“He’s right, you know, love,” Paula said. “A person overlooks a lot of things in a brother or sister. We make excuses for our own, maybe when we should be helping.”
“I suppose so,” Sarah said. “How did he find me?”
“We think he got your address through a computer bulletin-board. It makes sense. He didn’t speak, so he couldn’t go around asking. And a bulletin-board would be more discreet, too.”
Sarah cleared the plates and passed out more beer, then she helped herself to another glass of wine. The way things were going, she felt she needed it. The hell with the diet. She’d start her new regimen tomorrow.
They all drifted away from the table and sat in the lounge chairs, listening to the waves and looking out at the diamonds dancing in the sea.
Love. Love. Love. Sarah would never, so long as she lived, understand love. She loved her family, no matter what. They were kin and blood, and she was happy they were with her now. In his way, she supposed Mitch Cameron had also loved his disturbed, silent half-brother, Mark, too.
And she had loved Gary, yet she had watched that love die the way a patient, anesthetized but still conscious, might watch a surgeon cut out a malignant tumor. They say that happens sometimes, that you wake up during an operation and feel it, but you’re still paralyzed by the anesthetic and you can’t communicate your pain. That was what happened. And she had walked away. Since then, family aside, she hadn’t been capable of loving anyone. Maybe that, too, would change.
And unknown to her, someone had been standing in the wings taking it all in, twisting and coloring it all until it took on the form he wanted and needed for his own obsession. And in his own way, this someone had loved her. Mark Lister had loved her so much that he had killed for her. Now he had died for her, too.
No, she would never understand love.
She felt someone nudge her. It was Paula. “Sorry, I was miles away.”
“He’s going now,” she said, nodding toward Arvo.
Sarah stood up. “Oh, must you?”
“I’ve got a few things to do.”
“Okay. Let me see you out.”
“No need,” Arvo said.
Sarah stood awkwardly. “Well, then... ” she said. She might never have another reason to see this man again. She didn’t even know if she wanted to. She liked him now, but the thought of a relationship, even a date, terrified her.
And she had a feeling that he might be involved with Maria. She didn’t know why, it was just something she had sensed when she saw them together, something in the way they related to one another.
On the other hand, Sarah did feel something between herself and Arvo, some kind of spark, and after everything that had happened, she didn’t feel she could bear it if he just walked away, right out of her life forever.
Christ, she was shifting from one foot to another like a silly teenager. She could feel Paula mentally urging her to say something.
But Arvo spoke first. “What next?” he asked.
“Work,” she said, feeling silly as soon as the word was out. “I mean, I’ve got a lot of work to catch up on, what with Jack’s replacement and all. We’re really behind. The public can only stand reruns for so long.”
“Right,” he said. “Well, good luck.” He stuck out his hand, and they shook.
Arvo began to walk through the sliding glass doors toward his car. Paula nudged Sarah and pointed after him. “Go on,” she mouthed.
Then, like that policeman on television, the one with the rumpled raincoat, Arvo popped his head back through the doors. “Just one more thing before I go,” he said.
“Yes?”
“Do you think I could give you that driving lesson sometime? And maybe afterwards we could go to dinner?”
Sarah found herself smiling. “Yes,” she said. “Yes, to both. I’d like that.”
“Have you got a friend?” Paula yelled after him as he left, then collapsed giggling on her lounge chair.
The children came running up the steps, smelling of the salt water and making wet footprints on the wooden deck. Sarah could still smell traces of the Indian spices from the meal. She took another sip of wine.
There was a lot to take in, yes, and a lot of personal demons to grapple with. But today the sun was shining, the waves were crashing on the beach, her family was with her, she still had her job, Stuart was recovering, and a handsome man was going to give her a driving lesson. On the whole, she thought, allowing herself a private smile, things weren’t looking too bad right now. Things weren’t looking too bad at all.
Acknowledgments
I would like to thank lieutenant John Lane and other members of the Threat Management Unit of the LAPD for being so generous with their time and expertise; also, thanks to Detective Dennis Payne of the Robbery-Homicide Department, LAPD.
Special thanks are due to Patricia McFall, Michael Connelly and Richard and Barbara Matthews for reading and commenting on earlier drafts of the manuscript, and to Linda Grant for her help with the San Francisco chapters.
So many people extended their kindness and hospitality on my visits to Los Angeles; in addition to the above I would especially like to thank Wendi Matthews for the studio tour, Karen and Eric Ende for their support, and Timothy Appleby and Sheila Whyte for the Laguna Canyon drive.
Any errors are entirely my own and were made purely in the interests of dramatic fiction.