Chapter 42

 

 

42

 

 

 

 

For the first time in days, I felt like I was making a different kind of progress, the kind that was getting me close to the man I was hunting. About ten miles down the road, I discovered I had a travel buddy, a small red car that turned when I turned and really wasn’t hiding the fact he was tagging along, either. It was late afternoon on an open, public road, and one thing was certain: he wanted me to see him.

What I hadn’t decided was what I was going to do about it.

Winding my way back down to the city, I spied a place to pull over. It wasn’t the most public location, but it was public enough for now. Right before I pulled to the side, I second-guessed myself, deciding to wait just a little longer and see what became of my tagalong. I kept going.

I put my phone on speaker and called James.

“I’m on my way back from visiting with the parents of Evan Hall,” I said, “and someone’s following me.”

“Who’s following you?” James asked.

“I’m not sure. Might be our killer. Might be someone else. Whoever it is, he’s not trying to hide the fact that he’s tailing me.”

“What do you mean? What is he doing?”

“He speeds up and gets within inches of my car, and then he backs off. A couple minutes go by, and he does the same thing again.”

“Is he trying to run you off the road?”

“No, not yet. I think he wants me to pull over.”

“Where are you?”

I gave him my location.

“You’re still at least twenty-five minutes away from the city,” he said. “Do not pull over.”

“How fast can you get here?”

“I’ve just dropped Grace at the house to have lunch with my sister. Dad’s with me. He’ll call the police and give them your location. For now, stay on the phone and keep coming down the hill. We’re heading your way now.”

It was a good plan, but it was also safe. If the killer was in tow, this was my opportunity to face him.

“I’m pulling over,” I said.

“What? No!”

“I’ll keep the call active so you can hear what’s going on. If it’s him, I need to do this.”

James was yelling into the phone, but his words washed out, like he was speaking to me through a tunnel. My heart was racing too fast to focus on him. I needed to focus on me now ... and on the moment. I pulled the car to the side, and a man pulled alongside me. He put his window down. I shushed James and did the same.

“Stay in the car,” I said to the man. “If your door opens, or if you make any movement to come near me, I’m gone.”

I revved my engine to make sure he received the message.

He nodded. “As you wish, Detective.”

I lunged for the glove box and opened it.

“Don’t bother with the gun,” the man said. “It’s no longer loaded.”

I reached for it anyway. He was right. It was empty.

For an assumed killer, he certainly didn’t look the part, not that all killers looked the same. They didn’t. But most had similar eyes, wild and hungry, eyes that always looked more dead than alive. His face was hidden, his eyes covered by dark glasses and his head by a dark-gray fedora. He looked clean and polished, like a well-groomed politician about to sway me with a moving speech. He was mid-forties, I guessed, and slender, with dark, short hair. Most of it was tucked under his hat.

“Have you finished?” he asked.

“Finished what?” I asked.

“Critiquing me.” He smiled. “I’ve seen you, and now you’ve seen me. What do you think? Do I fit your mold?”

“I don’t think anything yet.”

“Sure you do. You look confused, Detective. Are you wondering why my cookie doesn’t fit into your cutter?”

“I’m wondering what you want,” I said. “Why were you trying to get me to pull over?”

“I want to talk, of course.”

“All right, let’s talk.”

“And here I was thinking you would have so many questions I might not get a word in.”

“I do. They can wait.”

He shook his head. “Ladies first. Go ahead—ask what you will.”

I decided to go straight for the jugular.

“Why did you kill Caroline?”

“You know the answer to that question now, don’t you? She killed Petey. Only some people never actually die, do they? I’ve come to realize they return to us in one form or another. I have to say, I never believed there was life after death until now. I always assumed we all became one with the earth again, dust scattering in the wind after we’re dead. I was wrong.”

He glanced in his rear-view mirror. I looked around, didn’t see anything.

“Caroline didn’t kill Petey,” I said. “He committed suicide.”

