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Sixteen

“The question is,” Vicky said thoughtfully when they were back in the car, “do we believe her?”

“She wasn’t pleased that we knew about the affair,” Jude said. “And since she wasn’t so thrilled, why would she lie about being with him when Marci’s house went bonkers?”

“Well, there’s another question,” Vicky told him.

“What’s that?”

“We’re still talking about doing things through the internet, AI, and not having to be physically present to get something done. Two possibilities if she was telling the truth. Barton Clay is guilty—and he managed to get online while he was with her and A, she’s guilty, too, or B, she’s oblivious, and he managed to hit a few keys while she wasn’t watching.”

“Those are the two possibilities?” Jude asked.

“No, that’s one possibility, assuming that Nancy Cole is telling the truth. The second possibility is that he’s still guilty—he planned it all with a timer set for the hack and used her as an alibi if we were to get this close.”

“It’s time to talk to him again, anyway. And I know he’s been my concentration, but Arnold has had the cyber sleuths on everyone else at that law firm—he’s had people talking to people. And we’re just not coming up with anything else.”

“And we’re not coming up with anything solid against Barton Clay,” Vicky reminded him.

Jude stared ahead as he drove, slightly shaking his head. “Okay, that’s true. But there’s something that’s not right. Just something that we’re missing. And if we skewer him long enough, we’re going to get him.”

“Well, we can try again. And even if other agents and officers have spoken with the rest of the attorneys, paralegals, and everyone else at the firm, we may need to take a better look at them. I’m going to agree on one thing. Unless I’m the most horrible person known to man when it comes to reading other human beings, I think that Nathaniel Wharton is innocent, horrified and broken by the losses of Marci and Celia Smith. We haven’t spent much time with Dixon, or the other heads of the departments.”

“Okay. But you’ll humor me on this trip out to see Barton Clay, right?” he asked, glancing her way.

“Hey, we’re headed that way,” Vicky told him. “Except…”

“Except?”

“Except I wish we had something, anything!”

Their phones started ringing simultaneously.

“Aidan,” Vicky said worriedly, grabbing her phone. “He and Cary were working on the hack that was attempted at the property! I hope nothing else—” She broke off, answering the phone. “Aidan! Are you all right?”

“Fine, and Cary and I are good, new firewalls, codes, you name it. We’re good. And I’m proud to say that as good as this hacker might be, in some ways Cary and I are better.”

“No surprise and thank God!” Vicky said. “Anyway, Aidan, we saw Nancy Cole who swears to innocence and says that Barton Clay was with her when Marci’s house went haywire. Jude is driving. I’m putting you on speaker.”

“Well, forensics are finally paying off,” Aidan said.

“You found the source?” she asked.

“No, no, sorry, not that good! But we did discover something. Cyanide.”

Vicky glanced at Jude.

“Cyanide?” they said together.

“So, here’s the thing. You can’t walk into a drugstore and buy cyanide capsules in the aspirin aisle. Most cyanide poisoning is something slow and there are four different kinds. For one, people can get cyanide poisoning from a burning house and say exposure to contaminated ground or air or food. So, someone having a cyanide capsule like Samuel Hutchins? It was designed for him before being left where he could find it if he erred and wanted to save his family.”

“Okay, where are we going with this?” Vicky asked.

“The capsules—and I’m assuming there are more—were made. And I believe that they came from a certain rodenticide, or rat poison. And I do have something for you—the fact that Barton Clay purchased a large supply approximately three months ago. Also, since the house didn’t give up anything when our crews went through, Cary and I decided to do some deep, deep dives. We discovered that Barton Clay had an uncle who died last year. He owned a house in the woods near Ocala National Forest. The house should have gone to the uncle’s daughter, Barton’s cousin, but she’s been living in France for the last ten years and has no desire to go rough it. She asked Barton just to keep the property in the family, check on it now and then. It’s a wooden shack that sits on a few acres of land. If you were going to practice some chemistry, making little capsules out of rat poison, it would be a great place to do it.”

“Head there now—”

“There’s a team on the way,” Aidan said. “But I wanted to let you know right away because we knew that you and Cary were going to eventually be off to talk to the man again. At the very least, we know he purchased the poison.”

“And it’s something to work with!” Jude said. Vicky glanced his way; he was looking at her. “Ask and ye shall receive!”

