“That’s not true.” He said it slowly, his voice thickening, his eyes taking on a sheen. “I loved my son’s mother.”
“You can’t even say his name. You don’t know which name to use. He never really had one,” she added. Neither had she. They hadn’t named her so she’d remain nothing.
“He told us everything.”
“He wouldn’t do that.”
“Oh yes, he would.” Some of her fatigue came through, so she used it and angled it toward a kind of boredom. “In his twisted way, he was making you a hero.” She walked back, leaned down. “He was bragging about you, Vance. How you taught him everything, told him everything. How you found your targets together. How you did the stalking, the research, shared that with him. How you planned it all out.
“And even if I didn’t have all that-on the record…”
She began pulling items out of the box. “Discs-with data on the two people he murdered, the woman he tried to kill just today, on the one he planned to kill next week, and so on. On their families, their habits, their work, their friends.
“Very thorough.”
She pulled out stacks of photos. “Visuals of same-including the ones he took of Deena and Karlene after he’d finished with them, so he could share the triumph with you. There’s more. There’s so much more. It’s just a freaking banquet of evidence. I know an APA who’s going to be shedding tears of joy.”
“I can make a deal.” He gestured with his hands, like a politician, she thought, emphasizing a talking point. “There’s a lot you don’t know. I’ll give you information.”
“Gee, that’s some offer. But, no thanks. I’ve got more than I need, and jeez, it’s been a long day already. Your prints are all over this stuff. All over it.”
He rubbed a hand over his mouth. “I’m showing remorse. He pulled me into it. He’s my son, and he needed my help. I raised him on my own, just him and me. And losing his mother the way we did, it… marked us. I was going to talk him into turning himself in, to get help.”
“Would that be after he killed Judge Mimoto’s mother today, or maybe just one or two more?”
“I didn’t know about today. About Mimoto. I… thought he was at work. He consults for Biodent, he’s a data analyst. I thought he was at work.”
“Jesus, Vance.” She paused, let out a belly laugh. “You’re so completely screwed. You have today’s hit marked on your freaking datebook like a dentist appointment.”
“I couldn’t stop him.”
“Are you just going to keep throwing this shit at the wall until something sticks?”
“I never killed anybody. That has to mean something. I helped him, sure. Okay, I helped him set it all up, but that’s all. And I’m remorseful. You can cut me a break. I never killed anybody.”
“Yes, you did.” The fatigue vanished, the boredom flipped into icy rage. “And if I could, I’d charge you with the murder of Illya Schooner, and with a kid of about four who died and became what you wanted him to be. The only break you’ll get from me is the recommendation you be placed in a cage in another sector of Omega, so you never have contact with your son. Because he’ll figure it out sooner or later, I gave him a start on that today. And once he does, he’ll turn his talents on you. So the break you get, Vance? You live.”
“I want a lawyer.”
“Subject has requested representation. Interview end.”
“There’s money,” he said as she began loading the box. “I have a lot of money hidden away. Secure. I can make it worth your while if you lose that evidence.”
“Really? My while’s worth a lot.”
“Five million.”
“So, if I tamper with this evidence so you get off, you’ll give me five million dollars?”
“Cash.”
“Thanks.” She tapped her lapel. “I guess you didn’t notice my recorder. We’ll add attempting to bribe a police office to the roll.”
He screamed at her as she walked out, ugly invectives that were music to her ears. “Walk this down to Evidence.” She passed the box to the uniform she had waiting. “And you can take that ball of puss. He wants a lawyer.”
She kept walking. Roarke met her with a tube of Pepsi.
“God, that felt good. Now I feel good.” She cracked the tube and drank deep. “Now bright sounds right.”
“Peabody called to check. I told her I thought you were wrapping things up. I’m to tell you Trina’s waiting for you.”
“Shit. That was mean of you.”
He walked with her. “You did well. You… decimated him.”
“You were in Observation? I… I felt you.”
“Where else would I be?”
This time she took his hand, laced her fingers with his. Palm to palm, she thought. He was there. He always would be.
“I know it sounds weird, but when I started to fill up with him, with my father, I felt you. I guess you could say I leaned on you. It helped me stay steady.”
He brought her hand to his lips. “Let’s you and I go find some of that bright.”
EPILOGUE
THE ROOM SMELLED LIKE A GARDEN AND SOUNDED LIKE A flock of birds-possibly chickadees-had just taken roost. Why, she wondered, did women so often sound like songbirds when they gathered together for one of their rites?
She sat, because she’d told herself it was her job to sit, in what Peabody had gleefully dubbed the Bridal Suite, while Trina slathered God-knew-what all over her face.
“Stop squirming.” Trina, her hair a puzzling maze of braids and twists in screaming red, kept slathering.
“When, by all that’s holy, are you going to stop?”
“When I’m finished. This product is going to help ease the bruising and cover it up. You could’ve at least tried not to get hit in the face right before the wedding.”
“Oh yeah, I should’ve tried harder not to get caught in a human stampede since a black eye doesn’t go with my dress.”
“What I’m saying,” Trina agreed. “It’s not so bad. We got a lot of it treated last night when you finally got here.”
“Would you get off my ass? Murderers, two vicious killers behind bars.”
“I’ll add it to your scorecard,” Trina said and snapped her gum.
Peabody, her hair glossed and curled, her square-jawed face polished and painted, peered over Trina’s shoulder. “You can hardly see it. Plus, it makes her skin all dewy.”
“Wait till I add the base.”
“More? I already have an inch troweled on. Why can’t I-”