“There’s where you’re wrong. She put thoughts into his mind, ideas that made him see himself for who he was instead of who he wished to be. I really believe she thought she was helping him, but she pushed too far, you see. She could have stopped, but she didn’t. She pressed on, doing irreversible damage. It was wrong. Unethical. I told her as much, and all she kept saying was she knew what she was doing, and we all needed to trust her. She pretended like she was trying to help, but the only one she was helping was herself ... to further her own career.”

“Why do you think that? What was she doing at the house on the ocean?”

He raised a brow. “Oh, I see. Now, this is interesting. You haven’t learned everything about her yet, have you?”

“Tell me what I don’t know.”

“That would be too easy. It would rob you of the chance to seek it out for yourself. I have no intention of spoiling it for you. You’re so close.”

“Why didn’t you kill me when you had the chance?” I asked. “You killed Adelaide, and yet you spared me. You killed Caroline, and yet you spared Tommy. What makes you decide to kill one person and not the other?”

He frowned. “I made a mistake with you.”

“By keeping me alive, you mean?”

“I suppose so, yes. But then again, maybe not. I quite enjoy this conversation.”

“And Tommy?” I asked.

“Has the little sparrow started to sing?”

“He’s confessed to the murder of Hugh, just like you wanted.”

“Well then, there’s your answer.” His gaze shifted from me to his wrist. “You have four minutes left. Better make the most of it.”

“Why only four?”

“I saw your mouth moving before, while you were driving. You were talking to someone. Is he there now, listening to our conversation? What are you worried about? That something might happen to you if you don’t have a lifeline to depend on? Do you fear I’d finish the job and kill you this time? I’m giving you the chance to talk to me before they get here. One chance, that’s all. Don’t blow it. I’ll disappear long before they arrive, and they’ll never find me.”

“They’ll find you, and if they don’t, I will.”

“This area has many back roads, and I know all of them. So, what is it you want to know?”

“What’s your name?” I asked.

“Be smart, Detective.”

“All right. Where do you work? What do you do? Was Caroline the first person you ever killed?”

“Next question.”

“When you stabbed Caroline, you were precise. She died right away. Do you have medical training? Do you work in the medical field?”

“Rapid-fire questions. I appreciate your enthusiasm.”

“And yet, so far you’ve been unwilling to answer.”

“Keep going. Three minutes.”

“Were you in a special therapy group with Evan Hall that Caroline started?”

He nodded.

“How many others in the program?”

“Three. Well, including Petey and myself, five. Two minutes.”

As he counted down, I thought about what I could do to stall him.

“What was the purpose of the program?”

“Read the book and find out.”

“What book?” I asked.

“The book tucked inside your handbag.”

“What are the names of the others in the program?”

“What an unethical question.”

“Are you done killing?” I asked.

“Regrettably, no. I don’t think so.”

“Who’s your next target?”

“You, for starters, and then I suppose I should tie up loose ends. It’s unfortunate the senator survived. I’m still not certain how, although you were a most unwelcome distraction at the time. One inch less, and the man lived. I’m sure you’re proud of yourself for that.”

“To see him live and you fail? Very.”

“One minute, and now it’s my turn. Why did you come all this way to help a man you barely even know find a person you know nothing about?”

“It’s what I do.”

“You admit you took the job for the money, then?”

“Nothing I do is ever just a job. I go after men like you to stop you from doing more harm than you already have.”

Wrong. You go after men like me to fill a void in your own life. You go after men like me because you’re afraid if you don’t, your life will lack the luster you so desperately seek. Take away the thrill of the chase, and your life has no meaning. I fulfill something in you. Something dark and disturbing. Something you don’t want anyone else to see or know about. You don’t just want to find me, you ache when you don’t.”

“You’re wrong,” I said. “You know nothing about me or my life.”

He bent his head toward me. “I never took you for a liar. At any rate, we’ll have to agree to disagree for now because your time is up.”

“You have no regrets over what you’ve done, do you?”

“I don’t think about it much, one way or the other.” He paused a moment. “Well, I suppose that’s not true. I don’t care about what others think about what I’ve done. All that matters is what I think of myself and whether I can justify my own actions. So far, I can.”

He tipped his head toward me, and as his window went back up, he said, “You’ve made your choice to stay, and I accept it. When next we meet again, it will be the end ... for one of us.”