“I mean it, Frank. Don’t fuck with me. I did you a favor transferring to Homicide without making a fuss. But if you start getting cute again, I will not hesitate to take you down.”
“You didn’t answer the question.”
“And I’m not going to,” she said. “We made a mistake. One I regret and you just can’t seem to let go of. But as far as I’m concerned, that whole conversation is permanently off the table.”
Ouch.
“All right, all right,” Blackburn said. “Don’t get your pretty little panties in a wad. I’m about as happy as you are about this situation, but I promise to behave.”
“I wish I could believe you.”
“If wishes were horses, beggars would ride.”
“What the hell does that mean?”
“My mother used to say it. Mostly around Christmas and birthdays. What it means is that you don’t always get what you want. But I’m making you a promise to be a good little soldier. And in return for that promise, I’m asking you to do me just one favor.”
She studied him dubiously. “What?”
“Loosen the fuck up.”
18
Shortly after he got off the phone with Blackburn, there was a knock at Tolan’s door. He jerked in surprise, then immediately felt foolish for allowing it to startle him.
He wasn’t normally the jumpy type. But then this situation wasn’t exactly normal, was it?
There was no mistaking Vincent’s threat.
He wanted Tolan dead.
And when someone as skilled and dangerous as Vincent Van Gogh wants you dead, well… It’s usually a matter of where and when.
Tolan stared at the link at the bottom of his computer screen.
ABBY TOLAN
He thought again of the night the police had called him. The shower running behind him, a naked stranger waiting, the sudden shame he’d felt soak into his bones as his cell phone rang.
You. You hurt me.
He hadn’t been asked to identify the body. That’s how bad it was. The killing had been so brutal, so unrelenting, that they’d been forced to confirm Abby’s identity through dental records. She had been found in her studio darkroom, her body in pieces and burned by photo chemicals.
Tolan had never seen the crime scene photos. Hadn’t wanted to. Yet when Vincent had directed him to that link, which he knew would lead him straight to the horror in Abby’s darkroom, he had to admit that he’d been tempted to look.
Only sheer willpower kept him from clicking it.
Another short knock snapped him out of his thoughts. Then the door opened and Lisa stuck her head in.
Tolan immediately closed his laptop.
“You’ve been in here half the morning,” she said. “Some of your patients are getting anxious. Especially Bobby Fremont.”
“Bobby’s always anxious. I really wish you’d be careful around him.”
“He’s not going to hurt me. I’m the only friend he has in this place. And he wants to know why you canceled group.”
“What did you tell him?”
“That you’d explain at this afternoon’s session.”
Tolan nodded. “Assuming there is one.”
She frowned at him. “What’s going on, Michael?”
“I’m expecting Detective Blackburn here within the hour. Can you make sure he gets buzzed in with a minimum of fuss?”
Lisa stepped inside now and closed the door behind her. “Goddamn it, Michael, quit avoiding my questions.”
“I’m not avoiding any—”
“Ever since I started my shift you’ve been acting strange. Is it this new patient?”
“You’ve seen her?”
“No, I’ve been busy. Is there a reason I should?”
Tolan shook his head. “This has nothing to do with her anyway.”
“Then what is it?”
He wasn’t sure why he was holding back. He hadn’t told her about Vincent’s earlier call because he’d wanted to protect her. Keep her from worrying. But that excuse seemed silly now. She was a grown-up, for godsakes, the head nurse at a respected psychiatric unit, and a bigger part of his life than he deserved. If anyone did the protecting, it was her.
Still, he was reluctant to tell her. Not just about the calls, but about Jane Doe Number 314 and everything that had happened this morning. Lisa was the only light in his world right now and he didn’t want any clouds in that particular sky.
“It’s nothing,” he said. “I’m just a little on edge, is all. Got a couple of crank calls.”
“Crank calls? From who? What did they say?”
“Nothing you need to worry about.”
Her face hardened now and he knew he’d just said the wrong thing. But he couldn’t stop himself. “It was probably just some ex-patient trying to irritate me. It’s really not that big of a deal.”
She stared at him, stone-faced. “No big deal, huh?”
“Less than that,” he said. “An annoyance.”
He could see she wasn’t buying it. “So I guess I’m an annoyance too, is that it?”
“Come on, Lisa, that isn’t fair.”
“Fair? I just want you to be straight with me, Michael.”
She was right. If it had been Abby standing there, he wouldn’t have hesitated to tell her the truth. Still, he felt the need to delay the inevitable.
“I’m sorry,” he said. “I’ll fill you in at lunch. I promise.”
She stood there a moment, saying nothing, then opened the door. She was about to step outside when she stopped. “Tell me something, Michael. Do you love me? I mean, do you really care about me?”
Oh, Christ, Tolan thought. Not this, not now. “You know I do.”
“That’s the thing,” she said. “I don’t. You make love to me, you’re very good at that. But sometimes I wonder what’s going on in that head of yours. Especially when you’re holding something back.”
He said nothing.
“I’m not here to judge you. I’ve told you that a hundred times. But if this thing we’ve got going isn’t working for you—”
“Lisa, stop. I’m sorry, but I can’t deal with this right now. I’ll tell you everything at lunch.”
She looked stung. “I guess that answers my question.”
She turned, went outside.
“Lisa, wait.”
Then she closed the door.
So much for that cloudless sky.
He didn’t know how long he sat there, brooding over the morning’s events, but it had begun to stir something inside of him. Something dark. Got him thinking about the true source of his guilt, the one thing about those last moments with Abby that he hadn’t yet shared with anyone. Not even Lisa.
Probably never would.
Closing his eyes, he tried to will it away, to relegate it to the periphery of his brain where it always sat, like some crouching beast. But it was too late. Damage done.
He needed a distraction.
Taking the pages from the printer tray, he folded them twice, then stood and shoved them into his back pocket. The only thing he could think to do now was to get back to work. Quickly make his rounds, then check in on Jane.
When Tolan and Lisa were undergrads at UCLA, one of their housemates remarked that most shrinks are crazier than their patients.
Maybe there was some truth to that.
19
Cassie was in the observation booth, fiddling with the controls on the computer cam. There were two small video cameras mounted in the seclusion room, broadcasting a wide angle and overhead view. Tolan had had them installed shortly after he took over as director, thinking that the more eyes they kept on their problem patients, the better off they’d be.