by Gayle Wilson
He stopped, not because he'd had sense enough to understand how this would impact her, but because of what he now saw happening in her eyes.
"Oh, my God," she said softly. "Dan. Oh, my God. Dan."
Tate had told Dwight to ask her how she liked his gift. They'd all thought he meant the gift of allowing Dwight to live when he'd had the boy in his clutches.
Tate's meaning had been more perverse than that. And far more diabolical.
For years, Sarah had blamed her husband for their son's death. And she hadn't been particularly shy about expressing her feelings. Samuel Tate had taken the culpability she'd assigned to her ex-husband one step farther.
Because he admired her, Tate had murdered the man she had always held responsible for her son's death.
"I'm telling you, Captain, this isn't about getting back at Sarah Patterson. Read the material Johnson sent. It's clear Tate admires what she tried to do. That he—"
"That's your opinion, Mac," Morel said, holding his hand up, palm out. "And one the department doesn't happen to share:'
Mac took a breath, trying to calm his frustration. He wouldn't accomplish anything by alienating Morel. He'd already done that, and it hadn't worked to his advantage.
"Sarah did what his own mother wouldn't do," he said, tempering his tone. "She stood up for her kid. That's what Tate's message to her meant. He killed Dan Patterson for her. Because she had blamed her ex for Danny's death. That was his gift."
He had asked Sonny to keep Sarah occupied while he tried to reason with their supervisor. This was going to be a hard enough sale without having to be constantly aware of the effect his words might have on her.
Although Sarah had accepted intellectually the reality of Tate's motives, he knew it was still hard for her to accept that her ex-husband's murder had occurred because she'd accused him of negligence that had led to his son's death.
"Last night you were equally convinced that the gift he'd referred to was letting Dwight Ingersoll live," Morel argued.
"Last night I didn't have access to the information the FBI provided us with today."
"Even if we accept that Tate admires the stand Mrs. Patterson took, I'm not sure how that negates our plans."
"He isn't coming after her. He doesn't want revenge."
"If you're so convinced of that, I take it you no longer object to her returning to her apartment?"
Was he sure enough of his conclusions to risk Sarah's life on their validity? His hesitation to answer the captain's question seemed to cement Morel's conviction.
"It's an admirable theory, Mac. but I find it difficult to believe Tate has set Mrs. Patterson on some kind of pedestal. He's as cold-blooded a murderer as it's ever been my misfortune to deal with. You think Tate killed the ex-husband because he admired her determination to blow his brains out. I think he was waiting for her. and Patterson showed up. He was in the wrong place at the wrong time.
"In any case, as far as the department is concerned," Morel went on, "nothing has changed. Your opinion is simply that. Detective Donovan. Your opinion." The captain emphasized the pronoun, indicating that he wasn't about to abandon the agreement he'd reached with Sarah last night.
"Then I want to be there."
"I don't think that's possible."
"You agreed to move the Ingersolls out of the bottom-floor apartment. Let me move in."
Morel laughed. "Tate isn't stupid. Mac. What makes you think he's going to buy a new tenant who looks remarkably like a cop?"
"That's the only way Sarah will agree."
“Really?” The question dripped sarcasm. "That isn't the impression I got last night."
"Things have changed."
Morel's mouth pursed, his eyes examining Mac's face. "I think I'd like to hear that from her," he said finally.
"Then ask her"
His supervisor's lips relaxed into a smile. "Oh. believe me. Mac. I intend to."
"What'd you tell him?" Sarah lowered her voice so that only Mac could hear the question. He had volunteered to walk her upstairs to Morel's office, giving them a few moments of privacy.
She hadn't been able to tell anything from his face when he'd come downstairs. Maybe that had been because Detective Cochran had been watching their every move. Or maybe it was because his expression had been so closed and hard.
"I told him you wanted me on site when you move back to your apartment."
"And he objects to that?" After all, it had been Mac who'd been adamant last night that he wanted no part of this.
"He thinks I look too much like a cop."
She laughed because Morel was right. "Don't you think Tate knows about...us?"
There had been a slight hesitation before she'd finished the sentence, but after last night there didn't seem to be any doubt that now there was at least some semblance of "us."
How long that would last hadn't yet been addressed. And she wasn't sure, knowing Mac's reticence, that it ever would be.
That was all right with her. What they had—a mutually satisfying sexual relationship—was all she wanted. She couldn't afford any kind of emotional involvement. Not at this point in her life. Not with her track record.
"I don't know what Tate knows," Mac said. "All I know is that you asked me to be there. That's what I told Morel you wanted. If it's no longer true, then tell him. He'll be more than happy to accommodate you."
"Don't," she said, putting her hand on his arm.
He pulled it away, but not before he turned to look down at her. "It's up to you, Sarah. You can do it their way or you can do it mine."
"I thought we were on the same side here. All with the same objective. Getting Tate off the streets."
"The difference is I'm on your side. They aren't. They're under a lot of pressure to get this done and to get it done quickly. You're their ace in the hole. They know that, but despite knowing it. they'll sacrifice you to protect themselves. Any day of the week and twice on Sunday.""
