EPILOGUE
The bright blue waters of Lake Tahoe shimmered in the midday sun. Though it was the middle of July, nearly the peak of the summer season, Pebbles stood on the boat deck and gazed out from the secluded cove at a horizon devoid of companion vessels.
Closing her eyes, she embraced the solitude and relished a cool breeze that washed away the heat of the sun.
In honor of Anlon, she wore a hot pink bikini today, the closest shade she could find to match the color of the scooter he’d purchased for her last winter. Though she’d finally earned the moped, she couldn’t bring herself to ride it. Not now.
Bowing her head, she sighed deeply and a tear dripped down onto the teak deck as she reminisced about past simple, relaxed moments with Anlon. Staring at the huddled angel on her left wrist, she could still feel the touch of his hand in hers...
And then from behind, Pebbles heard Anlon stir awake.
A cheerful smile bloomed on her face. Pebbles turned and studied him. Still encased in a full arm cast on his left arm, and a full leg cast on his right leg, Anlon squinted through sleepy, pain medicated eyes and eked out a small smile in return.
His jaw was wired shut and his abdomen was wrapped tightly to support several mending ribs. Remarkably, though doctors induced a week-long coma to quell swelling of his brain and surgery was required to remove his ruptured spleen, Anlon survived Pacal’s brutal attack with the damage largely limited to broken bones. His recovery would persist for several more months, including rehabilitation of his surgically repaired leg and arm, but he was alive, and his doctors assured him his prognosis for a near-full recovery was high.
For this maiden voyage since returning to Tahoe, Anlon was dressed in a gaudy, floral Hawaiian shirt two sizes too big so as to fit over the arm cast and equally oversized navy blue board shorts for a similar reason. By his good arm sat a thermos filled with an ice-cold margarita. Extending from the thermos was an extra-long, bendable straw, a box of which Sydney Armstrong specially ordered for Anlon.
He reclined on a custom-constructed chair bolted to the boat deck. Antonio Wallace designed and then had his engineers build and install the chair so that Anlon could enjoy his treasured boat while he recuperated. Pebbles reminded herself to tell Anlon later that Antonio still wanted to hear the full story of their adventure when he was able to speak again.
Pebbles sidled up to Anlon underneath the retractable canopy shading most of the boat deck and kissed him on the cheek, her lip ring tickling his skin. She said, “Hey sleepy head! How are you feeling?”
Anlon angled his head to gently touch hers and he offered a thumbs up sign, their communication limited for the time being to gestures and typed or written notes. He extended the fingers of his good hand and ran them affectionately through her soft, royal blue bob. She closed her eyes and welcomed his soothing touch.
Pebbles asked if he wanted a sip of his margarita, observing, “It’s Friday after all!”
He nodded his acceptance and she guided the florescent green straw between his lips. After three long pulls, he gave another thumbs up and she extracted the straw. He motioned to the tablet on the cushion beside her. Pebbles handed it to him, he typed a question and displayed it to her. It read, “When will Jennifer arrive?”
Pebbles spoke in reply, “I pick her up from the airport next Tuesday. I’m excited to see her.”
Anlon nodded in agreement. He had both Pebbles and Jennifer to thank for his narrow escape from Pacal’s ruthless attempt to acquire the Waterland Map but he really hadn’t been coherent enough while in the hospital to thank Jennifer appropriately. He typed, “How long is her suspension?”
Though Jennifer received multiple commendations for her actions that hot May afternoon (one for lacing together the clues that solved Devlin Wilson’s murder, and the other for her heroism in preventing Pacal Flores from a second murder), she also was reprimanded for destroying valuable evidence, the Sound Stone.
It was an odd scene the day after the police chief and district attorney publicly awarded her the commendations. Gambelli called her into his office and reluctantly delivered the news. The district attorney was not happy she destroyed the weapon used by Pacal to incapacitate Dobson and inflict near-fatal injuries on Anlon.
Had Pacal not been killed in the incident and was instead brought to trial for murder and attempted murder, the lack of the Sound Stone as a piece of evidence would have been devastating to the state’s case against Pacal. The DA demanded the police chief suspend Jennifer, without pay, for six months.
