Page 71 of The White Picket Fence

It was done. “I did it.”

Tino’s hand engulfed hers. “You did. I’m so proud of you. You were scared, but you used your head. You’re a superstar, baby.”

She rested her head on his shoulder. “I need a shower. I have pepper in my hair.”

Tino laughed quietly. “I’ll take care of you. Don’t worry.”

She believed him.

EPILOGUE

Philadelphia, Pennsylvania

Saturday, April 16, 4:45 p.m.

“He’s beautiful,”Charlotte murmured, looking down at the bundle she carefully held.

Sophie had held on for another fifteen days before going into labor, long enough that the doctor was satisfied that the baby would be fine. Sophie would be fine as well, she’d assured them, but Vito was ever watchful.

The family had come to meet little Harry in shifts, and it was Tino’s turn. He’d insisted Charlotte accompany him, even though she hadn’t thought she should be included.

Tino had been adamant, though. Partly because he wanted her to be a part of his family, as she should have been all along. And partly because he still didn’t want to let her out of his sight.

He was getting better about the second one. But he didn’t think he’d ever forget the sight of that monster putting his gun to Charlotte’s head. That the man had died in the hospital of the wound to his gut didn’t keep Tino awake at night.

But it did keep Charlotte awake. She’d dealt the death blow and she went through periods of relief, pride, and guilt in equal measure.

The pride was well earned. She’d been resourceful and brave, using the items in Hale’s kitchen cupboards to take a madman down. She’d gotten justice for those Hale had wronged.

Philly PD had mourned the two officers Hale had killed to get to Kayla Lewis. Tino had never met them, but Vito said the fallen officers had been good men and good cops.

The inmate who’d killed Charlotte’s stalker had confessed to taking direction from another inmate, one with whom Hale had met at the Memphis prison. Hale had paid a thousand dollars for the stalker’s murder. Tino wasn’t exactly devastated that the man was dead, because it meant that he could never hurt Charlotte again.

Oscar Dupree, the man who’d helped Hale get a job at the Japanese restaurant, had been murdered for his money, and that had puzzled Vito for a while. But then Vito had discovered that Kevin Hale’s inheritance from his mother had been in a trust controlled by the family of the rich, skinny kid that Hale had been protecting in prison. Hale had hired them to manage the trust his mother had left him, selling his parents’ house and buying the blue Victorian.

But the money was all gone. What remained after the house purchase had been taken by the state, who charged inmates for their prison stay. Turned out that fourteen years at fifty bucks a day added up.

That was why Kevin had needed the job at the restaurant to begin with. Had he not bought the blue Victorian with cash, he would have had enough to live comfortably for decades.

Kayla Lewis’s father had been brought out of his induced coma and was making some progress toward recovery. It would be a long road for that family, though. They didn’t blame Charlotte for Hale’s obsession with her, but Charlotte blamed herself.

She’d been cooking like a woman possessed, making sure that the three families impacted by Hale’s shooting spree on her street would not miss a single meal. The rest of the time, she was caring for her aunt, who’d been discharged from the hospital only a few days before. Mrs. J wouldn’t fully recover, but she was in much less pain. Tino and Charlotte had told her a very toned-down version of the story of Kevin Hale, but even that had required doctors to treat Mrs. J for a mild heart attack.

The elderly woman was very excited that Charlotte and Tino were back together, however, and that was what Charlotte had emphasized. She’d moved her aunt into her condo partly because, even with a stair lift, Mrs. J wasn’t able to navigate the stairs alone.

But mostly because Mrs. J didn’t feel like she could live there again, not after having been attacked there. She liked Charlotte’s condo and was already planning on helping Charlotte cook for the neighborhood.

But for now, Mrs. J was taking it easy, mostly watching television and snoozing. Tino had fetched art supplies from her house for her to enjoy when her broken arm was healed.

“Are you and Uncle Tino having kids?”

Tino blinked at the question, asked by Sophie’s oldest. Anna was seven years old and as chatty as her mother, but with the bluntness of her father.

“Anna,” Sophie scolded from the hospital bed. “That’s a private matter, between Charlie and Tino.”

Anna looked confused but apologized to Charlotte.

Charlotte glanced up at Tino before smiling at Anna. “It’s fine. I understand why you’d be curious. But I think, for now, I’d be happy visiting with you and your brothers. Maybe I can come by and we can make dinner for your mom so she can rest. I’ll show you how.”

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