Victim

by Gayle Wilson

  "I can't afford that. Or food for an animal. Explain that to him, too, while you're at it. I don't seem to have much success explaining things to him."

  "Of course," Sarah said, keeping her tone carefully neutral.

  Instead of inviting her to come in, Mrs. Ingersoll closed the door in her face. Sarah released a long, slow breath, telling herself she was doing this for Dwight, who had little enough to look forward to. If she could manage to add any joy to his sad existence—

  The boy stepped out into the hall, pulling the door almost closed behind him. Without saying a word to Sarah, he bent, putting his arms around Toby and burying his face in his thick fur. After a moment, he turned his head so that his cheek lay against the clog's neck.

  "I miss you so much." The soft words were obviously intended for the animal.

  Although Toby could by no stretch of the imagination be classified as calm in temperament, he sat perfectly still while the little boy hugged him. Finally Dwight looked up at Sarah, his eyes shining.

  "I think he missed me."

  "I think he did."

  "Can we go throw the ball for him? Just for a minute or two. I think my mother would let me as long as I'm with you."

  Remembering the scene in the park, Sarah shook her head, softening the denial with a smile. And a promise she hadn't meant to give. "I'll bring him back, and we'll go to the park another afternoon. Is it all right if Detective Donovan comes with us?"

  No matter what Tate had intended to convey by what he'd done tonight, he'd made one thing perfectly clear. He knew about Dwight. And he knew about her connection to him.

  "Sure. You said he was Toby's friend, too. We can share him."

  "I think there's enough of Toby to go around." She lowered her voice. "Don't tell Detective Donovan, but I'm pretty sure Toby likes you better."

  "I know he does." Mac said as he descended the last of the stairs. "He told me so."

  "Toby doesn't talk. Dogs can't talk." Dwight's smile indicated his pride in knowing that was a joke.

  "Well, if he did" Mac said, "that's what he'd say. And now he needs to say, 'Good night." It's past his bedtime."

  "And yours." Just as she'd been unable to resist the quick hug she'd given him, Sarah put her hand on Dwight's head, tousling the badly cut hair. "Sleep tight. And have very sweet dreams."

  "Good night. Toby." The boy again wrapped his arms around the dog's neck. "See you soon."

  "You remember what I told you. Dwight. Okay?"

  "I'll remember."

  "Tell your mother to lock up." Mac reminded.

  "She will. She doesn't like those people on the second floor."

  The boy opened the door, and then he stopped, turning back to look at Sarah. "I forgot to ask you."

  "Ask me what?"

  "What that man said for me to ask you."

  The cold that had knotted her stomach when Mac told her the boy was missing was suddenly there again. The only man she and Dwight had discussed tonight—

  "You mean the one who gave you the note?"

  Dwight nodded. "He said that when I saw you to be sure and ask you whether you liked what he did for you."

  For a few long heartbeats neither she nor Mac said anything. Maybe he was doing what she was doing— trying to figure out exactly what Tate's question meant. And trying to figure out how to answer Dwight.

  "What he did for Sarah?" Mac repeated. "Are you sure that's what he said, Dwight?"

  "I'm sure. He made me say it back to him. Ask her whether she liked what I did for her."

  "What did you think he meant?"

  The boy shrugged. "Giving me the note, I guess."

  "Then the answer is I didn't like it at all," Sarah said. "Because he lied to you. I didn't send you that note, Dwight. He shouldn't have told you I did. And because he told you that, you went out when you shouldn't have and got into trouble."

  "Then if he asks me again. I should tell him you didn't like it at all?"

  "If you see him again. Dwight, you shouldn't talk to him. He's not a good man. You should run away very fast if you see him."

  "Never talk to strangers." The boy repeated the phrase like a mantra.

  "That's right," Mac said. "And even though you've talked to him before, he's still a stranger. And he's still a bad man. You understand?"

