"That's great, Bryce," I said. "I was real sorry to hear about your accident."
"Yeah." He giggled fatuously. "Too bad you weren't there. You might've been able to save me like you did yesterday."
"Yes," I said, clearing my throat uncomfortably. "You certainly do seem accident-prone these days."
"Yeah." His eyelids drifted closed, and for one panicky minute, I thought he'd gone to sleep. Then he opened his eyes and looked at me kind of sadly. "Suze, I don't think I'm going to be able to make it."
I stared at him. God, what a baby! "Of course you're going to make it. You've got a busted collarbone, is all. You'll be better in no time."
He giggled. "No, no. I mean, I don't think I'm going to be able to make it to our date on Saturday night."
"Oh," I said, blinking. "Oh, no, of course not. I didn't think so. Listen, Bryce, I need to ask you a favor. You're going to think it's weird – " Actually, doped up as he was, I doubted he'd think it weird at all. " – but I was wondering whether, back when you and Heather were going out, did she ever, um, give you anything?"
He blinked at me groggily. "Give me anything? You mean like a present?"
"Yes."
"Well, yeah. She got me a cashmere sweater vest for Christmas."
I nodded. A cashmere sweater vest wasn't going to do me any good. "Okay. Anything else? Maybe … a picture of herself?"
"Oh," he said. "Sure, sure. She gave me her school picture."
"She did?" I tried not to look too excited. "Any chance you've got it on you? In your wallet, maybe?" It was a gamble, I knew, but most people only clean out their wallets once a year or so....
He screwed up his face. I guess thinking must have been painful for him since I saw him give himself a couple pumps of painkiller. Then his face relaxed. "Sure," he said. "I still got her picture. My wallet's in that drawer there."
I opened the drawer to the table beside his bed. His wallet was indeed there, a slim black leather deal. I lifted it up and opened it. Heather's photo was jammed between a gold American Express card and a ski lift ticket. It showed her looking extremely glam, with all her long blond hair flowing over one shoulder, staring coquettishly into the camera. In my school pictures, I always look like somebody just yelled "Fire!" I couldn't believe this guy, who'd been dating a girl who looked like that, would bother asking a girl like me out.
"Can I borrow this picture?" I asked. "I just need it for a little while. I'll give it right back." This was a lie, but I didn't figure he'd give it to me otherwise.
"Sure, sure," he said, waving a hand.
"Thanks." I slipped the photo into my backpack just as a tall woman in her forties came striding in wearing a lot of gold jewelry and carrying a box of pastries.
"Bryce, darling," she said. "Where did all your little friends go? I went all the way to the patisserie to get some snacks."
"Oh, they'll be back in a minute, Mom," Bryce said, sleepily. "This is Suze. She saved my life yesterday."
Mrs. Martinson held out a smooth, tanned right hand. "Lovely to meet you, Susan," she said, giving my fingers the slightest of squeezes. "Can you believe what happened to poor little Bryce? His father's furious. As if things hadn't been going badly enough, what with that wretched girl – well, you know. And now this. I swear, it's like that academy were cursed, or something."
I said, "Yes. Well, nice to meet you. I'd better be going."
Nobody protested against my departure – Mrs. Martinson because she couldn't have cared less, and Bryce because he'd fallen asleep.
I found Adam and Cee Cee standing outside a room across the hall. As I walked up to them, Cee Cee put a finger to her lips. "Listen," she said.
I did as she asked.
"It simply couldn't have come at a worse time," a familiar voice – male, older – was saying. "What with the archbishop's visit not two weeks away – "
"I'm so sorry, Constantine." Father Dominic's voice sounded weak. "I know what a strain this must all be to you."
"And Bryce Martinson, of all people! Do you know who his father is? Only one of the best trial lawyers in Salinas!"
"Father Dom's getting reemed," Adam whispered to me. "Poor old guy."
"I wish he'd tell Monsignor Constantine to just go and jump in a lake." Cee Cee's purple eyes flashed. "Dried up, crusty old – "
I whispered, "Let's see if we can help him out. Maybe you guys could distract the monsignor. Then I'll just see if Father Dom needs anything. You know. Just real quick before we go."
Cee Cee shrugged. "Fine with me."
