"I want to hear it again. No jokes, no wisecracks."
Slowly he said, "I ain't got her."
"You swear?"
"On a stack of Bibles and my mama's life."
"Your mother is dead."
"Figure of speech."
A moment passed as she considered everything she knew or thought she knew about Justin Gray.
"Okay," she said.
"You believe me?"
"Maybe."
"Well, it's a start. If you'd said yes, I'd've known you was lying. So what you gonna do now, Doc?"
"Find Meg."
"Sounds like a plan. Good luck with that."
"You said we could put our heads together. Maybe we can."
"You're bullshitting me again."
"If you were serious about what you said, prove it."
"How?"
"Let me see you."
"So you can throw a net on me. Put a spotlight on old Justin for your cop friend that's with you."
"If you want me to trust you, then you have to trust me."
A beat of silence passed, and she thought she'd lost him.
"Deal," he said. "Turn around. You wanna see me, you're looking the wrong way."
She turned, peering toward the rear of the arcade.
"See the sign for the toilets? Pan down, zoom in."
She spotted him on a pay phone near the rest rooms. He'd changed out of the clothes he'd stolen. He was looking directly at her.
"Ta-da," said the voice on the phone.
"Let me talk to you, Justin."
"What do you think we're doing?"
"Face-to-face. Up close. Let me get near you."
"More of this trust business?"
"Yes."
He crooked the phone under his chin and spread his arms in a gesture of resignation. "What the hey. Come on over."
Holding the cell phone to her ear, she moved out of the alcove and into the press of the crowd. He was repeatedly eclipsed by shifting faces and bodies, and each time she thought he'd vanished for good, but always he reemerged, still standing by the phone, watching her with a wary, quizzical look.
Why was she doing this? Why risk getting closer to him? She knew the answer. It was the same thing she'd told him last nightI don't do therapy over the phone.
To treat someone, she had to see him, watch his expression, his body language. She had to be close to his personal space.
"Don't get spooked, Justin," she said into the cell phone. "I'm almost there."
Over the crashing noise, she heard him snort. "I don't spook that easy."
The crowd thinned as she approached the hallway to the rest rooms. She could see Gray clearly now. Less than fifteen feet separated them.
"Whose blood was on the screwdriver?" she asked, speaking to him directly, not into the phone.
"Say what?"
"The screwdriver. It had blood on it. If you didn't kill the deputy, whose blood was it?"
"Mr. Cool's."
"You stabbed him?"
"Nicked him. In the arm. I told you we tussled."
"You didn't say anything about stabbing him."
"Wasn't hardly a stab. Shit, I got paper cuts worse 'n that."
She took another step toward him, narrowing the gap. "You understand why I have trouble believing you."
His shoulders lifted. "Yeah, I guess. But I could've iced you in your office. Shit, could've done it here, after I laid eyes on you. You're still breathing. That counts for something, don't it?"
She drew closer. "It counts."
He hung up the phone and stood staring at her from ten feet away. "Now what, Doc?"
"You talked about working together."
"I'm up for it. But you ain't never gonna work with me."
"Why not?"
"Ain't your style. You're a straight arrow. You don't pal around with a bad boy like me."
"If you think so, then why are you even talking to me?"
His brow wrinkled. "You shrinks ask good questions, you know? They teach that in shrink school?"
"Among other things. Why talk to me, Justin? Why call? What do you want?"
"I guess amp; I want you to believe me."
"Why does that matter? You're still a wanted man, whether you attacked me and the deputy or not."
"Right as rain on that one. Maybe I shouldn't care."
"Maybe you and I have more of a connection than you thought." She advanced again. "Maybe that's why it matters what I think of you."
"Don't go putting up a statue of yourself just yet, Doc. I'm a long way from cured, if that's what you're getting at."
"Maybe"another step"you're closer to a resolution of your problems than you want to admit."
He was five feet away, almost within reach. She could see his eyes. They flickered with new thoughts, new possibilities. She might be getting through to him.
"Know what I think?" Gray said. "I think it was a cop."
She stopped. "What?"
"Mr. Cool. I smell bacon."
"Why would you say that?"
"Who else knew you were brain-scannin' me between three and four this afternoon? It's not exactly public knowledge. This bozo had to know that shit if he was gonna pin the rap on me. There any reason the cops might be pissed at you?"
"There might be," she said cautiously.
"In that case, I wouldn't trust 'em to find Meg."
"We're only talking about one police officer."
"One guy?" His eyebrows lifted. "Your patienthe's a cop, is that it? You're branching out from us cons, going for a higher quality of clientele?"
"I can't talk about that."
"Yeah, he's a cop. And you figure he's working this thing alone?"
"Why wouldn't he be?"
"Somebody goes after youand Meg disappears the same time? Sounds like a conspiracy to me."
"I don't believe in conspiracies."
"Hey, I don't believe in jock itch, but I still got it. If the cops are on your ass, you can't expect 'em to find Meg. They might be the ones that have her."
"I have to trust somebody."
"Sure you do. Trust me."
"You're a killer, Justin."
"But I ain't a cop. Tell me who you think might be doing this number on you and Meg. Give me a name. I'll do the rest."
"I can't work with you that way. But amp; but I can help you."
"You're missing the bus, Doc. I'm the one who can help you. And maybe I will, just out of the goodness of my"
His gaze snapped past her, and his face changed.
"Fuck," Gray said, turning.
Robin looked back and saw Wolper and Brand emerging from the crowd, guns drawn.
She looked at Gray again, but he was already sprinting down the hall.
The two cops blew past her, chuffing air. She grabbed at Wolper, wanting to stop him, tell him how close she'd been to a breakthrough, but her fingers failed to close over his flapping sleeve, and then he was gone.
"Police, freeze!" he shouted as Gray dodged down a side hallway, out of sight.
He was gone. Wolper and Brand might catch him, but if they didn't amp;
Then Gray would remain at large. And he would never trust her again.
Chapter Forty-three
Wolper pulled out his cell phone and called 911, identifying himself as a police officer. "I'm in pursuit of the fugitive Justin Gray. Request patrol units at the corner of Hollywood and Cahuenga. Gray is inside the video arcade, rear of the building."
"Dispatching units now," the 911 operator said.
"Patch me through to Dispatch."
He and Brand rounded another corner and saw an exterior door swinging shut.
"Control," a new voice on the phone said, using the official term for the dispatchers' command center.