She appealed with the help of George Grant and won a reduction of the suspension to three months, with her pay reinstated.
Grant argued, rightly, that Dobson’s death was due to carbon monoxide poisoning and no one could prove Pacal used the stone to knock him out, even if the police still had it in their possession.
Grant further contended that the scene at the deserted quarry was chaotic, and in the moment, Jennifer was overcome by the weight of the high-stress confrontation. In light of the outcomes, he claimed that the preponderance of her actions were of the highest caliber and far outweighed the theoretical damage envisioned by the district attorney.
The police union, Grant pointed out, supported Jennifer, as did her proud boss, Bruno Gambelli. Before concluding his arguments, Grant requested a private conference between only the DA, the mediating judge and himself.
Grant then peered skeptically at the stern-faced DA and inquired, “Do you really want me to go on television and online and tell the world my client was suspended because she broke a rock that can throw people through the sky? Are you sure you are prepared to answer reporters’ questions about that, live on TV? Permanently circulating on the Internet with your face forever attached to it?”
The judge snickered and bit his tongue. He suggested that Grant and the DA work out a compromise.
Upon learning of Grant’s victory, Pebbles suggested to Anlon they invite Jennifer to Lake Tahoe for the rest of the summer to “serve” her suspension.
Pebbles had already moved in with Anlon upon returning to Incline Village. When presenting the idea to Pebbles via a handwritten note on the ride back west in Antonio’s plane, he said he needed someone around to help during his recovery.
Given Anlon’s vast wealth, Pebbles ribbed him that he could buy all the home care he needed. Before he finished typing a protesting response, she accepted by declaring, “I kid. I kid. Of course I’ll come take care of you!”
When Pebbles called Jennifer to extend the offer, the detective happily agreed to join them for three reasons. First, she needed the time and space to rejuvenate. It had been a harrowing and draining series of events and the unexpected fight afterwards with the district attorney left her a bit disillusioned. She needed to sort her thoughts out and the idea of a getaway was welcome.
Second, she’d grown very fond of both Anlon and Pebbles and became unexpectedly blue when they left the Boston hospital where Anlon convalesced for the first month after the attack. It surprised Jennifer how close their friendship had evolved in such a short time, and she was elated by the prospect of a reunion.
Finally, Jennifer wanted to thank Anlon in person for stepping in to pay for her suspension appeal attorney fees and for offering her the chance to live rent free in his inherited Stockbridge home. She initially rejected his financial help, but Pebbles begged her to reconsider.
She told Jennifer that Anlon wanted someone he trusted to manage the restoration of the property after the destruction caused by the Corchrans. In his mind, Pebbles explained, Jennifer would be acting as caretaker and in exchange for managing the rehab of the property, he was offering a rent-free living arrangement and kicking in her attorney fees. Presented that way, Jennifer agreed.
“George Grant got it knocked down to three months,” replied Pebbles in answer to Anlon’s question. And then she winked and said, “Maybe once she’s out here we can convince her to stay on like you did with me. But get her a blue scooter. Ho
t pink is my color.”
Anlon’s mumbled laugh was truncated when his sore ribs registered displeasure at his sudden expression of levity. He tapped out a response on the tablet, “Agreed, hot pink is all yours! Are you ever going to ride it?”
She cringed and said, “Oh, sorry! Didn’t mean to make you ‘hurt-laugh,’ I’ll get around to it when you can take a ride with me. For now, we’ll just have to figure out how to entertain Jennifer for the rest of the summer.”
Anlon typed, “I know exactly what we’ll do.”
Pebbles gazed at him with a mystified expression.
Anlon pecked out another response, “We have work to do. No way is Navarro getting away with Devlin’s murder! Neither is Margaret Corchran! Plus, we need to find the Flash Stone before Thatcher gets his hands on it!”
They had not spoken about the Stones since Anlon awoke from his coma. During his initial recuperation, Pebbles deflected discussing the Stones anytime Anlon raised the subject.