“What?” Aidan asked over the phone line.

“Sorry!” Jude said. “We were just wishing we had something more to go in with. You delivered in a timely manner.”

“Oh, well, great. I’ll let you know as soon as we know more. Should be soon. A chopper is taking them down there. The distance isn’t that great, but still, much faster by air.”

“Great. Keep us advised. We’re on the way to the Clay house now.”

They ended the call.

“Occam’s razor,” Jude said.

“What?”

He laughed. “Philosophy. Solve a problem using the smallest set of variables, or, to put it another way, the simplest answer is usually the right one.”

“Back to Barton Clay! Jude, come on now, think about it. You are obsessed!” Vicky said, “And then again, you may be right. Except that one might think that with all his prowess and money—slimy as it may be— one would think that he would have fled somewhere by now. Physically, that is. Think about it. Only poor souls who were broke or panicked that horrible things could happen to their loved ones did anything that needed a physical presence. And those failed, miserably. The things that have been successful have been done online using AI. Barton Clay could do things on the internet from just about anywhere in the world, so, why take a chance on prison here?”

Jude was thoughtful for a minute. “There’s just something about the way everything seems to come back to him. Why not his confidence? He’s like a Carlos Rodriguez, so sure of himself that nothing matters. He’s just certain that he’ll beat it all.”

“Well, we’re here now, so let’s try this new tactic,” Vicky told him.

“We are here,” he agreed, setting the car in Park. “Time to find out about rat poison!”

They headed to the door and rang the bell.

The maid answered and sighed wearily. “I will tell them you are here,” she said, clearly aggravated they had come again.

But a minute later Barton Clay came hurrying down the stairs. He looked at them, frowning. “All right, well, I thought you knew everything about me, including all the things that you don’t like, so, what else can I do for you?” he asked.

“Tell us about poison,” Jude said.

Vicky wondered if they shouldn’t have tried to get the man to let them in first. They didn’t have him yet—if he was guilty.

But the man stared at them, frowning, as if he truly had no idea what they were talking about.

“Poison,” Barton said. “Celia Smith died when the elevator went down. Captain Quincy died when his boat crashed and exploded. Marci was killed by her house—whether there was or wasn’t someone behind the glitches in her system. And I know you’re investigating the car death of the judge who condemned Carlos Rodriguez’s son in Tennessee, but…none of them died by poison!”

“I’m sorry, but we need an explanation,” Jude told him politely. “We can talk here, or we can head to the local police station.”

“We can talk here. Come in,” the man said.

As they entered, Belinda came hurrying down the stairs, appearing as confused as her husband that they should be there again.

“Your uncle, Desmond Clay, passed away, leaving you a house,” Jude said as he nodded to Belinda but spoke to Barton.

“What? Now you think I killed my uncle?” Barton asked, shaking his head.

“No, sir,” Vicky said. “We just need to know why you ordered so much rat poison to his house.”

“Rat poison!” Barton said. Again, he appeared to be truly astonished. “I didn’t order any rat poison. There may be rats there, I don’t know. But I don’t care. I promised my cousin I’d see to it that nothing on the property would be a code violation, but…it’s in an unincorporated area in the woods. There isn’t much she could do that would attract anyone and I personally hate the place. I hate the Everglades, mosquitoes, snakes, and alligators, and that property gets them all.”

“Rat poison was ordered on your credit card and sent to that destination,” Jude said. “I’m afraid that there are records to prove it.”

“What credit card? I watch my cards! There was no rat poison charged on them!” he said indignantly.

Belinda stood by her husband’s side, her arm slipped through his protectively.

“He isn’t lying!” she cried vehemently. “We never go out there. The wilderness is just not… Well, I mean, I know it’s there, but a vacation for us is a great hotel on the beach with waiters running around with pina coladas…and a spa!”

“This hacker has stolen my identity!” Barton said. “Whoever is doing this is trying to frame me. You know, I’ve made mistakes in my past. I’ve twisted the law and I’ve represented some questionable people. But I didn’t do this! Marci was my friend. And Celia was a bear—but she was our bear! I would never have hurt either of them. And I don’t understand. No one was poisoned.”

“No, but people hired to ensure that some of the deeds were done were supplied with capsules or pills—laced with cyanide. They were to die rather than give anything away,” Jude told him.

