The kid’s eyes widened. He ran the tips of his fingers through his hair, as if he were washing it with invisible shampoo. He made a strange, excited noise, over and over again, something between a snort and hysterical giggling.
“Hey, it’s okay.” I don’t know why, but I walked over to him and tried to lower his hands. “Your dad and I work together. We always talk like this. It doesn’t mean anything.”
His arms were stiff and resistant. “S-S-S-Sometimes my dad talks like that, and it means he’s mad.”
“Well, it doesn’t now. Your daddy adores me and I know it. Even when he tries to hide it.”
Apparently O’Bannon’d had enough of this fun. “Susan, you’re wasting your breath. The only reason I’m tolerating this intrusion is out of respect for your father. But that respect can only go so far.”
“Look,” I said, “I know you’ve got a weird homicide on your hands. I know the victim was buried alive. Obviously, you’ve got a seriously twisted killer. My specialty. You need me.”
“Like hell. I assigned the case to Granger.”
“Right, Granger-hawkshaw extraordinaire. Give me a break, Chief. Granger doesn’t know squat about aberrant psychology. Except maybe what he picks up when he looks in the mirror.”
“We’ll catch the killer, Susan. Without your invaluable assistance.”
I pointed to the photocopy on the table, the one with all the gibberish. “Is that part of the case?”
He shrugged. “We found that inside the girl’s coffin. But we can’t make heads or tails of-” He stopped short. “You are not getting involved, Susan. Give it up. Go home.”
Why was everything so difficult? Everyone kept babbling about how they wanted to help me, but every time I needed help, no one could deliver. “Chief, I need my job back. If I don’t get work, I’m going to lose Rachel.”
“That ship has already sailed.”
I was so frustrated, so furious, my hands tightened into fists.
“Are you going to spank my dad?” the kid-Darcy, I guess-asked.
If I thought it would help… “No. I told you, we talk like this-”
“Because whenever Unca Donald gets mad like that, he gets a switch and chases after his nephews and spanks them.”
There was something so strange about this young man, something so childlike and yet not, something unnerving because it was so ineffable. But I kept my attention focused on his father.
“Is this because of that jerk’s rich family?” I said. “Because if you’re doing this because you’re afraid of a lawsuit-”
“There isn’t going to be a lawsuit.”
This about-face caught me off guard. “Excuse me? This afternoon, you said-”
“No lawsuit.”
“Someone pulled some strings?”
“For you? Hell, no. You just got lucky.”
“What happened?”
“At the hospital today, some helpful RN knocked over a table where the frat boy had laid the pants he was wearing when you worked him over. And guess what fell out of his pocket? A little baggie filled with crystal meth.”
“You’re kidding me.”
“Like I said, you got lucky. Of course, there’s no evidence that he was using on the night in question. But it would certainly explain his aggressive and violent behavior.”
“Did he have aggressive and violent behavior?”
“Sure. That’s how the fight started, right? You had to defend yourself.”
“To tell the truth, I’m a little fuzzy on the details…”
“At any rate, that’s going to be our story, and it persuaded the guy’s family to entertain second thoughts. Even if they managed to overcome this brilliant defense at trial, the whole world would know their son was a drug user. Possible dealer. They didn’t think it was worth it.”
“That’s fabulous.”
“That’s dumb luck, which does not in any way excuse or justify what you did. I can’t use a cop I can’t trust, Susan. I can’t use a cop who might lose it at any moment. I can’t use a cop who might be sneaking drinks on the side.”
“Chief, that’s all behind me.”
“So you’re all cured now, huh?”
“Well… yeah, I’m over it.”
“Fit as a fiddle. One hundred percent. Ready to carry a gun again. Ready to be some other cop’s partner. Ready to have someone count on you, depend on you. Ready to have someone put their life in your hands.”
I didn’t bother answering.
“I care about you, Susan. I do. And that’s why I’m saying this. I will not reinstate you. You need to get help-professional help. This may be your last chance to save yourself before you’ve lost everything.”
“I’ve already lost everything.”
“No, you haven’t. But you will if you start drinking again. Now get out of here.”
I wanted to scream. “Fine! Have it your way. You won’t see me back here begging. Not for a blue moon. Not if-”
“And try not to be so angry all the time. Relax. Read a book. Get healthy.”
I couldn’t leave without giving it one more try. I dropped a scrap of paper on his table. “I’m leaving you my new address and phone, just in case you change your mind.”
“I won’t. Go.”
Darcy walked me to the door. He still talked in that too loud voice with the odd inflections, but he seemed to have lost the stutter. “Will you be coming again in two and a half years?”
“Why-?”
“That’s what you said.”
“I said I’m never coming back here.”
“Uh-huh.” He gave me that sheepish grin again. “What you said was: ‘You won’t see me back here begging. Not for a blue moon.’ ” The amazing thing was, he not only repeated what I had said verbatim, he mimicked my inflection. Then he shifted into a colder, almost singsong tone, as if he were reciting in front of a schoolroom. “ ‘A blue moon is the second full moon in a given calendar month, which in North America occurs approximately once every forty-one months, or approximately every two and a half years.’ ”
I gave him a long look. “I’m not coming back.”
“Oh. Is the reason that you will not come back because of me?”
“Of course not.”
“ ’Cause if it is, it’s okay. I know sometimes people don’t like me. My dad says it’s not my fault, but he still yells at me sometimes. Everyone yells at me sometimes.”