death would be a preferable alternative to divorce. Dr. Tarver's response was instantaneous: 'I think you mean an
'‘That was the beginning of our partnership. Under the influence of a moderate amount of alcohol, Dr. Tarver assured me that he could kill anyone without leaving a forensic trace. He looked on this, he said, as a sort of professional challenge and claimed that every pathologist had at some point in his life had thoughts along those lines. It was only natural, he said.
'‘Before we left Chickamauga that weekend, the basics of our plan had been worked out. I had wealthy clients coming to my office every week, begging me to spare them a huge settlement and get them more time with their children. I could judge which clients had sufficient hatred and anger to consider actually eliminating their spouses. Dr. Tarver and I would have as little contact as possible. After securing a go-order from a client, I would initiate contact by sending a false spam message to one of his e-mail accounts. The next day I would park my car at the Annandale Golf Club and play eighteen holes of golf. There would be a large packet in my trunk when I arrived. When I left, the packet would be gone. That packet contained everything about the intended victim, and all of it supplied by the victim's spouse: medical history, daily schedule, car keys, house keys, vacation plans, security codes, e-mail passwords, everything. That was the only 'contact' Tarver and I ever had, and even that involved no face-to-face interaction. It could never be proved or traced because Dr. Tarver wasn't a member of that club. He had a friend who played golf there almost every day, and Tarver could go as a guest whenever he chose. He opened the trunk with a key I gave him that first weekend at Chickamauga. I have only spoken to Dr. Tarver a few times in the past five years, and those times by pure happenstance. But together, he and I have murdered nineteen people.''
'Nineteen,' Alex breathed. 'I knew there were more.'
'Wait,' said Kaiser, his voice quickening. 'While I was reading that, Kelly handed me a note. A deputy sheriff in Forrest County just spotted Andrew Rusk's powerboat. It's being towed on a trailer behind a black Dodge pickup truck on Highway 49.'
Chris looked at the cell phone with something like hatred.
'Did he see the driver?' Alex asked.
'A bald man with a gray beard and a bright birthmark on his left cheek.'
Alex's heart began to race. 'Jesus God, we've got him.'
'No, we don't. We know where he was fifteen minutes ago.'
'The deputy's not trying to stop him, is he?'
'No. Forrest County's on the way to the Gulf Coast, right?'
'Could be. That's near Hattiesburg. It's the back way to the Coast. Did you ever get an exact location on those GPS coordinates?'
'Yes,' said Kaiser. 'That location is
'Past the reach of the Coast Guard.' Alex looked at her watch. 'Two p.m. is less than two hours away.'
'Don't worry. You're going to be there.'
Alex caught her breath. 'Seriously?'
'You and me, babe.'
She felt as though a steel band had been cut free from her chest.
'I've got a chopper on standby,' Kaiser said, panting as though he were running. 'You get upstairs to the UMC helipad. We'll take six SWAT guys from Jackson and link up with some of my guys from the New Orleans office.'
'I'm hanging up now. Don't you dare leave me behind, John. I don't care if the director forbids you pain of termination. You set that chopper down on the UMC roof.'
'I'll be there in ten minutes. You be waiting.'
'Go,' she said, and hung up.
Chris was watching her, his body completely still.
'I need to go with him, Chris. I don't want to leave you alone, but-'
'I'm all right. I have-'
Three soft knocks sounded in the room. Then the door opened a crack and a voice Alex didn't recognize said, 'Hello? Chris Shepard?'
'Yes,' she called, walking to the door.
It opened before she reached it, revealing a handsome man in his early forties with two children standing in front of him, a boy and a girl.
'I'm Penn Cage,' said the man, extending his hand. 'Tom Cage's son. Are you Alex Morse?'
She nodded and shook the hand.
'My father was having some angina this morning,' Penn said, 'so I thought Annie and I should drive Ben up to see his dad. I hope that's all right.'
Only then did Alex realize that the boy standing before her in the school uniform was Ben Shepard. 'Oh, yes. I really appreciate it.' She backed out of the way so that Chris could see his visitors.
'Penn?' Chris said from the bed. 'What…?'
Cage walked forward and gently shook Chris's hand. 'I thought Ben might like to ride up with Annie and me.'
Alex saw Chris wipe his eyes before the children got close enough to see his tears.
Annie Cage was a well-knit girl of about eleven with tawny hair and wise eyes. She took Ben's hand to lead him to his father's bed, and to Alex's surprise, Ben allowed it.
'Hey, buddy,' Chris said weakly.
Ben's face was red. He was about to cry. 'Are you sick, Dad?'
'Just a little. But I'm going to be fine in a couple of days. How are you doing?'
Ben nodded. 'The mayor brought me to see you.'
'I see that. Hello, Annie.'
'Hi, Dr. Chris,' Annie Cage replied.
Penn smiled, then touched Annie's shoulder and pulled her back toward him. 'I think we're going to let you two visit for a while.'
Chris looked up gratefully.
'Do you need anything?' Penn asked. 'A Coke or something?'
'No, thanks.'
'We'll see you in a while, then.'
With a pointed look at Alex, Penn backed into the hall with Annie in tow.
Chris put his hand on Ben's shoulder, then looked up at Alex and said, 'Go get him. And don't come back here until you have. Okay?'
Forcing down a rush of emotion, Alex nodded, then waved good-bye and walked into the hall. Penn Cage was waiting for her. Looking down the corridor, she saw his daughter sitting on a bench by the nurses' station.
'How bad is he?' Penn asked.
'He could die.'
Penn blew air from his cheeks. 'Is there anything I can do to help you? I'm not just saying that. I used to be a prosecutor in Houston, and I have a lot of contacts in federal law enforcement.'
Alex suddenly realized that Penn Cage was the lawyer who had destroyed a former director of the FBI, by implicating him in a civil rights murder cover-up that dated to the 1960s. 'I wish you'd made that offer a week ago.'
Cage's eyes burned with surprising intensity. 'I'm making it now. You tell me what Dr. Shepard needs, I'll do everything in my power to get it or make it happen.'
Alex glanced at her watch, her mind on Kaiser's chopper. 'Do you know Chris well?'
'Not as well as I'd like. But my father says he's as fine a man as he's ever worked with. That's saying something.'