“Get your people on it. Please, get your best people on it,” Barton said, shaking his head, his denial adamant. “I’m telling you, I didn’t kill anyone. I’m a victim myself! I check my cards. Some are business, some are private. I didn’t charge any kind of poison, rat poison, any poison, I swear it!” He paused. “Am I under arrest? Am I being charged with buying rat poison?”

“Not now, but there has been a warrant issued and they are searching that property now, as we speak,” Jude informed him.

“They won’t find anything. And now, unless you are going to arrest me, leave!” Barton said.

“As you wish,” Jude said pleasantly.

He looked at Vicky. She nodded. As they left, they could hear Belinda’s soft voice, whispering, “Oh, my darling, why are they persecuting you in this horrible manner! You must sue them. I mean, Nathaniel will know how to sue the federal government and those horrible people individually!”

“Well, that went pleasantly!” Vicky murmured as they left the house. “Too bad we can’t arrest people for absolute nastiness!”

Jude smiled at that. “At first, he seemed stunned. I’m hoping that there is a way for our cyber people to tell if Barton Clay’s identity was stolen or not. I had been thinking he was a lot like Carlos Rodriguez, so sure of himself that he’d dare us to prove he’d done anything just because he’d bought rat poison. And just buying it doesn’t make him guilty of anything.”

“A curse and a blessing,” Vicky said.

“The internet.”

“Yep!”

“One way or another, it has changed the world. Now I have friends who are telling me that their kids want to grow up to be ‘influencers.’” He laughed softly. “That wasn’t an option when I was a kid!”

“Ah, well, I don’t think it would have changed anything for either of us,” she told him.

They had only driven two blocks from the Clay house when Vicky’s phone began to ring.

“Aidan,” she said, answering it quickly. “On speaker, of course!”

“Then you’re not still with Barton Clay?” Aidan asked.

“No,” Vicky said. “We just left. He swears he didn’t buy the poison, that his identity was stolen, that he checks his credit card, and no credit card that he has purchased poison.”

“Well, that’s odd,” Aidan said. “Because they found the poison, all kinds of chemistry paraphernalia and pills in the house by the national forest. You can go back and bring him in. Thank God our people were prepared. The place is a hazardous waste dump!”

“We’re on it,” Jude said.

“And we’re charging him with—”

“Attempted murder,” Jude said. “If we can’t prove he’s been manipulating AI and killing people through it, we can prove he was creating deadly ‘weapons’ and with Samuel Hutchins’s testimony, brilliant attorney that he is, Barton may not be able to beat the rap.”

“He’ll be out on bail tomorrow,” Vicky said.

“Maybe,” Jude murmured. “But we’re bringing him in.”

He turned the car around and they headed back to the Clay house. This time Jude banged on the door.

And, of course, the maid answered.

“They don’t wish to see you. Unless you have another warrant,” she told them.

“We need Mr. Barton Clay. Now!” Jude snapped.

“I’m sorry, he’s out,” the maid informed them.

“His car is still in the driveway,” Jude said.

“Jude!” Vicky murmured. She was looking through the open door. There was an archway from the living room or parlor to the dining room and kitchen. The rear of the house had been modernized with a solarium that offered wall-to-wall glass windows and a sliding door.

The sliding glass door was ajar as if someone had just left—and not closed it completely as they had done so.

“He’s gone through the back,” Vicky said.

“I’ve got him, hold here. He might double back once he thinks we’ve gone!” Jude told her. He caught her by the shoulders, leaning close so that the maid, who had stepped back, couldn’t hear. “Talk to the wife, see if she knows about the affair. She might get angry and give us something!”

“On it,” Vicky murmured.

Ignoring the maid’s attempt to close the front door of the house, Jude pushed his way in, shoving her aside and allowing Vicky a chance to enter.

“Where is Mrs. Clay?” she demanded as Jude hurried out the back.

The maid stared at her angrily. “This is illegal!”

Vicky let out a sigh. “Reminding you once again that lying to a federal agent is a felony!”

“Breaking and entering is a crime!”

“We didn’t break and enter anything!” Vicky told her. “You opened the door to us. Now, where is Mrs. Clay?”

“What’s going on?”

The maid didn’t need to tell Vicky anything. Belinda Clay strode in from the kitchen.

“What is going on?” she demanded.