However, not long after Anlon emerged from the coma, Jennifer had met with him to share the outcome of the investigations. Kyle and Margaret Corchran had followed Devlin Wilson to Bennington and then Mt. Whiteface to kill him before Devlin could cut off their black market artifact operation. Kyle had confessed to being an accessory to the murder in exchange for a lesser sentence and fingered his sister as Devlin’s killer. As Jennifer suspected, Dobson’s Sound Stone was the murder weapon used to throw Devlin from the trail — the same weapon Margaret used to incapacitate her brother.
But Kyle was adamant they did not kill Matthew Dobson. As Anlon painfully figured out, Pacal Flores did. During Anlon’s coma, Jennifer learned the details of Anlon’s confrontation with Pacal from Anabel. Jennifer had said to Anlon, “That was pretty stupid, you know. Taunting a man holding a lethal weapon isn’t exactly PhD-smart, now is it?”
Anlon, through wired jaws, mumbled his agreement with her assessment before Jennifer continued on. She told Anlon they found a flash drive on Kyle Corchran that held a copy of the Waterland Map. Kyle told them Margaret escaped with an identical flash drive, and he also named Klaus Navarro as the man on the buying end of the artifacts. When questioned whether Navarro was involved in the plot to kill Devlin, Kyle vehemently denied Navarro’s involvement. While Jennifer wasn’t convinced, there was no proof otherwise.
“Thank you, by the way, for getting Pacal to admit to Dobson’s murder and confirming Thatcher Reynolds’ involvement. We haven’t found him yet, but it’s only a matter of time. The FBI is now involved.”
Jennifer finished the case description by noting that Margaret Corchran’s whereabouts were unknown, though she suspected that Margaret had escaped the country, likely with Navarro’s assistance. Jennifer reached in her tote bag while seated next to Anlon’s hospital bed and withdrew the X-marked Port Stone from inside. She placed it on Anlon’s chest and teasingly said, “You should hold onto this, just in case Margaret shows up again.”
“Oh, and nice move hiding the map and the other Stones in the freezer. When Pebbles and I opened the safe and they weren’t there, we feared the worst,” she finished.
With Devlin’s house and barn in shambles, Pebbles sought out Antonio Wallace’s assistance to securely store Devlin’s artifact collection, including the Stones, in a location only known to the two of them. This hurt Pebbles to do, as she longed to chat with Malinyah again, but it was more important, for now, to keep them safe while Anlon healed. George Grant had secured the release of the two statues from Dobson’s safe deposit box. They were able to confirm both were lifted from Devlin’s collection. The gold coins, cash and diamonds remained in police custody as lawyers argued over what to do with them.
“AC, you’re in no condition to chase Navarro or Thatcher. We should just chill until you’re all better,” Pebbles implored.
He quickly shook his head no. His typed answer read, “Not a chance. Body’s broken, not the mind. And I’m not giving up!!!”
She squeezed his hand and grew stern. “Okay, but you have to promise me one thing. And I’m totally serious about this.”
His face screwed up in a questioning manner. She proclaimed, “No more running off to confront killers without me! I’m not kidding. Don’t you laugh. If you even think about doing that again, I will kick your butt!”
The look etched upon her face carried the conviction of her words. She’d traveled too far down the road of emotional investment in her budding relationship with Anlon to allow a repeat of the horrific confrontation with Pacal to play out again. Anlon nodded understanding, and typed, “You have my word.”
Pebbles extended a pinky for a soul-binding pinky swear and Anlon complied.
Pebbles didn’t tell him but one of the activities she and Jennifer agreed to undertake during her Tahoe stay would be to teach Pebbles how to shoot. She’d already purchased her own Glock and had signed up for self-defense classes at the local community center. The next time she had to fend off a madman, Pebbles thought, she would do it with more at her disposal than a crowbar.
Pebbles relaxed her pose as she let go of the thought and sipped her own margarita through a hot pink straw from an identical-type thermos. With her free hand, she patted Anlon’s knee and stared out at the lake.
