44
We headed to Oakland.
I called Carol as we drove south across the Carquinez Bridge.
“Hi Carol.” Would I ever be able to tell her just how long we’d known each other?
“Al, you sound good. Thank God. I was freaked. Any word from Lauren?”
“No.”
“O-oh,” Carol sighed. “I’m glad you’re okay. I stopped by your parent’s house to check on you today. I was surprised you weren’t there.”
“We’re looking for Mom.”
“Let the police and Jeff’s investigators do that, please,” Carol said.
“I can’t do that. No way I’m going to lie in bed waiting to hear,” I said.
“Please be careful. You should be resting. I’m amazed Steven let you––”
“His choices were to come with or stay behind.”
“I see.” Carol sighed again. “Well, I left food in the fridge and on the kitchen counter. Goodies from Citizen Cake.”
My favorite bakery. The thought reminded me we hadn’t eaten much since breakfast, but I was too anxious to have an appetite. My stomach flip-flopped every time I thought of Mom.
“Thanks. Your thoughtfulness is much appreciated.” I paused for a second between subjects. “You said you’ve done some research about serial killers?”
“Ye-a-h,” Carol said guardedly.
“So, what do you think is going on here?”
“I don’t . . . why do you think this has anything to do with serial killers?
“It seems like this all started when I got interested in Jeff’s, uh, Dad’s file on Lexi’s murder. Do you think she was killed by the Zodiac?”
“That’s what we were told by the police. I didn’t have any real evidence otherwise.”
“What about Lexi’s concern that someone was trying to harm, maybe kill you?”
“Whaaat? How did you––? I’d forgotten about that.” She let out a deep sigh. “Who the hell brought that up?”
“Is there a connection?” I asked.
“No. That had to ’ve been nonsense. After all, I’m still here. I haven’t had a serious accident since . . . hmm, 1969.”
“So not since Lexi died?”
“Yeah. What’s your point?” Carol’s annoyance came through the phone line loud and clear. “Lexi had nothing to do with my accident-prone days.”
“I don’t know. Is it possible that Lexi was the intended victim all along?” As soon as I said it I realized that that theory didn’t really fit all the facts.
“There was one time. A car Lexi and I were both in lost its brakes. But that was the only time that any of the accidents I had could’ve threatened Lexi,” Carol said. “No, it makes no sense. It was just Lexi’s imagination running away with her sense.”
“What about the mugger?” I asked.
“How the hell––? Who have you been talking to?”
“Unless the killer was just working his way up to a more overt kill, and the two of you were convenient targets,” I theorized aloud.
“What are you saying? That the killer was someone Lexi and I knew?”
“What do you think?”
“Look, from what I know of serial killers, it’s true that sometimes they work their way up to actual killing with lesser acts of violence like torturing animals, roughing people up. So-called accidentally hurting other children . . . stuff like that. So it’s not entirely out of the question that the accidents I had were some how connected. But––and this is a big but in my head––that would have to mean that Lexi was killed by someone we knew. Or at least, that’s what I think you’re saying?”
“And?”
“That doesn’t make sense. Think about it Al. We still know all the same people who were Lexi’s friends then, and as far as I can tell, no one has been killing anyone in the last few decades.”
“As far as you can tell,” I emphasized.
Carol was silent so long I thought I’d lost the connection.
“Where are you now?” she finally asked
“On our way to Elliott’s office, or maybe his and Nancy’s house in Piedmont.”
“Stay there. Let Nancy take care of you. Or head home. You really should get a good night’s rest,” Carol said. “God, I can’t believe you left the hospital. Let me speak with your brother. He needs to take you home.”
“Bye, Carol. Thanks for the info.” I hung up.
“Do you think we can catch Elliott in his office?” I asked Steven just as his phone rang. He answered via the Bluetooth in the car, so I heard Carol insisting he take me straight back to our parents’ and put me back to bed.
“Got it Aunt Carol,” he said.
Steven indicated the line of slow moving, stop-and-go traffic ahead of us.
“I’m taking you home.” His face was set in that stubborn look that I knew well.