“The other one burst through the house, Mrs. Clay,” the maid said. “I’m so sorry, I couldn’t stop him, he’s…big!”

“And where is Barton now?” Belinda asked.

“Um…um…” the maid stuttered.

“He ran out the back. And Special Agent Mackenzie went after him,” Vicky said.

“He ran out?” Belinda said.

“Mrs. Clay, I’m very sorry to tell you this now, but your husband is under arrest,” Vicky said.

“But why? For what?” Belinda asked, big blue eyes open wide. “He’s an attorney. He said that you couldn’t arrest him for buying poison—the poison he didn’t buy, by the way—and you have nothing on him, nothing that would allow you to bring him in!”

“Mrs. Clay, we need to talk,” Vicky told her. “Seriously. I’m afraid there are things you don’t know and I’m afraid they’re damning for your husband.”

“I don’t know how to get her out,” the maid said.

“Darla, don’t worry about it,” Belinda said. She was staring at Vicky, and now she had a slightly sick look in her eyes. “Special Agent Tennant, I was just making coffee. Will you join me in the kitchen, please?”

“Yes, thank you,” Vicky said. “That would be a good idea. We need to talk.”

Vicky followed Belinda Clay through the house to the kitchen. The maid, Darla, watched them go before heading toward the back.

Did she intend to run out into the back, through the alley there, perhaps into the empty forested lots behind the house or maybe through the neighborhood to the nearby park, seeking to reach her employer first?

“I just… I can’t believe any of this about Barton!” Belinda said. “Oh, don’t worry, she’s like his loyal dog. Darla, I mean. She’s just trying to warn him, I guess. Though, if he took off, he must have been worried about something.”

They moved into the kitchen. It was large and sunny and offered a circular breakfast table in the center.

“Please, sit. I brew a great cup of coffee!” Belinda said. Then she sighed. “I just can’t believe…”

“Can’t? Or you don’t want to?” Vicky asked quietly, taking a seat at the table.

“He is a brilliant man!” Belinda said. “He attended the best colleges. He was asked by dozens of firms to join them! He liked Wharton and Dixon and even Celia. He said it was great to have a bear around so long as it was your bear, and… I just can’t believe this. As I said, he’s just brilliant! And he married me, little old me, high school education—everything else, anything else, self-taught!”

“Mrs. Clay, education can be important, but a person can be very bright even if they don’t have years of college and law school behind them,” Vicky said. “I’m sure that you’re very bright yourself and that’s why… Well, it’s why we need to talk. You’re certain that Barton and Marci were friends, and—” she paused, partially feigning her regret at going on “—that he was also very good friends with Nancy Cole, the young woman who came in to take her place?”

Belinda worked by the coffeepot, her back to Vicky so that Vicky couldn’t see her face to read her expression at that question.

“Cream, sugar?” she asked Vicky.

“Black is fine, thank you,” Vicky told her. She thought she’d lighten up for a minute. “I used to love cream and sugar in coffee, but since a lot of offices wind up with curdling cream and no sugar, I learned to love it black!” she told Belinda.

Belinda brought the two cups to the table and set them down, taking a seat at the table opposite Vicky.

“I love it black, too! Strong coffee. You’re going to like mine—I seriously brew a great cup of coffee. Maybe that’s why Barton married me!” she said.

“He married you because he loves you, I’m sure, because you’re bright and beautiful,” Vicky said pleasantly. “But sometimes men like your husband…”

Belinda took a sip of her coffee. Vicky did the same. The coffee was strong. As much as Vicky liked strong coffee, this was a little too bitter.

She pretended to enjoy drinking it, barely letting it touch her lips.

“Men like my husband, who went to the best college, top of his class in law school—I know what you’re going to say—such men start to believe they’re a bit above the rest of the world and that they can do whatever they want.” She took a deep breath. “You’re about to tell me he’s been having a long-time affair with Nancy Cole. And you think that Marci might have died because of that—so that Barton could get her a job at the firm. But she was going to get a job there, anyway.”

Vicky asked carefully, “You’ve known, or suspected, that he was having an affair with Nancy Cole?”

“Oh, I’m pretty sure he was having an affair with Marci Warden, too,” Belinda said. “But, I’ve liked being the wife of such an important man. They come and go. I stay.” She laughed suddenly. “I assure you, though, he wasn’t having an affair with Celia Smith!”

