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Epilogue
Port Douglas
Queensland, Australia
THREE WEEKS LATER
Griffin and Kirra stood atop Flagstaff Hill looking out at the incredible crescent of Trinity Bay with its four miles of white sand beach and water so clear you could see the white sand bottom. Kirra said in a sigh of pleasure, “Nothing is as beautiful as this spot. I came up here a lot when I was going through teen angst, you know, when the boy I loved with all my heart dumped me and life was over. Breathing in this sweet air, watching the blue water slick up onto the white sand, it always put things in perspective for a time, even in my fifteen-year-old mind. I couldn’t wait to show it to you, Griffin. And there’s so much more incredible beauty I want you to see.”
He smiled at her, wished he could see her eyes through her dark sunglasses. “What was his name, this louse of a teenage boy?”
“You know, I don’t remember.” Kirra laughed. “This exact spot, this is where I stood.” Like him, Kirra wore khaki shorts and sneakers. Her well-worn hiking boots would have to stay in her closet for another week or so. She had a light stretchy pale blue T-shirt on with EAA—EXTREME AUSTRALIAN ADVENTURES—emblazoned boldly across the chest and on the back, and below it, Uncle Leo in profile holding a canteen in his hand. Griffin wore a similar one she’d given him with a koala munching eucalyptus leaves on the front, only his was black, more manly she’d said, and nibbled his earlobe. They stood quietly, the warm air like velvet on their skin, the light wind stirring their hair.
Griffin slipped off Kirra’s sunglasses. He could always tell when she was tiring and he saw fatigue clearly in her eyes. He wondered if her chest ached, but he didn’t ask, knew she hated it. In the grand scheme of things it didn’t matter, because she’d survived and she was mending. He looked out at the water and said his prayer of thanks for the day. It was a habit now.
The trip from Dulles to Sydney, then a different plane to Port Douglas, had been hard on her, but after only two days, she looked healthier, occasionally vibrant, and if he did ask, admitted only to soreness in her chest.
Leo had eaten his breakfast early that morning because he was off to lead a day trek with two couples from Atlanta to Mount Bartle Frere’s Summit near Cairns. Leo had kissed Kirra, smoothed her hair back from her face. “In a couple of weeks, maybe a month, you’ll be ready to lead that hike yourself. You’ve got to be patient.” He drew her against him, a ritual with them since they’d returned to Australia. She rested her head on his shoulder and he held her carefully, as he would a wounded child. Then Leo looked over her head at Griffin, smiled, and said what he said every morning before Kirra and Griffin left for a gentle walk, “Take care of the pretty boy, don’t let him hurt himself.” She always grinned over at Griffin, then back at her uncle’s deeply tanned face. “That one, pretty? He isn’t bad, and once I get him toughened up, he’ll be passable. He has a long way to go to be as pretty as you are. We’re going only two miles on the Flagstaff Hill walk. You know how flat it is. No, don’t worry, I’ll rest every few steps, Griffin will see to it.”
The truth was, she was impatient with her weakness, always wanted to push, and Griffin knew it. He planned to make sure they spent the afternoon lounging on the beach or by the pool, doing nothing more than drinking Queensland’s XXXX Gold beer and munching on Cheezels and Tim Tams, chocolate cookies that could put pounds on you if you weren’t careful. And mangoes, amazing mangoes, always in every bowl at Leo’s house.
Standing here on Flagstaff Hill, Griffin knew Kirra was relaxed and at ease. It was time to tell her the excellent news. “I got an email from Jeter. He sends his best. And Pepper’s best, too, of course. He wanted me to tell you Aldo Springer—you remember, the man who murdered Corinne Ewing? He rolled on Kahn Oliveras. Oliveras is going down, Kirra, as hard as it gets. Jeter says he can’t believe it, but Hailstock wants to take Oliveras to court and try the case himself. He plans to ask for life in prison. All the prosecuting attorneys are bug-eyed as you can imagine. Your boss, Alec, said Hailstock now appeared like a man on a mission.
“So, Eliot Ness, you got all three Grissoms and Oliveras.”
