Page 64 of The Hangman's Rope

“Go get your things, Lore,” I said gently. “Let me talk to your mom.”

Lorelai nodded and she went, and her mother turned away from me, her hands on her hips, her head tilted back to stare at the sky through the frosted panes of glass overhead.

“She’ll be okay,” I said. “I know it doesn’t seem like it, and that that’s your baby, but you gotta trust she knows what’s best for her own psyche at the moment.”

“I want her in therapy,” she said and I nodded. “Can find one in Savannah just as easily as we can find one here.”

She looked at me and said, “What if I don’t want her to go?”

I smiled a little sadly and told her the truth, “She’s over the age of eighteen. You can’t keep her here. She’s going to do what she wants to do when she wants to do it, mamma bear.”

She smoothed her fingers under her eyes, wiping away her tears and like her daughter, she didn’t wear any makeup. She was just naturally beautiful without it.

“You’re more than welcome to come down any time you’d like. I’m sure it’s a little creepy, I live in a cemetery in the caretaker’s house, but I’m not trying to take her away. I’m just trying to help… I’m quite fond of her. I want to see her thrive, too.”

“She’s my only child,” she said and her bottom lip trembled as she looked after where Lorelai had gone.

“I get that,” I said. She looked me up and down and sniffed.

“Promise me,” she said. “Promise me she’ll be safe with you.”

I nodded.

“I swear on my dead parent’s graves.”

I pulled one of my cards out and wrote the address to the caretaker’s house on the back along with my full name and position within the club and handed it to her.

“I know we have a bad rep,” I said. “There’s a reason for it. We don’t let people get away with pulling any bullshit on us. My father was Phillip St. John, you might recognize the name. We’re a prominent family around the low country and in and around Savannah. I may have renounced the trappings and traded in for a simpler life of hard work – but I know what it’s like in high society. How the whispers and the rumors start. The polite ostracization that gradually turns dark and vicious. She needs some time and a place to get it together away from all that shit. You can say whatever you want. Say she’s in the Caribbean, Switzerland, some spa or backpacking abroad or whatever else needs to be said… but know that she’ll be safe with us and if I ever catch who did this to her… law enforcement is going to be the last thing they’re going to have to worry about. You get me?”

Her mother’s eyes widened as she searched my face and took the card from my grasp. She nodded mutely and I nodded back.

“Let’s go say ‘see you later,’” I said gently and her mother nodded, her face crumbling again – but she knew I was right. She knew that her daughter was an adult, and that there would be no stopping her.

“Before my husband comes home and causes a scene, if you please.”

I nodded, “He can scream and make threats and throw a tantrum all he wants. If this is what she wants I’ll make it happen for her come hell or high water.”

“She’s an obstinate headstrong girl, Mr. St. John. When she’s in her right mind, and her heart isn’t so wounded, she’s a force to be reckoned with. I intentionally raised her to believe she breathed fire but tried to teach her the wisdom with which to discern when to do it.”

I smiled at that.

“You raised a strong daughter with a strong mind, Mrs. Gantz. Know how I know?”

She shook her head.

“She not only survived, but she also beat all the odds against a potent and powerful drug that’s left more women than not either dead or in a vegetative state. She’s been through hell in gasoline boots, but she’s more determined than I’ve ever seen someone to heal. She’s flailing, reaching out for help, reaching out to find her new place in a world that’s tilted crazily on its axis for her. It’s impressive. It’s powerful… and the more I get to know her, the more I love her for it.”

“I’m trusting you, Mr. St. John. A near perfect stranger to me, with my only daughter. You do understand what I’m saying, don’t you?”

“I do,” I answered quickly, falling into step beside her as she moved past me into the direction of the house. “I understand more than you know. I promise, I do my darndest to leave the people who come into my life better than I found them. I don’t have any illusions that Lorelai is in bad shape both mentally and emotionally and that this seems crazy as hell – but I promise. I wouldn’t be here if she hadn’t called me.”

I pulled up the voicemail Lorelai had left for me just a few hours ago and let her mother listen to it. It seemed to galvanizeher, cement things for her, that yes – this was whatLorelaiwanted. What her daughterneeded.

We went up the grand staircase to the second floor and stopped outside Lorelai’s open door. Lore was swiftly putting things into a small gym bag. I would have preferred a backpack, but this was about the size of one and it would do. It had a long enough strap to go across her chest and ride across her back. Shouldn’t shift too hard, either.

“Give us a moment?” Marion asked and I nodded and stepped off, down the hall a little way.

When the door opened a few minutes later, both of them were crying, but the vibe was good.

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