“But, Belinda, maybe he felt that Marci needed to be out of the way. And… I am sorry, because unless it’s proven that his identity was stolen and someone else broke into the house he was watching for his cousin, he’ll…”

Belinda suddenly smiled. “No, no, no. You mustn’t worry on my account. You see, from early on, I realized Barton saw me as eye candy. He has never thought I was bright enough to figure anything out. But, hey, you’d be amazed by what you can learn these days if you master the web! Did you realize you can learn just about anything in the world online these days? You can learn how to make bombs! How to make poison pills, how to manipulate electronics, and even how to manipulate AI?”

Vicky stared at the woman, ready to draw her Glock.

Was this what we’ve been missing all along?

“That’s right, Special Agent Tennant. You see, everyone in the world underestimated me! And so, I had to prove I was the brains of the operation. But, of course, I’ve done it all very carefully. Barton will go to prison—he’ll be right where he deserves to be after cheating on me year after year after year! You’ve wondered, surely, why he hasn’t fled the country. Because he is innocent! But that isn’t going to matter. Because it’s all working out brilliantly. When your partner comes back, he’s going to find you dead. And I’ll be screaming and crying that Barton came back and shot you.” She smiled sweetly. “Because Barton will come back—he will come back before Jude gets here. He’ll slip through the garage door. And I may need to shoot him, but I plan on only wounding him because I want him to rot in prison. Then, well, I have tons of money. And a plan to escape the country myself. AI! I just fell in love with it and then I discovered I could make a ton of money by killing that judge… Marci just had to go. And Celia was suspecting that I had used her computer when she wasn’t in her office, so… I really preferred making money. Oh, of course, I was paid well to see that Captain Quincy died, too.”

The coffee. There’s something in the coffee. She had barely sipped it, but she could barely move!

Belinda rose, heading for a cabinet. She returned with a little Smith it appeared he intended to double back to his house.

Why?

Maybe his wife was prepared to help him escape in some secret fashion.

Jude was able to quickly draw his weapon and warn the man, “Stop! Federal agent, and you’re under arrest. Damn it, man, don’t make me shoot you!”

Barton stopped and crawled back down, his hands in the air.

He turned and looked at Jude. “I didn’t do it! I swear I didn’t do it!”

“Clay, they just found a whole chemistry lab at your place in the woods—the creation of suicide pills for the minions you tried to rule,” Jude told him.

The man still shook his head. “I didn’t do it! Yes, I did bad things. I cheat on my wife. I represent people who might have done very bad things—that’s the way it is. Even crooks get the best representation they can afford. But, please, man… I didn’t do this!”

Suddenly, someone shouted from behind Jude.

“Drop it! Leave him alone!”

He turned. The Clays’ pretty young maid was standing behind him. She was armed; she had both hands on her weapon, but her hands were shaking.

“No! Darla, no, thank you, but—” Barton began.

Jude groaned. “Ah, man, you’re sleeping with your maid, too?” he demanded.

She’s shaking hard. She doesn’t know how to use the weapon she’s carrying.

“Lady, you drop it. Now!” Jude commanded. “I really, really do not want to shoot you!”

“Darla,” Barton added. “Please, don’t make this worse. Drop the gun. I’m innocent and I will prove it in court!”

Darla looked confused but she lowered the weapon.

“Where did you get that, anyway?” Barton demanded, looking at Darla with a frown.

“From the pit,” Darla said.

“The pit?” Barton asked her.

“The pit, the cache…the place behind the wall where Belinda keeps her things!” Darla said.

Clay truly looked astounded.

And it was then that Jude knew. He’d been wrong. The man was innocent. Innocent of everything except for arrogance and stupidity!

“She’s expecting you back, right? Belinda. You were supposed to double back, and she’d have supplies ready for you to find some place to hide out or a way to leave the country. Except, you fool, she doesn’t intend to help you, she intends to kill you and pretend that she had to!” Jude told the man.

“My God!” Barton breathed. “No, I… No!”

He almost wailed the word. But it was as if a blindfold had been lifted.

“She could have done it so easily, gotten a credit card in my name—she has the keys to the place in the woods. She…she’s always, always on her computer!” he wailed.

Jude didn’t wait; it was all so very crystal clear now.

