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“How do you feel about this?” Matt asked. “We meet Jennie. She has the baby. I arrest her. We take the money—hers and yours—and turn it over to the FBI. Who you then lead to Chenowith’s house. It seems to me that a good lawyer just might be able to convince a jury that the repentant sinner was really trying to make things right, and was a nice person, to boot. She didn’t want to tell the FBI where Chenowith was until she was sure the other misguided innocent, Jennifer, and her appealing babe-in-arms, were safe from danger from both the wicked Chenowith and the noble forces of law and order. But once she was sure the—”
“I don’t like you very much when you sound so cynical,” Susan said.
“Oh, Jesus!”
“Sorry.”
“While we were talking about this—you being repentant and wanting to make amends—the situation was unexpectedly brought to a crisis when Jennifer called, announced she wanted to get away, in fear of her life, from the monster Chenowith, and we had to act.”
Susan looked at him, her lips pursed, for a long moment.
“How did we act?” she asked finally.
“I call Jack Matthews, and tell him I have to talk to him. He meets us in the restaurant. In Doylestown. While we are explaining to Jack how you have decided to do the right thing, Jennifer shows up—so far as Matthews is concerned—much earlier than she is supposed to. There is no time for Matthews to summon the Anti-Terrorist Group, or, for that matter, the local cops. We arrest Jennifer. You tell her not to say a word to anybody about anything until she’s talked to a lawyer.”
“She might not listen to me. As far as she is concerned, I will have betrayed her. Which is what I would have done.”
“Get it through your head, goddamn it, that neither of you is going to walk on this. All we can do is cut our losses. If Jennifer insists on being a revolutionary heroine, that’s her choice. And once she does that, you shift into your save-my-own-ass mode. Otherwise, you’re going down the toilet with her.”
“Maybe that’s what’s going to happen anyway,” Susan said.
“What about us? Does this nutty bitch mean more to you than I do?”
She met his eyes, then shook her head.
“You know better than that,” she said.
“There’s something I think I should tell you,” Matt said. “I was thinking about this too, watching that stupid cowboys-and-indians movie. And my solution to this problem—and I had damned near made the decision, before you knocked at the door—was to go out to your house, get your father out of bed, tell him all about the fucking mess you’re in, and tell him that as far as I’m concerned, the best thing he can do for you is to convince you that your only chance to keep from going to jail for a long, long time is to go to the FBI right now and not only show them where Chenowith is, but cooperate with everything they ask you to do.”
“You mean, without considering Jennifer and the baby at all?”
“Who’s more important, what’s more important? Us, or Jennifer?”
She looked into his eyes but said nothing.
“Honey, I don’t want you to go to jail,” Matt said. “I want to spend my life with you.” His voice broke. “I love you, goddamn it!”
She touched his face.
“Oh, Matt!”
“Honey, I’ve been in women’s prisons. Jesus Christ, I don’t even want to think of you being in one of them.”
“I don’t want to go to prison,” she said. “But I can’t just—cut Jennifer loose. I just can’t!”
“Even if it fucks us up once and for all?”
“Can we at least try to help Jennie and her baby?” Susan asked.
“And if it doesn’t work? And I have to tell you, I don’t think it will.”
“I would have tried,” Susan said.
“Is it that important to you?”
She nodded.
“I wish it wasn’t,” she sa
