Page 61 of Final Inning

That was a question he could not answer.

The girl…though…she was talking. And talking. And telling them everything she knew.

To save her own ass.

Not that it was going to do her much good. She was facing a litany of charges now.

To know a killer had been living amongst them, in a position of authority, of importance—it changed the fabric of a town like this. It would taint the town forever.

Hell, he hated small towns.

No way for private pain to heal.

Then again, he’d been in a damned lot of pain in a major city. No one had been there. Hard for him to ever forget that.

Two people had given a damn about him.

Taggart, that asshole, was one of them. He hadn’t let Knight push him away. Knight still didn’t know how he felt about that.

He crossed the diner, meeting the eyes of all who dared to look directly at him.

Miranda watched him.

The sling on her arm stood out. Said what had happened for all who looked at her. She’d be in the removable cast for the next six weeks.

Miranda had almost been the last victim.

He didn’t say a word, just took the seat across from her.

She looked horrible. He knew she hadn’t slept much the night before. Neither one had. He hadn’t been too thrilled at leaving her in the hospital room without him, considering.

But Alessandra Lorcan had volunteered to stay with her, while Knight handled all the bureaucracy and the windup of the case.

Miranda hadn’t been alone. There was that.

Knight wouldn’t tell her, of course, but he had checked in on her every few hours. Until Alessandra had promised him Miranda was fine, just sleeping. And asked him if he wanted to trade Alessandra places or something.

He’d just been concerned. Checking on her.

To make sure she hadn’t needed him. To protect, because every time he looked in the damned mirror he remembered being so damned vulnerable.

He never wanted that to happen to her.

“Diners everywhere,” she said. “Some have more charms than others. I…think I’m going to mark this one off my list for someday.”

“Not too keen on staying here, munching on celery?” The food on her plate looked as wilted as she did at the moment. Knight barely resisted saying something else.

“No more celery from Helery, for me. I’m ready to get out of here.” She just looked at him for a moment. “This place…brrr. Something almost evil, I think.”

“I’ve told you before, I don’t believe in that kind of superstition.” This was a debate they’d had far too many times now to count. “I believe in the evil of man.”

“Hmm. Maybe you are right. He…didn’t even realize what he was. And that is the terrifying part. He is a serial killer but he justified all of it. Made it all right and okay. I do not understand that at all. Still.”

No. And…the darkness of the world—it was taking some of the sun out of her. It hurt. To even contemplate it.

They finished breakfast. She’d turned the discussion to the photos on the wall. She was still looking at them as he picked up the tab. He stepped up to her side. Miranda had that intense, something isn’t right, look on her face. “What now?”

“Just…I do know that woman right there on the far left, though, Dr. Knight. I am sure of it—I met her when I was in Masterson at the inn. Funny coincidence. Connections? People aren’t ever really alone. That seven degrees of separation thing, right?”