Chapter 38

Cecelia sat quietly for a bit, a minute or two, and I didn't say anything either. Finally she roused herself, steepling her fingers and looking over them at me. "When the arrest comes, will there be violence?"

I flipped a hand, waving off the possibility. "These guys are cowards, remember? I can't think of a single case where a serial murderer fought when the cops came for him. They can't control 20 armed officers barging in, and so they just go quietly. A spree murderer – the ones who shoot up schools or whatnot – will sometimes go out shooting, because that's what they're about, but the kind of creep we're hunting is about controlling people one at a time, and they're people he can control. When we figure out who this mutt is, he'll go down without a fight."

"Are you an expert on these people, Darvin?"

It was a surprising question, because she's known me for years and knows how little expertise I have in any area. "No, not an expert. What I'm telling you is basic law enforcement knowledge, nothing more. I've done some reading on the subject, both as an investigator and because it's just a fascinating thing, but the experts are those who came up with the knowledge in the first place."

She nodded. "It's just that you seldom speak in such depth on any subject – unless, of course, you're delivering a sermon."

I grunted. "This thing's messing up my eldership, that's for sure. I've managed to mostly keep my office hours, but I've had 'em take me off the preaching rotation 'cause it's just taking too much of my time an' I ain't got no chances to prepare."

Cecelia smiled. "I shall never cease to experience amazement at how well you can – and do – speak English when you wish, and otherwise mutilate the language as though it were a document which had offended you, and which you tore to shreds in anger."

"I'm a country boy – I got a four wheel drive ... an' all the rest."

"That has the sound of a botched quotation."

"It is – it's an Alan Jackson song."

"I despair of ever revising your musical taste; I shall have to content myself with the fact that you do occasionally enjoy jazz."

We'd gotten away from the reason I'd brought us into the study, but that was all right – we were done with that anyway. "Jazz ain't bad sometimes. But I do prefer what they used to call 'hillbilly music.' Speaking of which, you ever heard of sacred harp?"

She raised an eyebrow. "I have heard the term, and have the impression it has to do with shaped musical notation."

"That's it, or so I understand. I disremember where you were when I saw the documentary on it a while back – it's been a few years now. I can't even remember the year, but maybe you was on a trip somewhere. Maybe it was when you was doin' that favor up in Colorado." The pastor at one of the churches she does the books for had asked her to straighten out a bookkeeping mess up in Colorado Springs, and since she would have spent all her time on that, we'd decided I would stay in Albuquerque. "Anyways, it sounded wonderful, and it's been stickin' in my head all this time. I think when this is over I may look into it. As much as I love singin' in church, it ain't got quite the same sound."

"If you do choose to become involved, I would like to at least check into it with you. As you're aware, I love singing." It's true – in fact, she's the better singer of the two of us, and led the choir for a year or two in her teens back in Alabama. And every year when we visit Mama and Daddy in Leanna, she leads the choir for one Sunday morning service. It's the one time that she steps completely out of the formal box she lives in, and just lets herself go all the way.

"I am aware, and if I do I'll carry you with me. An' if it turns out to be something that don't interest you, not a problem. Shoot, I don't even know if I'll want to carry through with it. We'll have to see."

"And we certainly have the wherewithal to take the time for it. We have greatly increased our workload now that I am a part of the firm, but I remember the days when if you worked half the weeks in the year it meant that you were busy. We can, if other interests occupy us, reduce our caseload accordingly."

"Speakin' o' which, you're eligible to apply for you license when?"

"I first worked with you on a case in July of 2008. Compliance with the requirement of three years' experience, therefore, will come in July of this year."

"Time's fun when you're having flies," I said. "I was thinkin' another couple of years."

Cecelia grinned. "I do not know which to tackle first – the reversal of the cliche, or the question of whether you wish to postpone my acquisition of the license."

"The time an' flies thing is an old tagline that supposedly came from Kermit the Frog. And the latter ... they was a time, you'll remember, when I was leery of you even bein' my secretary, 'cause I didn't want you gettin' contaminated with the filth that you gotta wade through in this business. But I'm over that now. Cecelia, I underestimated just how tough an' brave you are. I still don't want you to get the scars I've got, an' I haven't been a cop all my life. But you can take it – maybe you can take it better than I can. I have nightmares sometimes to this day just from gettin' shot at. You got shot, an' you still want to do this. The best thing I can do is stand behind you, and shake your hand when the license comes through."

She got up and walked to the window wall – where the garage door had been before she remedied the garage into the study. She stood looking out at Inez Park across the road, her arms crossed. "I appreciate the sentiment, beloved."