Puffy white clouds drifted languidly overhead as the boat gently bobbed up and down. In the tranquil silence, Pebbles debated whether to broach the conversation she wished to have with Anlon or wait until he was fully healed. Though it probably wasn’t fair to have the talk now because Anlon was loopy on pain meds and couldn’t speak, somehow the peaceful moment felt right.
Breaking the silence, Pebbles softly said, “I’ve had something I’ve wanted to say to you, something I’ve wanted to talk to you about since Stockbridge.”
She paused, unsure of how to continue. Inside, her heart thudded against her chest and her mouth ran dry. She lifted the thermos for another sip and returned her gaze to the vast blue carpet of water, afraid to look at him when she said the words. “You rescued me Anlon. I was lost and wandering. And somehow you found me, gave me your hand and led me back. I am forever thankful.”
Anlon stared at her and shook his head with wonder. He knew she owned her journey back, he was just around when it happened. But, if in Pebbles’ eyes he rescued her, the reverse was equally true. Through the tablet he replied, “Rescue goes both ways. Figuratively…and in my case, you also literally saved my life!”
Pebbles shifted her gaze to the tablet and giggled at his response. “That settles it then, we’re both fabulous!”
As they sat in quiet and savored the bonding moment, Anlon wrestled whether to say what was on his mind. The phrase he wished to say was one better spoken, rather than typed or mumbled through wired bones. He also worried that she might discount the sincerity of his words given his current condition and chalk it up to an expression of survivor emotion. In the end, he decided to wait.
Instead, Anlon lightly rapped the Trinity Knot tattoo on Pebbles’ wrist to draw her attention. When she turned, Anlon stared deeply into her eyes with penetrating effect.
Pebbles’ face reddened and her eyes welled. She rose and embraced him as best she could without disturbing his wounds. Her warm tears trickled onto his chin as she leaned to kiss him.
Withdrawing, Pebbles stood and smiled broadly, “Okay, since I’m on a roll with confessions, I have two more for you.”
Stepping out from beneath the shade of the canopy, her diamond nose stud twinkled in the full sunshine and she said, “First confession. I haven’t told you yet, but I looked at the Master Stone a second time when I was alone. Well, maybe a third and fourth time too.”
A curious expression crossed Anlon’s face, unsure of where she was going with this confession or how this was connected to their preceding embrace, but he nodded in recognition of what Pebbles described.
“You remember how I told you Malinyah spoke to me? That I could understand the meaning of her words.”
Anlon nodded again.
“And she was kind to me AC. She helped me confront my pain and to confide in you.
“She told me my name in their language is very close to the name of a flower they revere, Alynioria. The last time I visited her — I mean — viewed the Stone, she walked me into a field near a stream. It was so beautiful Anlon! The field was filled with flowers a shade of blue I’ve never seen before.
“Malinyah picked one of the Alynioria and said the flower is used to heal. She said its name in their language means…salvation.”
Reposed in awestruck silence, Anlon’s mind grappled to comprehend Pebbles’ tale, unsure whether the pain meds were playing tricks on him.
She returned his earlier penetrating gaze and said, “Salvation is what I feel when I’m around you. And so my final confession is I got a new tattoo while you were in the hospital in Boston to always remind me of you and what it feels like to be saved.”
With that, Pebbles turned and faced away from Anlon. She reached behind her neck and untied her bikini top. It fluttered in her hand as a gentle breeze momentarily gusted. With the top perilously dangling in one hand, she hooked her thumbs under the thin waistband of the bikini bottom and guided the wispy fabric over her hips until it slinked down to her toes.
She seductively craned her head to spy his speechless reaction and leered at him deviously. Then she slowly twirled to face him. It took all of Anlon’s limited resolve to concentrate his gaze on her intended target. On the lower right side of her abdomen, below the bikini line, she pointed to the new body art addition, a deep blue budding flower. Alynioria.
Anlon typed seven letters and raised the tablet for Pebbles to view, “Amazing.”
Shadows of the Stone Benders (The Anlon Cully Chronicles Book 1) Page 32