"Mac—"
"Like I said. It's up to you. Make your case or walk away. But don't let them use you like they've used everyone else involved in this."
Seeing the bleakness in his eyes, she nodded.
Twenty-Four
Mac knew as soon as he and Sonny reentered Morel's office that he wasn't going to like the deal, whatever it turned out to be. His boss was looking too pleased with himself.
"Mrs. Patterson and I have come to an agreement about the arrangements. I have a call in to Special Agent Johnson, who, I'm hoping, will be able to help us in dealing with the psychology of manipulating Tate. If you're right. Mac, and be aware that I'm not conceding that point, then we may have to take some additional action to pique his interest."
"What kind of action?" Although his concern had been about being allowed to stay with Sarah once they'd put her back into her apartment, the last part of Morel's statement put that worry on the back burner. Behind all the possible idiocy the N.O.P.D. and the Bureau might come up with.
"As I said, we're consulting the FBI, both on your read of Tate's motives and on what steps we might need to take if they agree with it."
"Steps to make Sarah his target?"
"Mrs. Patterson has agreed to help us attract Tate's attention. When we're sure about the best way to do that, everyone working on this will be informed.
"In the meantime..." Morel paused, seeming to expect Mac to ask additional questions. When he didn't, the captain continued. "Mrs. Patterson will return to work, under close police supervision, of course. Someone will watch her on her commute and while she's in the restaurant. We' 11 have officers posing as customers and kitchen staff, so that both areas will be covered. Since Tate's modus operandi doesn't normally involve home invasion." Morel went on. conveniently ignoring the facts surrounding Dan Patterson's death, "we believe any attempt he makes will be on neutral territory."
"And just for argument sake, what about while she's at the apartment?" Whatever pattern Tate had followed in the past, he wasn't adhering t
o it as far as Sarah was concerned.
"Since the Ingersolls will be relocated..." Morel tilted his head toward Sarah as if acknowledging that concession to her demands. "The landlord will take that opportunity to refurbish their apartment. Those doing the improvements will be our people, of course, who will monitor her apartment with surveillance equipment that will be installed under the guise of the renovations."
"And the cameras in Sarah's place?"
"Mrs. Patterson believes that, with proper training, she'll be able to install those herself. If not, she can have a maintenance emergency. Something that will require the presence of a workman inside her apartment."
Mac couldn't find fault with that. And Morel was right. The equipment that would be needed on her end was the same type pubescent boys set up in the girls' locker rooms of countless high schools. He had no doubt Sarah would be able to handle its installation.
"The workmen will be there during the day. What about at night? You don't think Tate will buy that the landlord is paying overtime for these improvements?"
Morel shrugged. "A multitude of workmen will come and go throughout the day. I doubt anyone will be keeping count as to whether the number going in equals the number coming out."
"That's exactly the kind of thing Tate would do." Mac warned. "Ask Johnson, if you don't believe me."
"I'll put your question on the list. Although, considering your conviction that he's paid his debt, so to speak, to Mrs. Patterson, I would think you'd be less concerned about Tate's obsession to detail. Anything else?"
"I want to stay in that apartment during the operation. I'll take the night shift."
Morel's eyes lifted from the note he'd been making. "Mrs. Patterson has already expressed her preference."
For a fraction of a second Mac thought the captain was turning him down. Only when he replayed the words in his head did he realize they could just as easily mean Sarah had asked for him. Just as he'd urged her to.
"Does that mean yes?"
Morel's gaze shifted to Sarah before it came back to him. "I understood that was to be the arrangement."
"Thanks. I appreciate that."
Sonny was right. It never hurt to suck up, especially when the person you were sucking up to had just been forced to give you what you wanted.
"I assume that when I hear back from Agent Johnson I can reach you at Detective Donovan's," Morel said, his gaze again on Sarah.
"That's right." Her agreement had been made without any trace of embarrassment.
"Until then," Morel said, getting to his feet.
He reached across the desk to offer his hand. Sarah rose, too, and extended hers.
Morel held it a fraction too long before he said, "Please don't assume Detective Donovan is right about Tate. It would be a shame to let down your guard because of something that's only theory."
"I won't. Nor do I expect you to let down yours as far as the Ingersoll boy is concerned. Like you, I'm not totally convinced Mac's right. If he isn't, then Dwight is just as vulnerable as he ever was. You do have someone watching him?" There was a note of anxiety in her voice that hadn't been in her response to Morel's warning about her own safety.
"Twenty-four hours a day. We've also asked his mother to keep him home from school for the next few days so we can better keep an eye on him. I've already contacted the housing authority to find them accommodations that meet your specifications. You do understand that could take some time."
"As long as Dwight's being watched. I believe your timetable is more pressing than mine."
"I beg your pardon?" Morel looked genuinely perplexed by Sarah's comment.
Maybe because he'd become accustomed to the way her mind worked. Mac knew where she was going with that one. He also knew he was going to enjoy her explanation to his chief.
Probably a little too much, he acknowledged, biting the inside of his lip as he lowered his eyes.
