of the motel, that it seems that nobody but Elena can
recall. You might ask her sometime about her theories about Camelot.
And then—”
That was when the sound as loud as Shinichi’s giant-sized gales of
laughter interrupted him. It tore through the face in the sky, leaving it
drooping ridiculously. Then the face disappeared.
“What was that—”
“Who has the gun—?”
“What kind of gun could do that to him?”
“One with blessed bullets,” Damon said coolly, showing them the
revolver, pointed down.
“You mean you did that?”
“Good for Damon!”
“Forget Shinichi!”
“He is a liar when it suits him, that I can tell you.”
“I think,” Mrs. Flowers said, “that we can retire to the
boardinghouse now.”
“Yeah, and let’s go get our baths.”
“Just one last thing.” Shinichi’s voice, giant-sized seemed to come
from everywhere around them; from the sky, from the earth.
“You’re really going to love what I have in mind next for you. If I
were you, I’d start negotiating for that star ball right NOW.” But his
laughter was off and the muffled feminine sound behind him was almost
like crying, as if Misao couldn’t help herself.
“YOU’RE GOING TO LOVE IT!” Shinichi insisted in a roar.
43
Elena had a feeling she couldn’t quite describe. It wasn’t letdown. It
was…let up. For what seemed like most of her life she had been