Never Knowing

John before he kills someone again — we all do.”

“I understand, but I have a daughter. If something happened to me…” My voice broke.

Billy leaned back in the couch and let out a big breath.

“And that’s another reason we need to catch him soon — so you can stop living in fear. But if it makes you feel any better, you’re probably the one person who’s not in danger from John. You’ve done a great job at gaining his trust.” “Does he trust me, though? He still makes sure he doesn’t stay on the phone long. So why is he willing to risk meeting me?”

“It’s possible he’s setting up a meeting so he can do countersurveillance and see whether you’re working with the police. He’s a hunter, so he either stalks his prey or flushes them out. But I think he really does trust you. He’s arrogant enough to believe you would never betray him.” Prey, that’s exactly what I was to John. But I felt more like a sitting duck. My stomach rolled.

“But I am lying, and when he realizes—”

“He’ll be in handcuffs. But maybe you shouldn’t meet him, Sara. Not if you’re this scared.”

“Of course I’m scared, but that’s not it. I just … I need to think about it.”

“You should think it over.”

“And I’ve got to talk to Evan.”

“Sure, if he has any concerns I’d be happy to talk with him.”

That would go over great. But I said, “I’ll let you know.”

Billy walked me out of the station. There was no sign of Sandy, who I hoped was getting reamed out by a superior.

At the Cherokee he said, “I won’t lie to you, Sara. Meeting with John is risky, but you already know that. But I also know you’ll make the right decision in the end.” Then he closed my door.

I picked up Ally and made my way home, still trying to figure out what had just happened back at the station. Was I actually considering meeting John? Had I totally lost my mind? For the rest of the afternoon, Ally and I played at the park with Moose, but only part of me was there. My cell phone was mercifully quiet, but my head spun. Should I do it? Was I a horrible person if I didn’t? What if he killed another woman? But what if he killed me?

My mind conjured images of Ally and Evan weeping at my funeral, of Lauren raising Ally and Evan taking her for ice cream when he came home on weekends. But then there were the images of me standing bravely in a park, spotting John and speaking cryptically into a wire device. A SWAT team swarms in and wrestles him to the ground. Families of the victims call with tearful thanks, saying they’ve finally found peace.

No matter where my thoughts took me, I couldn’t get the image of Danielle’s face out of my head. I hated that Sandy used her photo to manipulate me. I hated that it worked.

Later, while Ally had her bath, Evan and I talked on the phone. When I told him John wanted to meet, his first response was, “No way, Sara. You can’t do it.”

“But what if this is the only chance to catch him?”

“You can’t risk your life like that — what about Ally?”

“I said that too, but the cops don’t think I’m in any real danger, and—”

“Of course you’re in danger. He’s a serial killer and he just murdered a woman. Isn’t he already breaking his pattern or whatever they call it?”

“They said they could protect me and they’d arrest him before we even spoke, and—”

“This isn’t your responsibility.”

“But think about it, Evan. This could get him out of our lives for good. Catching him would make me feel like I did something right. I’m in constant limbo, wondering what he’ll do next, when he’ll call, what he’ll say. You know what this is doing to me — to us. If they arrest him everything can go back to normal and we can just enjoy planning the wedding.” “I want you alive. Nothing else matters if he kills you.”

“What if the cops used another girl as a decoy or—”

“He’s seen pictures of you. If he realized it wasn’t you, he could go nuts and hurt lots of people, including you and Ally. I told you before, the police are just using you as bait. I won’t let you risk yourself like that.”

“You won’t let me?”

“You know what I mean. You’re not doing it, Sara.”

Part of me wanted to argue, the part that hated being told what to do, but a bigger part was relieved he’d made the decision for me.

“I was going to say I’ll tell them tomorrow, but they’re probably listening anyway.”

Evan shouted into the phone, “She’s not doing it.”

After that call I thought I’d hear from Billy or Sandy, but the phone was blissfully silent. The next day John called.

“Did you think about meeting me?”

“Yeah, and I still don’t think it’s a good idea. It’s too risky.”

“You said the cops don’t know.”

“But I told you last time, they might be following me.”

“They have no proof you’re my daughter and no idea we’re talking.”

God, he was smart. I was running out of ways to say no. I went back to the police excuse — it was all I had.

“They still might be watching, and—”

“Don’t you want to meet me?”

“Of course I do. But if the police are following me it could turn into a big shoot-out.”

“I’ll protect you.”

I almost laughed at the irony. The police wanted to protect me from him and he wanted to protect me from the police.

“I know. But I have a daughter — I just can’t risk my life like that.”

“What’s Ally doing right now?”

“She’s in bed.”

“Do you read stories to her?”

“All the time.”

“What’s her favorite?”

I hesitated. The police said not to lie to him, but I couldn’t stand the idea of him knowing intimate details about Ally.

“She loved Where the Wild Things Are.” She hated it.

“What’s her favorite color?”

“Pink.” Ally loves candy-apple red. Brighter the better.

“I have to go. I’ll think about our meeting.”

“No, John. I’m not going to meet you—”

But I was talking to air.

John was making his way back down south — toward me. A trucker thought he’d seen someone near the pay phone around the time of the call, but he couldn’t describe him and hadn’t seen what he was driving. I barely slept that night, feeling John drawing near, hearing his tires on the pavement. The roads deserted as he traveled in the dark.

The next day, Monday, another package arrived. Billy and Sandy came over within a half hour of my phone call. Sandy and I hadn’t spoken since she’d ambushed me at the station, so when I opened the door I only greeted