"I'm game," Adam said.
So I called, loudly, "Father Dominic?" and banged into the father's hospital room.
The room wasn't as big as Bryce's or as cheerful. The walls were beige, not yellow, and there was only one vase with flowers in it. The window looked out, as near as I could tell, over the parking lot. And nobody had hooked Father Dominic up to any self-pumped painkiller machine. I don't know what kind of insurance priests have, but it was nowhere as good as it should have been.
To say that Father Dominic looked surprised to see me would have been an understatement. His mouth dropped open. He seemed perfectly incapable of saying anything. But that was okay because Cee Cee came bustling in after me, and went, "Oh, Monsignor! Great. We've been looking all over for you. We'd like to do an exclusive, if that's okay, on how last night's act of vandalism is going to affect the upcoming visit of the archbishop. Adversely, right? Do you have any comments? Maybe you could step out here into the hallway where my associate and I can – "
Looking flustered, Monsignor Constantine followed Cee Cee out the door with an irritated, "Now see here, young lady – "
I sauntered over to Father Dominic's side. I wasn't exactly excited to see him. I mean, I knew he probably wasn't too happy with me. I was the one whom Heather had thrown Father Serra's head at, and I figured he probably knew it, and probably wasn't feeling too warmly toward me.
That's what I figured, anyway. But of course, I figured wrong. I'm pretty good at figuring out what dead people are thinking, but I haven't quite gotten the hang of the living yet.
"Susannah," Father Dominic said in his gentle voice. "What are you doing here? Is everything all right? I've been very concerned about you – "
I guess I should have expected it. Father Dominic wasn't sore at me at all. Just worried, that was all. But he was the one who needed worrying over. Aside from the nasty gash above one eye, his color was off. He looked grey, and much older than he actually was. Only his eyes, blue as the sky outside, looked like they always did, bright and filled with intelligent good humor.
Still, it made me mad all over again, seeing him like that. Heather didn't know it, but she was in for it, and how.
"Me?" I stared at him. "What are you worried about me for? I'm not the one who got clobbered by a crucifix this morning."
Father Dom smiled ruefully. "No, but I believe you do have a little explaining to do. Why didn't you tell me, Susannah? Why didn't you tell me what you had in mind? If I had known you planned on showing up at the Mission alone in the middle of the night, I never would have allowed it."
"Exactly why I didn't tell you," I said. "Look, Father, I'm sorry about the statue and Mr. Walden's door and all that. But I had to try talking to her myself, don't you see? Woman to woman. I didn't know she was going to go postal on me."
"What did you expect? Susannah, you saw what she tried to do to that young man yesterday – "
"Yeah, but I could understand that. I mean, she loved him. She's really mad at him. I didn't think she'd try to go after me. I mean, I had nothing to do with it. I just tried to let her know her options – "
"Which is what I'd been doing ever since she first showed up at the Mission."
"Right. But Heather's not liking any of the options we've put before her. I'm telling you, the girl's gone loco. She's quiet now because she thinks she killed Bryce, and she's probably all tuckered out, but in a little while she's going to perk up again and God only knows what she'll do next now that she knows what she's capable of."
Father Dominic looked at me curiously, his concern over the archbishop's impending visit forgotten. "What do you mean 'now that she knows what she's capable of?"
"Well, last night was just a dress rehearsal. We can expect bigger and better things from Heather now that she knows what she can do."
Father Dominic shook his head, confused. "Have you seen her today? How do you know all this?"
I couldn't tell Father Dominic about Jesse. I really couldn't. It wasn't any of his business, for one thing. But I also had an idea it might kind of shock him, knowing there was this guy living in my bedroom. I mean, Father Dom was a priest and all.
"Look," I said. "I've been giving this a lot of thought, and I don't see any other way. You've tried to reason with her, and so have I. And look where it's gotten us. You're in the hospital, and I'm having to look over my shoulder everywhere I go. I think it's time to settle the matter once and for all."
Father Dom blinked at me. "What do you mean, Susannah? What are you talking about?"
I took a deep breath. "I'm talking about what we mediators do as a last resort."
He still looked confused. "Last resort? I'm afraid I don't know what you mean."
"I'm talking," I said, "about an exorcism."