From the information he’d been able to glean from Tate, Clay determined that Walker had started out attending the camp around the age of ten, and had returned every summer thereafter, eventually moving into a position of counselor by the time he reached his late teens. That was several long years during which his abuser twisted their relationship into something that approximated caring. To a child who probably had virtually no adult attention or interest in his life, that relationship – however wrong – became a critical part of his identity.
When Tate witnessed Logan molesting Timothy Russell, a major thread of Walker’s sense of self began to unravel. When Logan was convicted and sent to prison – publically accused and punished for his criminal behavior – it forced Walker to face that what had happened between them was wrong. Psychologically, however, he couldn’t handle it. So instead of feeling anger toward the perpetrator of the crimes committed against him, he embarked on a life of using the repeated and systematic abuse of others in the most clinical way possible – as a means of gaining wealth. It both gave him an outlet for his abnormal and aggressive sexual tendencies, and yet at the same time allowed him to believe that he was firmly in control of them.
Until another thread began to unravel.
Almost a decade ago, Logan was murdered in prison.
Then just last year, another thread.
His accomplice – and though they didn’t yet have positive identification, Clay felt certain that the other man was either a friend or relative from those early days, possibly someone who’d shared similar abuse – had begun a series of mistakes which led them to flee Atlanta and take up their business in Charleston. Where, ironically enough, they’d run into Tate. Who’d driven a significant nail into their business coffin by witnessing Casey Rodriguez talking to her abductor. By drawing in himself, and the FBI.
By completely unraveling Walker’s life.
Hence, he’d gone after Tate in the worst way imaginable – by abducting her son.
And Clay had no doubt now that the man had intended to take Max out of here alive, because in his mind – even if Tate had no idea what was happening – he would be hurting her every time he abused Max. Killing Max would have been too simple, not fitting enough punishment for what he saw as her crime. By taking Max and forcing him into the same kind of twisted relationship he himself had had with Logan, he was both punishing Tate and creating a new sense of purpose for himself. And in some ways, attempting to justify his feelings for Logan.
But now, with his latest plan being thwarted after he’d gone through so much trouble to set it into motion, Clay strongly suspected that Jonathan Walker was going to come unglued. He felt there was very little chance of them using negotiation to talk the man down.
He was not going to let Max out of there alive.
Realizing this, feeling sure of his conclusion, Clay trotted over to the van near which Agent Beall was standing. Heart racing, he stepped into the other man’s line of sight. “He’s not going to negotiate,” he told him baldly. “We’re wasting our breath trying to get him to talk.”
Beall looked him up and down. “Thanks for that newsflash.” Then he turned to study some information the computer had spit out.
Clay grabbed the older agent’s arm. “Look, what I mean to say is that he will not let Max go. He will not be talked down. The longer we wait, the more time it gives him to hatch whatever plan he’s in there hatching. He’s going to… kill Max, and look for a means of ending this on his own terms.”
Beall squinted as he digested that opinion. “You think he’s suicidal?”
“No,” Clay disagreed. “I don’t. But I do feel that if that were the only option left available to him in order to stay on top of the situation, he would take it. My guess is that given no other choice, he’d choose death over going to prison. And he’d be sure to take Max with him.”
“So what are you suggesting we do?”
Clay took a deep breath, and just said it. “I know how this is going to sound, but I need to go in there.” Beall started making negative noises, but Clay talked over him and forged ahead. “I know about his background, and I have a personal connection to Max. I’m also Max’s mother’s lover. He has a need to wreak vengeance on her, and if he has me, there’s a real chance that I can provide at least enough of a distraction that one of the snipers can move in and take him out.”
Disbelief radiated. “I’m pretty sure I’ve already given you the answer to that proposition, Agent Copeland. Look, I can appreciate what you’re going through –”
“No,” Clay said. “You really can’t.”
“But,” it was Beall’s turn to bulldoze Clay. “This is precisely why you shouldn’t be part of this. Your judgment simply cannot be trusted.”
“What other choice do we have?” Clay shouted, in a rare display of losing his cool. “Just sit out here and wait for him to kill him?”
“I’m not,” Beall said evenly “going to give the okay for allowing a federal agent to sign his own death warrant.”
“Better me than that little boy! How is it going to look, sir, when they show Max’s body being carried out of that house in a black bag, right alongside your face on the five o’clock news?” Clay gestured toward the news vans which were being held back at the end of the driveway. “You know how that’s going to
