He held up a bakery bag, then set it aside on the hall table so he could take his coat off.
“What is it?”
“Doughnuts,” he said with that crooked fraction of a smile. “What else would a cop bring?”
“You’re perpetuating the stereotype,” Carey said, finding a smile of her own, chuckling a little.
“Somebody has to uphold tradition. You got coffee?” he asked, heading for the kitchen.
“You know where it is.”
Carey followed him down the hall, bringing the bag of doughnuts. She watched him find everything he needed to make a pot of coffee. As the machine began to gurgle and spit, he turned around to face her.
He looked different in jeans and a sweater. Younger, she thought. Less like he had the weight of the world on his shoulders.
“So, Bobby Haas, huh?” she said.
“Yeah. Bobby Haas.”
Carey shook her head. “Who would ever look at that boy and believe he could do the things he did to Marlene Haas and those children? It’s like something out of a horror movie. That he would even have those thoughts in his head makes me feel sick.”
“What can you say?” Kovac shrugged. “Some of them just don’t hatch right.”
“Do you believe that? That evil is born, not made?”
“Honey, I’ve seen the worst things humans can do to one another,” he said. “Bobby Haas didn’t rape and torture and mutilate his victims because he wet his pants when he was twelve.
“He had those thoughts brewing in his head for a long time. He had that fantasy honed like a knife by the time he acted it out.”
“And he almost got away with it,” Carey murmured. “You know if Dahl had gone to trial, he would have been convicted.”
“Did you think he did it?” Kovac asked. “Dahl?”
“I should decline to answer that,” she said. “But yes. Yes, I did. Everyone did.”
“Yet you seemed to bend over backward to cut the defense a break. Why?”
“Because what if he was innocent?” she said. “And as it turned out, he was.”
“I couldn’t have your job,” Kovac said. “I couldn’t do it. I couldn’t be impartial.”
“And that’s why you’re a cop and I’m not.”
He poured them each a mug of coffee. Carey reached into a cupboard, pulled out a plate, and arranged the doughnuts. The domesticity of what they were doing gave her comfort in some way. A simple, everyday kind of routine.
“Where’s Lucy?” Kovac asked.
“Asleep in the family room. Let’s go back. I don’t want her to wake up and not have me there.”
“How’s she doing with all this?” Kovac lowered his voice as they went into the room.
Lucy hadn’t moved, nor had her thumb.
“Her whole world has turned upside down… and there’s nothing I can do about it.”
Carey closed her eyes and put a hand across her mouth, trying to hold back tears that wanted to drown her. She had done a fair job of keeping herself together when Lucy had been awake and watching her. But her defenses were down; she was exhausted and overwhelmed.
Without even thinking, she turned to Kovac and pressed her face into his shoulder.
Without even thinking, he put his arms around her, and held her, and stroked her hair, and told her everything would be all right. Whether it would be or not didn’t matter. What mattered was that someone strong was there to take the weight for a few moments.
Sniffing, wiping the tears from her face with her hands, Carey stepped back.
“All I ever seem to do is cry in front of you,” she said.
Kovac handed her a napkin from the plate with the doughnuts. “That’s okay. At least you have good reason. Unlike my first wife, who would just burst into tears at the sight of me.”
She managed a laugh as she curled into the corner of the couch where Lucy was sleeping. “No, she didn’t.”
Kovac sat down directly across from her on the big leather ottoman that served as seating and coffee table, and leaned his elbows on his knees.
“Have you heard from David?” he asked.
“No, I haven’t.”
Kovac shook his head. Carey held up a hand. “Let’s not.”
That the man with whom she had spent a decade of her life sharing intimacy, having a child, couldn’t bring himself to call her and ask after her. What was there to say about that?
“I’m sorry he turned out to be what he is,” Kovac said.
“Me too.”
Lucy stirred and sat up, blinking and rubbing at her big blue eyes. She looked directly at Kovac, imperious, as if she was offended by his presence.
“Hello, Princess Lucy,” he said.
“I’m not a princess anymore,” she announced, clearly unhappy at her fall in status.
“Why aren’t you a princess?” Kovac asked. “You look like a princess to me.”
She shook her head and cuddled against her mother. Carey stroked her hair. “Say hello to Detective Kovac, sweetie. Be polite.”
Lucy looked up at him from under her lowered brow. “Hello, Detective Sam.”
“Hello.” He had that look again, like he half thought the child would leap out and bite him. “How come you’re not a princess anymore?”
“Because.” Lucy looked away.
“Did something happen, and you decided not to be a princess anymore?”
Lucy nodded and tucked herself tighter against Carey. “I got afraid,” she said in the tiniest of voices.
“You got afraid,” Kovac repeated, as serious as if he were interviewing a witness. “It’s okay to be afraid. Your mom gets afraid. I get afraid.”
“You get afraid?” Lucy asked, looking dubious. She thought about it and finally pronounced: “Then you’re not a princess either.”
“Well, no, I’m not.”
“We’re pretending we’re having a sleepover,” Lucy told him. “You can stay with us if you want.”
Kovac hid his laugh behind his hand. “No, I can’t,” he said. “But thanks for asking. I really should be going. I just came over to check up on you and your mom. And to bring you some doughnuts.”
Lucy caught sight of the plate and lit up. “Doughnuts!”
“One,” Carey instructed. She unfolded herself from the couch and followed Kovac back out to the hall.
“Thank you, Sam,” she said quietly. “For coming over. For the doughnuts. For everything.”
Kovac shrugged into his coat. “All in a day’s…”
“No. Above and beyond.”
“You’ve got my numbers,” he said. “If you need me, call me. I’ll be here before you can hang up the phone.”
Carey nodded.
He turned toward the door and started to open it.
“And what if I don’t need you?” she asked. “Can I call you anyway?”
Kovac blushed a little, looked everywhere but at her, struggled to fight off a smile.
“Yeah,” he said at last. “Like I said-I’ll be here before you can hang up the phone.”
70
THE TASK FORCE met the following day just before the change of shift to go over the case, which had become multiple cases. Like cancer, the evil had grown, metastasized, and touched too many lives.
