No, if anyone would have retribution this night, it was to be himself. And the young woman whose brutal rape went unpunished a year ago. Renee Dexter.
And, of course, Leah.
He rolled the platform up the ramp into the van on top of the thick plastic he’d laid down. Bloodstains were so difficult to remove from carpet fibers, and the police had ways of detecting trace amounts even after a carpet had been thoroughly cleaned.
As a final step, he patted down Skinner’s pockets, retrieving a set of keys, an electronic organizer, and a gun that looked more like a water pistol than a real firearm.
„Why… why are you… doing this?“ Skinner demanded, his face a contorted mask of agony. „Take… my wallet… please…just… let me… go.“
He chuckled, closed the van doors, pocketed the organizer, and tossed Skinner’s keys onto the front seat of the Cadillac. Left with the keys in view, the car would be gone by dawn.
He checked his watch a final time. Less than seven minutes for the whole second act. King had been eight minutes twenty. He was improving.
Thursday, February 19,
10:30 p.m.
From his car Abe stared up at his apartment building, at the dark concrete that seemed to loom into the sky. In reality it was only a twenty-story building. His apartment was on the seventeenth floor. He had a bed, a recliner chair, and a television set. With cable – 250 channels. He hadn’t turned the television on in more than six months. It was an empty shell, a place he came to sleep.
He sighed, the sound rife with frustration. He didn’t have pictures of family in his place, either. They were all in boxes, in storage. He’d put them there himself the day before he’d transferred the keys to the house to its new owners. The house he’d bought with Debra, with the swingset in the yard and the nursery Debra had just started to decorate in baby blue.
Kristen Mayhew had her little shed in the backyard.
He had the Chicagoland U-Store-It in Melrose Park. I am a first-class hypocrite.
He glanced at the clock on his dash, then at the empty bowls on his passenger seat. His mom stayed up late sometimes, usually when Aidan or his dad were pulling night patrols. Or me, he thought, remembering all the times he’d dropped by for breakfast after his shift to find her dozing in her favorite chair, the movie she’d started watching long since over.
Without another glance up, he backed out of his space. Twenty minutes later he pulled into his parents’ driveway. Sure enough, the light was still on and his key still worked in the front door. It had been a long time since he’d let him-self in after midnight, before he and Debra were married. Sure enough, his mom was dozing in her favorite chair. Some things truly didn’t change. He put the empty bowls in the kitchen sink, then covered his mother up with an afghan. She stirred, then jerked awake, her eyes widening at the sight of him.
„What’s wrong?“
He crouched down. „Nothing. I needed to bring back the bowls.“
Her eyes narrowed. „It could have waited till Sunday. What’s wrong?“
He took her hand, linked his fingers through hers. „Nothing. I just missed you.“
She smiled, squeezed his hand. „I missed you, too. How was your meeting?“
„Busy. Your cabbage casserole was a big hit.“
„Good. Nobody teased you about your mommy bringing dinner?“
He grinned. „Hell, no. They want you to join the team.“
She grinned back, then her expression went sly. „So… what about Miss Mayhew?“
Abe went for obtuse even though he knew exactly what she meant. „She got there too late to try the casserole. Mia had eaten everything but the vegetables.“
His mother shook her head. „Not what I meant. She’s pretty. Smart, too.“
He should have known her sharp eyes had missed none of his and Kristen’s exchange. „Yes, she is, Mom.“
„You didn’t like it when she ignored you.“
She knew him so well. „No, I didn’t.“
Her face settled to serene. „Do you want me to fix you a snack?“
He pulled her to her feet. „No, I want you to go to bed.“
She grimaced. „Your father snores.“
„I do not.“ Kyle Reagan appeared, scratching his broadening belly.
„He does, too!“ The scornful shout came from behind Rachel’s closed bedroom door.
„What’re you doing awake this time of night, young lady?“ his father demanded.
Rachel stuck her head out the door and Abe blinked at the sight of his baby sister in nothing but an oversized T-shirt. She had grown up. My God. She’s only thirteen and she looks seventeen. He wondered if his father had cleaned his gun recently. She’d done something different with her dark hair and there were traces of smudged mascara around her blue eyes, which were rolling in a display of great patience. „Like I could sleep with all this noise,“ she said. „Not.“ She eyed Abe carefully. „Hiya, Abe. Good to have you back.“
She wanted something. That much hadn’t changed in the last year. „Hi, Rach.“
„So can you get me an interview or not?“
Abe blinked again. „With who?“
„Whom,“ Rachel corrected archly, and it was Abe’s turn to roll his eyes.
„Whatever. With whom?“
„With Kristen Mayhew. Mom says the two of you are tight“
Abe winced at the idea. „You want to interview Kristen Mayhew, like with a camera?“
„No, not like with a camera. Like with a pencil. We have to do a project on the career we want and interview somebody who’s doing it. I want to be a lawyer. Miss Mayhew is a lawyer.“
„Damn lawyers,“ Kyle grumbled. „Cops arrest ‘em, lawyers in suits let ‘em go.“
Rachel shook her head. „Not this lawyer, Daddy. She has the highest conviction rate in her office.“ She lifted eyebrows that Abe sworn hadn’t been that severely tweezed last time he’d been home. „So? Can you get me an interview or not?“
I can’t even get her to call me by my first name, Abe thought. „I don’t know,“ he answered honestly. „I can ask.“
„She spoke last year at the University of Chicago Law Commencement,“ Rachel said and Kyle disappeared into the kitchen, still grumbling about lawyers.
Abe had trouble picturing that. „She did?“
Rachel nodded vigorously, her dangling earrings dancing wildly. „I did an Internet search and found her speech in one of the university’s newsletters. She said that mentoring young people was one of the greatest things the graduating class could do to keep the pipeline full of diverse talent.“
„She did?“
Rachel rolled her eyes again and Abe caught his mother smothering a grin. „What, is there an echo in here?“ Rachel asked, sounding just like their father. „Yes, she did. So I’ll bet she’d just love to help a young person like me.“ Her face softened into a winsome smile that he’d never been able to deny. „Please, Abe, pretty please?“
Abe exhaled helplessly. „I’ll ask her, Rach. But don’t be disappointed if she says no. She’s a busy lady.“
Rachel tilted her head forward conspiratorially. „I bet you could invite her over for Sunday dinner. Mom’s making a great big ham. Everybody’s got to eat.“