cutting off a single wracking sob.

“Your daddy’s awake now, they said. Down in the ER. He went into sugar shock. A few more minutes and he would have been dead.”

I grunt but say nothing.

“I didn’t tell them who he was, but that trauma doctor knows. And I mean . . . he’s still a fugitive. You better think about how you want to handle that. State police could show up any time.”

“It doesn’t matter now.”

“Well . . . I just thought I should tell you. They’re getting kind of antsy out there. The hospital folks.”

“It doesn’t matter, Carl.”

The deputy makes a sad sound deep in his throat. “Look now, Sheriff Ellis ordered me and Danny back to Athens Point. We told him you didn’t have a ride back, but he said you weren’t our problem, that we had a job to do out in the swamp. But then I got a call from Agent Kaiser. Kaiser said we weren’t to leave this hospital without you on board, and he would take care of the sheriff. And I guess he did, ’cause the sheriff ain’t called back once.”

I nod but don’t take my eyes from Caitlin’s placid face.

“Penn,” Carl says, stepping closer to the table, then turning to look up at me. “I never got a chance to ask you. Why’d she go back out there, man? She didn’t say nothing to me about it, I swear. Did she tell you she was going back?”

“No.”

“Lord, I just can’t believe it. I feel for you, brother. I know that don’t mean nothing right now. You just tell me and Danny what you want us to do, and we’ll do it. I don’t care what it is.”

“I want to take her back to Natchez.”

Carl says nothing for a few seconds. Then he says, “I don’t figure the local law would look too lenient on that. But if that’s what you want . . . then say the word. We’ll put her on a gurney and roll her down to the chopper and fly her back home.”

As insane as this would be, it’s what I want. Though Natchez was never really Caitlin’s home, taking her back would spare her the impersonal butchering that awaits her here—at least for a little while. Her father and mother might be able to see her as she is now, tranquil and relatively whole.

“I’m afraid you can’t do that,” says a deep voice from behind us.

I turn. Behind us stands a man in his sixties, wearing the uniform of the Louisiana State Police. The sight of that uniform sends me into a rage. Blood pounds in my ears, and I surge toward the stranger, but Carl hooks his muscular arms beneath mine and locks his hands behind my neck.

“Easy, Penn! Easy now! Listen to what the man’s saying.”

“He’s one of Knox’s people!”

The newcomer holds up both hands and shakes his head. Then he steps closer, apparently confident that Carl can restrain me. The old trooper’s eyes look more sad than angry or gloating, and his voice communicates empathy when he speaks.

“Mayor Cage, my name is Griffith Mackiever. I understand why you’re angry, so I’m going to tell you something that’s not to leave this room. A long time ago, I used to be a Texas Ranger. And I’ve been in contact with Captain Walt Garrity for the past two days. I’m also in contact with Sheriff Walker Dennis. We’re all trying to work together to handle the shitstorm that Forrest Knox and his people have unleashed in this state. Forrest does work for my agency, yes, but I’ve been investigating him for some time, and I am most assuredly not one of his people. In fact, he’s trying to destroy me as we speak.”

Mackiever pauses, as if to ensure that what he’s saying is sinking in. Apparently satisfied, he continues. “This is a tragic thing that’s happened, and it’s not the only murder of the day.”

His words are registering about the same emotional response as if he’d told me a dump truck ran over an armadillo on the highway.

“I’m still trying to ascertain what happened out in the swamp,” Mackiever goes on, “and I’d like to speak to you for a few minutes before the media descends on this hospital. If you’re up to it, that is. Now, obviously Ms. Masters is going to have to remain here for the time being. There’ll have to be a postmortem, as you know.”

“She died in Mississippi,” I say flatly. “They can do the autopsy there.”

Mackiever gives Carl a worried look, as though he’s uncertain of my sanity. “She was declared dead in Louisiana, Mr. Cage. That puts the autopsy here.”

I say nothing.

“I think you can let the mayor go, Officer,” Mackiever tells Carl.

“You okay?” Carl murmurs in my ear.

“Yeah.”

Carl lets me go, and my hands tingle and ache as the blood flows back into them.

“The FBI is about to pour massive resources into Lusahatcha County,” Mackiever informs us. “Agent Kaiser has already dispatched Bureau choppers from New Orleans to secure that Bone Tree and whatever was inside it. Apparently your fiancée uncovered a trove of bones and other evidence that could solve up to a dozen murders.”

“Then you don’t need me.”

“Mayor Cage—”

“Please don’t call me that.” With careful movements, I pick the sheet up off the floor and lay it over Caitlin’s body, leaving only her face exposed.

“Mr. Cage, I think you’d better come with me,” Mackiever says gently. “Pay your last respects, and then meet me outside in the hall.”

The colonel nods once, then leaves the way he came.

“I know it doesn’t make you feel any better,” Carl says, “but Caitlin did find what she was looking for, and I know she’d be proud she did.”

“Proud?” I echo. “Yes, she would have been proud. And for what?”

“For the families, man. All those boys that got killed, and the families that suffered. They can finally have some peace.”

I look back and find his earnest eyes. “Is that why she did it, Carl?”

The young ex-marine shrugs awkwardly. “I think so, yeah. She wanted to do good.”

A strange laugh comes from my throat. If only Carl had known her as I did.

“Well,” he says. “You knew her a lot better than me. All I know is, she was the prettiest woman I’ve seen in a long time. She still is, even now. Ain’t she? Even lying there now.”

I turn back to the table. “Yes. She is that.”

Taking two short steps forward, I lean over and kiss her forehead. She’s not as cold as stone, not yet, but the skin beneath my lips sends a shudder of revulsion down my back. The woman I loved is no longer present. Death has taken her, and it mocks me now from within her. The tears I leave upon her face might as well have fallen on the floor. When at last I turn and walk from the room, part of me is as dead as she is.