“You know what you choose to know,” Marion replied.
“And you see what you choose to see,” Karen said. “McKinnon wanted to see MC124 as saving the world and his own career. He couldn’t bear the idea that it was flawed, and that made him quite willing to be fooled by Doug. Dugan was trained to see breaches in company security, and that’s what he saw when he looked at Sheila. You saw Dugan’s guilt, Marion, and you keep on seeing it. I don’t mean to single you out — we all do it. I don’t know what the solution is, except to look at the results. Just take an honest look at the results.”
I dropped Karen off at her apartment and we said our good-byes, at least for the time being. I had a feeling I was going to miss her honesty and her clear-eyed readiness.
I thought about what she had said at Marion’s house. Earlier in the day, I’d picked up a message from Jenny on my answering machine. Her voice was back to its old chirpy self. She told me not to worry about the mess in her apartment: it gave her a chance to get new curtains and new lamps. She hoped I was safe and that Sheila’s murder had been resolved.
Jenny sounded back in charge of her life. I was glad for that, even though things had become difficult between us. I didn’t want her to feel bad. But the congeniality of her voice masked something else. She’d taken some kind of decision, and I had a good idea what it was. She’d decided to break off our relationship. It wouldn’t surprise me. I wasn’t who she thought I was, she’d tell me. And I would agree, without rancor.
The time had come for us to separate what we wanted to see in each other from who we actually were. I wasn’t who I thought I was just two weeks ago, when I’d been in search of bearings. As awful as Sheila’s death and all that came after it had been, they had propelled me into a new state. The compass needle was vibrating. I was getting a reading.
I pointed the Scout west across the valley. The sun was setting and it shot straight into my eyes. The turn to Jenny’s apartment came and went on my left. I felt no urge to hit my blinker. The ramp for 280, the freeway to San Francisco, came along soon after. I flipped up the blinker handle, turned right onto the ramp, and headed north.