"I read the morning papers while I was waiting downstairs. You let Tate go, and a few days later you have another victim on your hands. The press isn't very happy with the N.O.P.D. right now, Captain Morel. Frankly, neither is the populace. The sooner you get the Ingersolls into a safe environment, the sooner we can get down to what we're all interested in. Taking Tate off the streets again. And this time— hopefully—making it stick."
Sarah was too quiet on the way home. After she'd stood up to Morel, Mac had thought she was beginning to put the reason for Patterson's murder into perspective, but maybe he'd been wrong about that.
Along with a lot of other things.
"You okay?" He took his eyes off traffic long enough to glance over at her.
She'd been looking out the passenger side window, but at his question she turned. "I'm fine."
"Whatever Tate did. Sarah, you're in no way responsible for it."
"Just like Dan wasn't responsible for letting him walk off with Danny?"
Yeah, he 'd been wrong about her putting things into perspective.
"Let it go. Sarah:'
"Sure thing. It's only my son. And my husband."
"Ex-husband."
What the hell did it matter what she called the guy? She had divorced Patterson. Besides, the man was dead. Still her reference to him as her "husband" rankled.
"Ex-husband." she repeated obediently. "Poor Dan."
Mac said nothing. After all. Patterson was a poor, dead son of a bitch. That applied whether Tate had targeted him on Sarah's behalf or whether he'd just shown up in the wrong place at the wrong time.
"Does that bother you?" she asked.
"What?"
"That I called him my husband."
He thought about lying, but what was the point? Besides, he wasn't all that good at it. Certainly not with someone as astute as Sarah.
"Yeah. Yeah, it did."
"Because we slept together?"
He turned to look at her again. "He was your husband."
"I didn't mean him, Mac. I meant us. Does it bother you that I was married?"
"I was married. Does that bother you?"
"I don't know. Maybe. Some."
"Yeah?" Interesting. And encouraging. Which probably made him a poor SOB, too.
"Did you love her?"
"My wife? I thought I did. You love him?" He glanced over in time to see her nod.
Something weird happened in his gut. Because he was jealous of a dead man?
"I'm sorry." he offered, turning his gaze back to the road.
"Thank you. And I think you're right, by the way. For what it's worth."
He tried to fit that into the context of the current conversation, but there was only one place in which it made sense. "Right about Tate?"
"I can't feel sorry for him. But for a little boy..." She shook her head.
"Lots of children suffer much worse, and they don't turn out like Tate."
"Lots of children are murdered, and their mothers don't try to kill the bastard who did it. So what's your point?"
"I don't know. I'm not sure I had one."
After a moment she asked. "Do you think it will work?"
He hesitated, but he'd been considering that same question since they'd left Morel's. "I think that depends on whether the Bureau can find the right buttons to push."
"And if they do..." The words faded.
"If they do, Sarah, there's a chance Tate will come after you. After all, that's the whole point of this exercise."
It was well and good to accept in principle that something was going to happen. It was harder to accept the actuality that a man who'd killed more than a dozen people was going to make you his next target. In his opinion, she needed to do that.
"Better me than Dwight," she said. "Or someone like him."
"If we do nothing, there's every possibility Tate will move on. He may anyway:'
He'd paid his "debt" to Sarah. Since Mac was now convinced the serial killer wasn't out for revenge for what she'd done at the courthouse, he could see no reason for the man to hang around New
Orleans.
There were plenty of unsuspecting towns out there. Places where he could start over. Places where it would take a few missing kids before they figured out what was going on.
"I thought that's what we were trying to prevent." Sarah said. "Him leaving the area."
"That's what the Bureau is trying to do. All I'm trying to do is keep you from getting hurt."
She said nothing in response, turning her head to look out the window again. Maybe it was the personal direction his comment had taken. But if she didn't want him to feel personal about her, she shouldn't have spent the night in his bed.
"You said that stopping Tate was the department's job," she said after a moment.
"It is." The tight coil of fear in his gut loosened a little.
"You're part of the department. Mac. Even Morel admitted you have to be in on this."
"So?"
"So if all you 're trying to do is keep me from getting hurt, you aren't doing your job. And maybe the rest of them aren't either."
"Sarah—"
"I don't have a choice, Mac. Especially if you're right. I used to say I had two kids to look after. Dan and Danny. That there wasn't a whole lot of difference in their maturity levels. Except Danny was more reliable."
"I don't—"
"I knew that about Dan. I said it to other people. Said it more than once. And yet I still let Danny go out with him. I pretended that he'd act like a parent. That he'd take all the normal precautions a responsible adult would take where a little boy was concerned. And I knew better. I knew better, and I still let it happen. I always said I was the responsible one. Dan wasn't. And if I really was—" Her voice broke.
For the first time he realized she was crying. "Don’t do this to yourself."
"So what does that make me, Mac? If I was the responsible parent, and we both knew it, then what the hell does that make me?"
He had sense enough to know there was nothing he could say to assuage her guilt. Despite publicly blaming her ex for what had happened to her son that night, he understood that what she was feeling right now wasn't anything new.
This was something Sarah had lived with since Danny died. This was what had driven her to the courthouse that day. This was what would make her agree to whatever Morel asked.