red leather cap that looked perfect on her.
“I would hate to offend the memory of my sainted mother,” he said. “That spaghetti sauce is her recipe.”
“No it’s not.”
“You’re right. It’s not. My sainted mother had trouble boiling water. But she really would have loved that sauce.”
“I still think I’ll pass,” she said, “although I no longer have to be as light on my feet as I was when I was chasing after a certain serial killer.”
“They took you off the case?”
“To all intents and purposes they did, yes.”
“Shit. I’m sorry.” Will glanced at the line, which was starting to build up, and passed across two plastic bowls of salad. “Dressings are over there,” he said. “I highly recommend the ranch and highly don’t recommend the diet Italian. Finish your salad, give me fifteen minutes, and we can blow this joint.”
“I have all the time in the world,” she said.
Along with the hospital and a remarkable antique-car museum, Will considered Steele’s Pond to be among the best things about Fredrickston. Tucked in the woods just west of the city, two miles around, Steele’s had paddleboats, a popcorn cart, and a hot-dog stand in the summer, and picture-book skating in the winter. The air, scrubbed by an afternoon of rain, was crisp and clean-perfect for a walk, Patty said. She followed him to the small parking area at the south end of the pond, locked the Camaro, and walked with him to the water’s edge. After a few silent minutes staring at the dark, still surface, she slipped her arm in his and let him guide her to the rutted dirt track that circumnavigated the pond.
“So,” she began, “sorry I left the way I did last night. My brain was threatening to explode with all that was going on inside it.”
“No problem. I enjoyed spending what time we did together.”
“Me, too. Was it okay for you to desert your post at the salad station? People were still coming in.”
“I’ve always been the last choice to be stationed at salads. Maybe it’s the hand-eye coordination required there. The trainee they replaced me with is already twice as good as I was. Benois Beane, the director, was relieved to see me go.”
“Having spoken with Benois about you, I’ll bet he’s never relieved to see you go. It’s really an amazing place. You must be so proud of what you started.”
“Thanks. It wasn’t just me, but you’re right, I am. There’s no way the little group of us all those years ago could possibly have envisioned what it was going to become.”
“In a way, it made me sad. So much poverty. I kept thinking that maybe someday it won’t be needed.”
“Wouldn’t that be something? Of course, such a world would require a few consecutive federal administrations that actually cared about educating the kids, and making sure they have jobs waiting for them when they finish school, and giving them reasons not to take drugs.”
“It’s all about having hope,” Patty said.
“It’s all about hope. So, you’re off the case?”
“Yup. The killing last night was the last straw. My CO felt a reorganization was called for. So in the beginning it was my case, and now I’m off it altogether even though I really haven’t done anything wrong, except maybe have two X chromosomes. Actually, I have my CO’s permission to stay available to Wayne Brasco, just in case he can’t read my writing on any of the three or four feet of reports, notes, and documents I’ve got to turn over to him tomorrow. Not that Brasco would be interested in
“You okay about this?”
“I don’t know. Maybe. Maybe it’s for the best. The thing I feel worst about is my father. He never wanted me to be a cop in the first place. I really wanted to be part of the team that nails this guy.”
“It’s hard. You’re playing the killer’s game by the killer’s rules, and he’s damn good at it.”
“I guess. I’m not good at dealing with failure, but I also know this isn’t some sort of contest. The blood all over that motel-room bed was quite real, and even though he was a philandering jerk, I feel awful about that surgeon. From what I can tell, he actually knew from our warning that there was potential danger last night, but apparently, seducing yet another trophy was more important to him than staying alive.”
“Do you think a woman killed him?”
“It’s certainly possible. If it was a man, Dr. Richard Leaf must have been one surprised puppy.”
They became aware of movement to their right and left a moment before three youths, two white, one black, stepped from behind trees on either side of the path. Two of them were built like football linemen. The third, considerably smaller, was wearing a Celtics jacket and a Red Sox cap. He stepped forward to confront them, his hands twitching excitedly at his sides. He had acne-scarred skin and emitted a dense aroma of marijuana. Had Will been alone, he would have spun around and taken off, but none of the three had a weapon that he could see, and Patty showed no inclination to run. Instead, she continued holding gently on to his arm. At one moment she tilted her head just enough to touch his shoulder. He could sense absolutely no tension in her.
“Well, well,” the teen said, “it appears we have visitors to our toll area. We hope you are prepared to pay.”
“What do you want?” Patty asked firmly.
“Well, that wicked hat of yours for starters, right, guys?”
“Right you are, dude.”
“And for seconds, oh. . um. . let me see. . how about. . your wallets.”
“Yeah, their wallets. Hey, good idea, dude. Good idea.”
Patty slipped her arm free of Will’s. She pinched her cap by the bill, took it off, and wearily wiped imaginary sweat off her forehead with the back of her hand. Then she set the cap back in place.
“Actually,
She slipped her hand inside her jacket, but the silent vote had already been taken. In unison, the three youths whirled and bolted off into the woods. Patty watched them go, then slipped her hand back inside Will’s arm.
“Let’s see,” she said, “where were we?”
“Why didn’t you bust them?” he asked.
“And ruin a perfectly lovely romantic walk? I don’t think so. There are plenty of punks like those around, but evenings with a handsome, funny doctor are pretty tough to come by.”
“Is your gun really in there?”
“It was, before I locked it in the trunk of my car. I try not to be packing when I take romantic walks.”
“Me, too,” Will said. “Besides, the two big ones were all blubber. I could have handled them if I had to.”
“I know. I’ve read all about your temper, remember? They’ll never know how lucky they were. Now, where were we?”
He turned and, cradling her face between his hands, set his mouth on hers and rested it there until her lips parted. Their second kiss, with Will bracing his back against the trunk of a sprawling chestnut tree, lasted a minute or more.
“Now do you see why I let them go?” Patty whispered.
“‘I see,’ said the blind man as he picked up his hammer and saw.”
“Ugh.”
“And I promise not to report you for dereliction of duty.”
Will put his arm around her, and for a time they just walked.
“You thinking about the case?” he asked finally.
“I guess there were reasons they demoted me to being Brasco’s assistant after it became apparent these were serial killings. But I haven’t done anything to deserve being dropped from the team. They needed a scapegoat.”
“Is there anything you can do about it? Can your father intervene?”
“I doubt he would, but I don’t want him to anyway. This is my gig.”
“I understand.”
