Mister X

80

Quinn left Renz's office in a glum mood. It was true that everyone else who'd been involved in the investigation was satisfied with the outcome. Satisfied enough, anyway. Renz was certainly content with his cemented and powerful political position.

Fedderman was a realist and resigned to a gray world.

Helen the profiler would get a pat on the back and maybe a raise in pay.

Addie Price would have something to chatter about during her TV spots in Detroit, and no doubt her speaking fee would increase.

Vitali and Mishkin were in line for commendations and might be kicked up a notch in rank and pay.

Bribes to let the sleeping dog lie.

Even Pearl seemed comfortable with the result of the investigation. There seemed to be no doubt in her mind that Chrissie had killed Yancy. Pearl had come to the hostage site ready to find any excuse to avenge Yancy's death by killing Chrissie. She'd been burning to kill Chrissie. Only Pearl could have stopped Pearl from squeezing the trigger. And Pearl had.

But that didn't change the way she felt about Chrissie Keller.

Well, maybe they all had it right, Quinn thought. Justice had been served here in a number of ways. Chrissie's death might mark the end of the new incarnation of the Carver, and Chrissie had found her revenge. She'd killed her father, and her mother had to live with her guilt for not speaking up years ago, and with the image of her daughter's head exploding from the impact of a bullet that took brain matter with it as it exited the skull.

Maybe worst of all for her, Erin would always remember that shotgun barrel moving back and forth between her and Quinn, and she'd always wonder who would have been her daughter's choice to die next in the West Side apartment.

With the later murders attributed to Chrissie, the Carver's time of bloody rampage was finally over.

The victims' families would find peace and the much-mentioned closure. Mary Bakehouse would cease to be afraid and have two good and loyal friends in the large golden retrievers she'd bought as her protectors, dogs that would probably never under any circumstances bite anyone.

Maybe Renz was right, and Quinn shouldn't poke and probe.

Quinn believed that.

Sure, he did.