  The boy nodded, blue eyes moving from one of them to the other.

  "Now you go on back inside and get ready for bed." Sarah said. "We'll come back another day and play ball."

  "Tomorrow?"

  "If not tomorrow, then soon. I promise."

  "Okay, then. Good night. Good night. Toby."

  He slipped inside the apartment. Sarah waited until she heard the lock turn and the chain being put into place before she turned to Mac.

  "Was Tate talking about Dwight? About taking the other boy and not him?"

  "I don't know." Mac took her arm, leading her toward the outside door. "Whatever he was talking about," he said as he opened it for her. "I don't like the idea of that bastard asking you anything."

  As soon as they were outside, he turned and removed the wedge that was used to keep the front door to the building open. Then he took his phone out and flipped the case open again.

  "Who are you calling?"

  "Sonny. He needs to hear this."

  Sarah used the leash to hold Toby close to her although he had begun his "go to the park" countdown. Standing on the stoop, she realized it had grown even colder while they'd been inside.

  She looked across the street, trying to see if the floodlights the police had used were still in the park, but she couldn't tell from here. She glanced at Mac, but he was still waiting for someone to pick up.

  "Can you call from inside the car?" To emphasize her point, she hunched inside her jacket.

  "He's not answering anyway." Mac closed his cell, sticking it back in his pocket. He took her arm and started down the steps. "We need to walk him again?"

  "Force of habit. We come out that door, he thinks he has to pee. He'll be okay until we get to your place."

  "Still cold?"

  "Cold. Tired. Hungry. Angry."

  "Angry?"

  "He's playing with me, and he's using Dwight to do it. And there's nothing I can do about it."

  She had had her chance, and she'd blown it. It was all well and good to blame Mac, but there had been time to pull the trigger before he reached her. Dan hadn't been right about many things in his life, but he'd been right about that one. Shoot, don't talk. If she had—

  "Maybe there is."

  "Like what?"

  He didn't answer, opening the back door to put Toby into the car instead. Then he opened hers, waiting for her to slide into its relative warmth before he closed the door and walked around the front.

  He stopped before he opened the driver's side, scanning the area. When he finally got in. he turned the key in the ignition and began fiddling with the heater.

  "Like what?" she repeated.

  "I need to talk to some people first." He pulled away from the curb, easing the car into the street.

  "What people? What does that mean?"

  "The FBI. There's a profiler there who's been working with the task force. I need to ask him some things."

  "Concerning what I can do about Tate?" She must have missed something because the conversation seemed to have jumped the track.

  "Concerning what we can do about him."

  "I don't understand."

  He turned to meet her eyes. "I don't think he's ever done anything like that before. It's another break in the pattern. That has to be significant."

  "Anything like what? Like talking to Dwight? Like the note?"

  "That. And the rest. Your ex-husband. Leaving the message on your answering machine. It's all aberrant behavior for him."

  She laughed, the sound bitter. "As opposed to his normal behavior of murdering little boys."

  "Exactly."

  Mac had obviously missed her sarcasm. Or maybe she was m
issing his.

  "That's aberrant behavior, Mac."

  "Not for him. This is. He's made some kind of connection to you. I said that to Sonny before, but I didn't understand then how far this went. He wanted to give you a message, and he chose Dwight as the medium of conversation"

  "He wanted to taunt me."

  "Maybe. But...he was willing to forego killing Dwight to do it. Doesn't that argue he feels some pretty powerful connection to you? Some... I don't know, fascination maybe."

  "Fascination?" The thought made her physically ill.

  "I don't mean that kind. Although it's something to ask Johnson about."

  "The profiler?"

  "Yeah. Tate clearly isn't into women, so I'm betting he isn't attracted to you in that way, but there is something there."

  "I tried to kill him, Mac. That's what's there. I tried to blow his goddamn head off."

  Maybe he finally recognized the anger in her voice. Or maybe he just realized that she'd had enough for one night.