Kirra’s eyes blazed. It was almost too much to take in, particularly Hailstock turning into a real D.A., at least for Oliveras. She’d do anything to get him to make her second chair. She drew in a deep breath of the sweet air, said slowly, “It’s so hard to believe it’s over.” She poked him in the ribs. “You know what else? It’s weird, but it feels like a letdown. Poor Eliot Ness has nothing more to do, but wait, there are always more criminals who’ve escaped the law, maybe—”
“Don’t even go there.”
She laughed up at him, leaned her head on his shoulder. “I was kidding, really. Griffin, thank you. You really were a brick through all of it.” She paused, gave him a glowing smile. “You want me to teach you how to jump into a swimming pool from three stories up and not splat and die?”
There was no one like her. Griffin ran his knuckles over her cheek, kissed her hair. He was drawn back to the terror he’d felt when Talix’s knife had struck Kirra in her chest, when for that single horrible moment, he believed she’d died. Then her breath had whooshed out and she’d gasped with the pain. They’d medevaced her to Washington General to emergency surgery, and then they’d waited interminably. So many of her friends had come and held vigil, Savich and Sherlock, Jeter and Pepper, her best friend Cila McCayne, his parents, and lawyers in the Homicide Unit. It seemed forever before the surgeon had finally walked into the waiting room to tell them she’d live. Leo Mandarian had arrived the next morning, pale and terrified. Between cups of coffee, Griffin had talked him through everything that had happened and how his sister and brother-in-law’s murderers had at last met justice because of Kirra. When Kirra woke up and saw them together, she’d looked from Griffin’s face to her uncle’s. “When I get out of here, let’s all go home, Uncle Leo.” And so they had.
He remembered how quiet she’d been when they’d finally arrived in Port Douglas. He knew she was in some pain, but she refused any pain meds, said it wasn’t what she needed. When she’d walked into Leo’s house in Port Douglas, she went immediately to the large windows to look out at the Great Barrier Reef. Griffin knew despite the lingering pain she had to feel from the surgery that had kept her in the hospital for a week and a half, she would heal, both body and spirit. Soon she would be whole again.
Griffin had met the whole team, including Jawli and his wife, Mala. Mala had stroked Kirra’s hair, told her she was going to make her special meals to get meat on her bones. She’d turned to Griffin, eyed him up and down. “Goodness me, would you look at this incredible golden god with sky-blue eyes come to our little slice of heaven.” She’d shaken his hand. “I’ve never seen a prettier boy than this one. You going to put a ring on his finger, little girl?”
But Kirra had only laughed. She said to him now, “You’re grinning. What are you thinking?”
She was snuggled against him now, her hair in a ponytail, only a small swatch of bandage showing under her T-shirt. Griffin said, “I was remembering what Mala said to me when we met.”
“She called you a pretty boy. Ha. She needs glasses, well-known fact.”
A thick light brow went up. “Golden god with sky-blue eyes to be accurate about it. You still don’t agree with her?”
Kirra outlined the koala on his T-shirt with her finger. “Really, Griffin, be serious. It’s rare Mala sees a young guy built like you, certainly not one with blond hair and blue eyes. Because you’re different to her she thinks you’re pretty.” She took off her sunglasses again, then his, and slipped both pairs into her shorts’ pocket. She touched her fingers to his face. “You could look like a troll—not that you do, really, not exactly—and it wouldn’t matter to me.” She paused, then said slowly, her eyes clear, steady on his face, “When Talix sent that knife into my chest I thought I was going to die. I looked up at you and knew I didn’t want to leave you, no matter how homely you are. Bottom line, I love you. It’s a forever thing. Will you marry me, Griffin?”
Forever sounded right to him. Griffin thought of the diamond engagement ring he’d left in its box in his underwear drawer back at Uncle Leo’s magnificent house, waiting for the right moment. Maybe after some of Leo’s excellent champagne in the early fall sunset. He rubbed his thumb over her cheek. “I love you, Kirra. However before I agree, I do have a condition.”
“Oh? And it is?”
“Two kids. A dog for each kid.”
“That’s two conditions. Sorry, Griffin, that’s a deal breaker.”
He felt his heart stop.
She poked him in the stomach. “I want four kids, not two.”