Belinda Clay. Just a dumb blonde. Needing to prove something? So bitter against her husband and his continuous affairs that he had to pay and it didn’t matter who else was in on it. Or was there more, was she planning more…?

The forensic crew had found nothing except what they were supposed to find. Her computer and guns and money weren’t even kept on the property; they were buried in a covered wooden pit in the empty lot behind the house and the wall.

She’d had this planned out. Barton fleeing, him going after Barton, her alone with Vicky. Belinda Clay, a woman who had created cyanide suicide pills and God alone knew what else…

He ran. And he was fast. Belinda might have been ready to shoot Barton the minute he entered, and then she’d wait for Jude to return and she’d cry her eyes out, telling him Barton had been guilty, how she’d had to shoot him after he’d killed Vicky…

He slipped through the side door as silently as he could. And he headed to the kitchen.

And they were there. Vicky at the table, struggling to hold her Glock. Belinda, laughing as she made fun of the way Vicky was holding her gun.

“Drop it!” Jude roared.

But Belinda didn’t. She spun around, ready to shoot him.

But Vicky’s gun went off even as he gave the command.

Belinda’s shot went wild.

Because Vicky had caught her right in the back.

She went down—so did Vicky, slipping from the chair, falling in a curl on the floor by her chair.

Pulling out his phone, he called for an ambulance as he hurried first to stoop down by Belinda. To his amazement, she half opened her eyes.

She managed a smile. “You ain’t seen nothin’ yet!” she told him.

Her eyes closed.

He felt for a pulse. Weak, but there. He hurried over to Vicky. She was already struggling up. “The coffee. I was an idiot,” she murmured. “Belinda. Is she…alive?”

“Yes, EMTs on the way. They’ll get her to the hospital. And you. You must go to the hospital, too.”

“I’m going to be all right. I didn’t drink that much of the coffee. I barely brought it to my lips.”

“Thank God!” he whispered.

Sirens blared. Barton Clay burst through the back door, followed by Darla. “She was trying to set me up! Oh, my God, she was the friggin’ wicked witch. I’m going to kill her—”

Jude caught hold of Barton, stopping him. The EMTs arrived in record time. Belinda was swept away, and despite her protests, Vicky was taken, too.

“We must know what she gave you!” Jude told her. “I’ll be right there. As soon as cops or agents get here, I’ll be there.”

“But I heard her!” Vicky cried. “Warn Aidan and Cary and the others! She’d done something else!”

And she was right. Jude swiftly put through another call.

“We’re on it, but I think we were already on it. The hacker used an AI tool, broke through government firewalls. They almost accessed a ship with missiles, ready to make them strike New York City, but we’ve got it, Jude, we’re on it and we’ve got it.”

“Hospital, I’m on the way to the hospital as soon as—”

Other agents burst in, and Jude quickly briefed them before hurrying out. Barton Clay might have been innocent in it all, but both he and Darla were going to have a lot of questions to answer. He doubted the prosecutor would be charging them but they’d still need to answer those questions.

At the hospital, he found that Cary had come in to be with Vicky and was waiting for him outside her room. “She’s fine. She can come back with us in an hour,” Cary told him. “Succinylcholine—it’s a drug used in surgery to cause temporary paralysis. Thankfully, Vicky wasn’t heavily exposed. She’s in there.”

Jude nodded. “You and Aidan. You saved a lot of people today.”

Cary smiled at him. “You save a lot more—what that woman could have done if she had kept going is terrifying to imagine. And all to prove that she wasn’t a pretty sidepiece, to… I don’t know.”

“I don’t have a psychology degree, but it is frightening that someone so damaged could gain such an incredible amount of knowledge! But—”

“Go! Go to Vicky!” she said.

He rushed into the hospital room. She was already sitting up in bed, as if anxious to be out. He strode to the bed, sitting at her side, taking her into his arms, just holding her.

“I was so stupid—”

“I was so stupid!”

“But we were close, and—”

“It’s over! It’s really over!”

He pulled back just slightly, smiling with his incredulous relief. “It’s over. But, partner, I’d like to think that we’re never over.”

She smiled at him.

“Never,” she agreed.

They didn’t know where they would take it from there, how they would make it work.

They just knew that they would. Of course, there would be a lot to tie up regarding the events of the day. Paperwork—and greater concern for the cyber teams going forward.

But for that moment.

They just held one another.

And it was all they needed.