Riptide

I have to stop you, Richard. I don’t want you to kill anymore.

There was a long pause. She feared he’d gone away. Then he answered, I don’t want to, either.

She needed to believe him. But she forced herself to be analytical, to approach the communication the same way she’d approached the threat letter to Marilyn Diaz. To follow the red thread wherever it might lead.

He’d already noted her association with the police. If the police were his enemies, then so was she. Why would he open up to someone working against him?

That’s good, Richard, she wrote cautiously. That’s the right way to feel.

Can’t run forever.

OK.

Need to turn myself in.

OK.

They’ll put me in a hospital.

She couldn’t dispute this. He was too smart to tolerate any lies. In the hospital you can get better, she answered.

I’ll never be free again. I’ll be alone.

Not alone. I’ll come see you.

You’re just telling me what I want to hear.

She wondered about that statement. He’d already said he wanted to stop killing. Was he just telling her what she wanted to hear? It wasn’t uncommon for a writer to project his own state of mind onto others.

I’m telling you the truth, she typed.

You’re a liar. Setting me up.

I’m being honest, Richard. The next move is up to you.

Another long pause. Genuine, or for dramatic effect?

I’ll surrender to you, he wrote. No one else. Just you. At the house.

He wanted her alone behind closed doors. He’d said she was setting him up. It looked more like it was the other way around.

Unless he was sincere. She couldn’t rule it out.

We’ll have to go to the police, she told him, just to test his reaction.

I know. You swear you won’t let them hurt me?

I’ve always looked out for you. Haven’t I?

You should have looked out for yourself. (Was his subconscious telling her to look out for herself now?) You would have lived a better life. (Look out for herself if she wanted to live?) You wouldn’t have been trapped in that old house with those old bones. (Look out for herself or be trapped like those victims from long ago?)

That’s all in the past, she wrote. We have to work together now. Will you come to the house?

I’ll come. 10 PM.

She checked her watch. It was after nine already. I’ll be there, she wrote.

Just you.

Just me.

There were no more messages. She slipped the phone into her pocket and stood thinking.

Yes, she might feel guilty. Maybe she had good reason to feel that way. But she couldn’t let guilt skew her judgment or stifle her intuition.

If anyone but her brother had sent that message, she would have read it as a threat, a trap. That was how she had to read it now. After what he’d done to Maura, she could give him no benefit of the doubt.

She found Casey in a corner of the squad room studying a map of the division. He glanced up as she approached.

“No news,” he said. “We’ve got every unit looking for him, and additional squad cars redeployed from other areas. We’re working the streets, beaches-everywhere. It’s only a matter of time.”

“I was just in contact with him.”

“What?”

“He texted me on my cell. Says he wants to give himself up. Wants to meet me alone at my house at ten PM.”

“No way. That’s not going to happen.”

“I know it’s not. But if we send a platoon of cops, he’ll never go through with it. It has to be handled differently.”

“Handled how?”

“I want you to arrest him.”

“I’ll supervise.”

“No. Just you.”

“I can’t do it alone, Jennifer. Maybe…if we bring in Draper…”

“No.”

“Why the hell not?”

“I don’t trust him to handle the situation so Richard doesn’t get hurt.”

“Because of what I told you about the civilian complaints?”

“And the domestic abuse.” And what she’d seen when she was with him today.

“Roy’s a good cop. Forget what I said. I was just blowing off steam.”

“I can’t forget. If we’re doing this, we’re going to make sure Richard doesn’t get hurt.”

“It’s impossible to guarantee that.”

“I trust you to try your best. I trust you,” she stressed. “And only you.”

“I don’t know,” Casey kept his voice low. “It’s not exactly standard procedure.”

“Screw standard procedure.” Her own vehemence surprised her. “Standard procedure is what you tried at the hotel. We can’t let him run again. We may not have another opportunity like this.”

He thought it over. “Okay,” he said finally. “I’ll take care of it. But you’re not coming. That’s nonnegotiable. If you insist on tagging along, the deal’s off.”

She’d expected as much. “I understand.”

“You’re staying here in the station until I get back. And you have to keep your mouth shut about what’s going on. We’re looking at some serious blowback unless this is handled just right.”

“Got it.” She handed over her house keys. “These will let you in. You might want to use the back door so nobody sees you enter. The smallest key fits the lock on the gate to the backyard.”

Casey pocketed the keys. “Sit tight. With any luck, this’ll all be over soon.”

She watched him walk away. She gave him five minutes to get into his car and drive off.

Then she walked out of the squad room and down the hall to the rear door that led to the parking lot. Her car was still parked where she’d left it after driving over from the library. And though she’d given Casey her house keys, she’d retained the car key, which she kept on a separate ring.

She got into the Prius and started the engine.

Of course she wasn’t going to sit around until Richard was in custody. He had been there for her when she needed him most, and she would be there for him now, whatever the risk. It might be guilt that was motivating her, or it might be love.

When it came to family, maybe there was no difference.

thirty-six