  He glanced over at her, but whatever he saw in her face made him turn back to the road. And he didn't attempt to share any more of whatever theory he'd devised to explain what Tate had done tonight.

  Sarah eased a breath, trying to gather the control that had frayed badly in the last few minutes. Mac wasn't the enemy. Trying to help her had already cost him a great deal. Why would she want to alienate the one person who seemed to be on her side?

  "I'm sorry."

  "Don't be. I go off half-cocked sometimes. We'll figure this out. We'll figure him out. I'm going to make Sonny put somebody on surveillance of the building. They can drive Dwight to and from school, too."

  "Will they do that?"

  "They will because, as of tonight, he's a material witness in a murder case."

  Because Tate had talked to him, she realized. And because the most incriminating statement he had made was the question he'd asked Dwight to convey to her.

  Twenty-One

  They were walking the dog on the strip of dead grass adjacent to the convenience store on his corner when Mac's cell rang. He took it out of his pocket, glanced at the caller ID. and then opened it. "Yeah:'

  "Sorry I missed your call," his partner said. "I was in a meeting."

  Mac would have put money on what it was about. The sad part was they were probably more concerned about the fact this latest death was going to be another PR disaster for the department than they were about the dead kid in the park.

  "Hope this one was more productive than the average."

  "Maybe," Sonny said. "For you, anyway. Morel wants to see you."

  "Now?"

  "What do you think? The sooner, the better, Mac."

  "He pissed?"

  "No more than he has been for the last week. The media's already got hold of this."

  "The kid in the park? How?"

  "You talk to them?"

  "Of course not."

  His denial was more emphatic than it probably should have been. He hadn't been the one who'd alerted the press, but he'd thought about it. Especially if the department didn't admit very soon that the most recent victim was Tate's handiwork.

  In all honesty, he hadn't expected them to. Not as long as they thought they could get away with delaying the announcement.

  After all, the boy in the park was proof absolute the department had been wrong about Tate leaving the area. Now he'd killed another child, and the city would be outraged anew at the justice system for having let him go.

  Other than the fact that it had taken the death of another child to force that realization on the populace, Mac couldn't be sorry the charade the N.OP.D. had tried to carry out was at an end. He just couldn't figure out why that would make Morel call him back in tonight.

  "Good. Because if you play your cards right, I think you got a shot at getting in on this one."

  "Play my cards right? As in apologize to Morel?"

  Mac wondered if he were willing to do that. They were the ones who'd been wrong. About everything. Maybe he should be looking for an apology from them.

  "I don't think he's expecting that. He knows he's got a problem."

  "Damn straight."

  "So, do I tell him you're coming?"

  "Mrs. Patterson's with me. With what happened tonight, I don't want to leave her alone."

  That was true for several reasons. Since he and Sonny had already talked about the need to protect Sarah, Mac was hoping that was the interpretation his partner would put on the stipulation.

  "I don't think anybody would mind if you brought her. It might even be helpful."

  Mac wasn't sure he liked the sound of that, but if he was going in tonight, then Sarah was coming with him. She could corroborate what he wanted to tell them about Tate's behavior. She could also help plead the case for surveillance for Dwight and his family.

  "We're on our way." Mac closed his phone, turning around to look for Sarah.

  After he'd stopped to take the call, she'd apparently continued to walk Toby. They were following the privet hedge that had been planted between the store and the duplex next to it.

  She would still be cold, hungry and tired, he acknowledged. And now, before she had a chance to rectify any of those conditions, he needed to talk her into spending another few hours dealing with fallout from the latest moves of the madman who'd murdered her son.

  "You ready?" he called, starting across the grass toward them.

  Sarah turned, stopping to watch his approach. "Was that your partner?"

  "Yeah."

  "They ID the boy?"

  Mac realized only now that he'd forgotten to ask. He placated his conscience by telling himself he was concentrating more on Tate than on his past victims. Mac's concern right now was preventing future ones.

