Maggie used Andrew’s key to enter the hotel room he’d shared with Marcus back in Jackson’s Grove. The first room of the suite was empty except for the rearranged furniture, their touchscreen display board, and various cups and food containers. It smelled of old grease and cold coffee. The door to the bedroom was closed. She pushed it open and found Marcus sitting on the bed in the dark, staring absently at the wall. His bag was packed and resting on the bedspread behind him.
After Marcus’s phone call with Ackerman, he had barely said a word to any of them. It was as if he were engulfed in some kind of fugue state. Maggie had never seen him like that. He just walked out onto Michigan Avenue and flagged down a taxi. It took a phone call to the cab company to track him down, but not until after the Director had explained the situation to her and Andrew. When Marcus’s mother was pregnant with him, she had run away from her abusive and disturbed husband, Francis Ackerman Sr. The pain of her loss had been the stressor that initiated a chain of events ultimately leading to countless deaths and immeasurable suffering.
Marcus didn’t seem to register her arrival. His stare didn’t leave the wall. His eyes were bloodshot. She could tell that he had been crying.
She said, “It doesn’t change anything. You’re still the same man you’ve always been.”
His eyes didn’t move. “You’re right. I’ve always been a man of violence, a killer. Now I just know why.”
“That’s not true. You’ve helped a lot of people. You’re a hero. It doesn’t matter who your father was. What matters is—”
He held up an outstretched palm to stop her and then said, “Did you know?”
“What? Of course not.”
“How am I supposed to believe that?”
“Because it’s the truth. You know how secretive the Director is. He never tells us what’s really going on.”
“And you don’t see a problem with that?”
Maggie said, “Of course I do, but what I am supposed to do about it.”
“I don’t know. I don’t know what to think anymore, but I can’t keep going like this. I’m done.” Marcus stood, looked into her eyes, and said, “I love you, Maggie. I always have. I’m just not very good at showing it.”
His hand found her cheek, and she pressed her face into his palm as her own tears fell.
Marcus continued, “Come with me. We can start a new life, a normal life. I can’t promise you that it’ll be perfect, but I’ll do my best.”
She swallowed hard and thought of her younger brother and the man who had stolen him away. Her mouth was dry, and her voice trembled. “I don’t want a normal life. We help people. Think of all the people that would have died this week if you hadn’t have been there to save them. I can’t leave that behind, and you’ve said it yourself: you can’t run from what you are.”
He leaned in and kissed her long and hard. Then he whispered, “I can try.”
*
Marcus felt like he was wandering through a nightmare somewhere between awake and asleep. He had felt depression before. He had felt sadness before. But nothing as deep and destructive as this. It felt as though a black hole had opened up inside of him and sucked out all his desire to go on living.
As he stepped into the hallway and left Maggie behind, he found Andrew leaning against the wall.
“Where do you think you’re going?” Andrew said.
“Anywhere but here.”
“I hear Vasques is awake and doing well.”
“That’s good.”
“You going to pay her a visit?”
“No,” Marcus said, thinking of his recent run-in with her partner.
Andrew clasped his shoulder. “We need you. You realize that, right? You’re the best investigator that I’ve ever worked with. You just need some time to clear your head, let all this process.”
Marcus forced a smile. “You’ve been a good friend. I’ll get in touch once I’m settled somewhere. Take care of Maggie for me.”
Andrew nodded, and Marcus stepped past him and headed for the elevator.
“Marcus, wait. If you’re leaving anyway, then there’s one more thing that you should know.”