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King understood that this was by far the harshest sentence Eddie could have been given, and it was a self-imposed one. That was why he had asked the question.
“So what’d you come here to tell me?”
King sunk his voice low. “That you were right about Sylvia. I confronted her with it all, but I can’t prove any of it, though I’ll keep trying.”
“Did you figure out my ‘Teet’ clue?”
“Yeah.”
“Found out about him when I went down to the FBI at Quantico with Chip once.”
“Sylvia’s moved away from Wrightsburg, probably set up a new life under another name.”
“Lucky her.”
“I haven’t told anyone else about it, not even Michelle.”
“I guess it doesn’t matter.”
“It does matter, Eddie, there’s just nothing I can do about it right no
w. I have no proof. She covered her tracks really well, but I’ll keep trying.” King rose. “I won’t be back to see you.”
“I know.” As Eddie started to rise, he called out, “Hey, Sean, can you tell Michelle I wouldn’t have really hurt her that night? And tell her I enjoyed our dance together.”
The last image King had of the man was him shuffling off surrounded by the guards. And then Eddie Battle was gone. King hoped forever.
As he was leaving the prison, King was stopped and given a package at the visitor’s center. He was only told that it had been mailed here and they were to hold it for him. It was actually addressed to Michelle. He got back in the car.
“What’s that?” she asked.
“It’s for you. We’ll stop for lunch at that diner we passed earlier, and you can open it.”
It was truly a greasy spoon full of truckers, but the food was good and the coffee hot. They found a spot near the back and ate their lunch.
“Don’t you want to know how he is?” asked King.
“No. Why, did he ask about me?”
King hesitated and said, “No, he never mentioned you.”
Michelle swallowed her bite and chased it with some coffee.
“One thing still has me puzzled,” she said.
“Really, only one thing?” King attempted a smile.
“What was in her closet safe that Remmy wanted back so badly?”
“I think they were letters from a certain gentleman acquaintance of hers.”
“So she was having an affair?”
“No, this was a case of unrequited love. The gentleman in question would have it no other way with a married woman. But she wanted his letters back.”
“I wonder who it could have—” She stopped, eyes huge. “Not—”
“Yes,” said King quickly. “Yes. But it was a long time ago, and he did nothing to be ashamed of. He simply cared for a woman who turned out not to have deserved it.”