  "He didn't say. He wants me to come down there."

  "To the park?"

  "To headquarters."

  "Tonight?"

  "He says Morel wants to talk to me."

  "Is that good or bad? For you, I mean."

  "Good. I think. The media found out about the boy in the park. They know Tate did it. and now they know Tate's still here."

  "The police have admitted that?"

  "Not yet, but...I don't think they're going to have much choice."

  "What does that have to do with you?"

  "I was the lead detective on the murders. Before Tate was released."

  "Before you destroyed the tape."

  That hadn't been a question. And she wouldn't believe him if he tried to deny it.

  "That was only part of the equation. Morel and I seldom see eye-to-eye. He didn't believe what I said about the damage to the camera. And I wasn't very respectful of his doubt."

  "So now he wants you back because...?"

  "Because he's been forced to admit we still have Tate on our hands. Tomorrow he's going to be forced to admit it publicly:'

  "Any idea how long you'll be gone?"

  "I told Sonny I was bringing you with me."

  Her brow furrowed. "Me? Why?"

  "I need you to tell them what Dwight said, for one thing. And for another, I don't particularly want to leave you alone."

  She studied his face. "Not that I'm all that eager to be alone, but... You're thinking something changed tonight, aren't you?"

  "Maybe it didn't. Maybe I just figured some things out I hadn't figured out before."

  "Like what?"

  "In the last week Tate has radically altered everything he normally does. When I ask myself why that's happened, I keep coming back to you. It's like he's obsessed."

  "With me? With getting back at me for what I tried to do?"

  "If so, he's got a peculiar way of going about it."

  "Meaning what?"

  "If he wanted to punish you for that, what's the worst thing he could have done tonight?"

  She didn't say anything, but the answer was in her eyes.

  "He didn't do that, Sarah. So if he doesn't want to punish you, then what the hell is he d
oing?"

  "For one thing, he's still killing little boys."

  "Just not one little boy in particular. And frankly, I want to know why."

  "That's exactly what Dwight said," Sarah affirmed. "That the man who gave him the note told him to ask me how I liked what he did for me."

  "And you took that to mean what?" Mac's superior asked.

  "Him not killing Dwight."

  "How would he have known that would be important to you?"

  "Obviously he's seen us together. Leaving that other child in the park where I took Toby to play with Dwight indicates that he was watching me."

  "Watching you after you tried to shoot him."

  She glanced at Mac, seeking guidance about what she should say. She'd felt guilty that protecting her from that charge had gotten him suspended. If she now admitted that she had tried to kill Tate, would that make it harder on him?

  His eyes were steady, giving nothing away. Still...

  "I confronted him on the courthouse steps and shouted my son's name," she corrected. "After that, he left a message on my answering machine. I reported that to Detective Cochran, but no one believed it was Tate. I also thought he'd been waiting in my apartment the day my ex-husband was killed. No one believed that was Tate either."

  "Because both of those actions would be very much out of the protocol Tate's crimes have followed. Maybe I could understand them if he were out for revenge for some threat you offered. As it is now..." Morel shrugged.

  His dismissive attitude about what she'd told him infuriated her. If she didn't confess to a crime she could still be charged for, one for which Mac could be severely disciplined for covering up, then the police planned to do nothing to protect Dwight.

  "I'm wasting my time here."

  She had spoken directly to Mac. If he wanted to deal with these people in order to try and get his job back, that was his prerogative. The only thing she wanted, protection for Dwight, was clearly not on the table. And it wouldn't be unless she was willing to confess to attempted murder.

  She still had Dan's pistol. If these bastards didn't intend to look after Dwight, she would do it herself. She began to push up from the wooden armchair she'd been directed to.

  "Hold on," Mac said to her before he turned to his captain. "Are you more interested in playing one-upmanship with me and Mrs. Patterson or in catching Tate?"