Jonathon King - Eye of Vengeance

Carly looked at her father, anxious over the mention of death, but hiding it well.

"What were their names?" she asked Ms. Cotton.

"Gabriella and Marcellina," she said. "They were artists, the both of them. Would you like to see some of the things I kept?"

Carly's eyes brightened and Ms. Cotton led both her and Lori to a small bedroom in the back. After a minute she returned alone.

"That child is lovely, Mr. Mullins. Is that why you wanted to come by, to show her to me? Because I already knew she was special."

"Maybe," Nick said, not really sure what his motivation was. "Mostly to thank you, ma'am."

He fumbled at his back pocket with his good hand and came up with a white, lace-fringed thank-you card, which he presented to her.

"Whatever for, Mr. Mullins?" she said, looking not at the card, but into his eyes.

Since the last time he was in this house he had not been able to rid himself of the feeling that this woman knew things about him that should have been impossible for her to know.

"For forgiveness," he said.

"Ah," the tiny woman said and turned away to step toward the portraits on her wall. As she did, Nick could see the stack of newspapers on her coffee table. He had no doubt she had read every story of his involvement with the sniper. "You gave some of it to me, in your stories. Now I give it back to you. Somehow, I believe, that is how it spreads."

Nick went quiet. No question had been asked. He didn't know how to respond.

She extended her hand to his, held the bandaged palm lightly and turned toward the interior of the house. "Let's go back, Mr. Mullins, and see what your girls have found."