“I wasn’t,” I said. “You’re right. And I won’t arrest him the next time we meet. I’ll do my best to kill him right there. But it’s not the same thing.”
“Why isn’t it the same thing? Because you’re so sure he’d be found guilty if he was tried? Because there’s no prosecutor on Earth who would dismiss the charges?”
“There’s no question he’d be found guilty. He’d probably admit it in court and give a speech about it.”
“But what if he was? What if there was a problem with the evidence? What if he had an alibi that seemed reasonable? What if his lawyers found a technicality? What would you do if he walked away a free man?”
“I’d kill him on the courthouse steps.”
“Then what’s the difference?”
I sighed. I hadn’t planned to get into a philosophical debate today, but I didn’t really have anything else on my schedule. “You’re not entirely wrong,” I admitted. “I actually don’t support the death penalty. The government disagrees with me, but I don’t think the government should be allowed to take lives.”
She bit her lip. “That’s not really what I expected you to say.”
“Well, I’m also a hypocrite,” I said. “I think there are situations where it’s justified for a person to kill another person. And I don’t mean in self-defense. The Laughing Man would be one example. I know a dozen people I’d watch kill him then let them walk away. If a father kills his son’s murderer I don’t want to see him in prison. If a woman kills her rapist…you know what? I’m fine with that. I used to be really into due process and the legal system and all that, but I know if someone raped me I’d put a gun in their mouth. So I can’t deny that to anyone else.”
Vanessa nodded. “So we’re on the same page there.”
“Not really,” I said. “You keep asking what the difference is. The difference is that I’d have to be right. If I ran out and shot some guy because I thought he was the Laughing Man, maybe because he looked at me wrong, but it turned out he was just some weird eccentric, or a guy who was too into my tits, then I’d be a murderer. There’s no walking away from that. I’d have to go down for it. Just like you and Samantha have to go down for Brian Haskill. And even if you’d gotten the right Brian Haskill…you still killed Krystal.”
Vanessa thought about that. “I guess you’re right.”
“You know something?” I asked. I leaned forward and looked in her eyes. “The funny thing here is that if you hadn’t killed Krystal, you’d have gotten away with this. The police had nothing on you. Nothing. They thought they were dealing with muggings. Krystal is the only reason I’m here today.”
Vanessa looked down at her cappuccino. “Well. Maybe that was the wrong move.”
“I’ll say.”
“So what happens now?” she asked. “Are the police going to storm in here and take me away?” She looked around. “Come to think of it, why are you here at all? You’re not actually a police officer anymore.”
“People forget that,” I said. “Occasionally it comes in handy. The truth is there aren’t any detectives at your place. Only one cop knows about you right now.” I nodded at Sarah Winters, who had followed me into the coffee shop and taken her own seat at a nearby table. She had a fierce look in her eyes. It suited her.
Vanessa looked confused. “But you said…”
“This was a bit of a ruse,” I said. “Like I said, I found the witness, but he’s not exactly in his right mind and that might not have been enough to get a warrant. I didn’t want to risk it.” I took my phone out of my pocket and held it up so she could see the screen. I’d turned the microphone on before I’d come in. “So I recorded this conversation.”
Vanessa stared at the phone as Sarah approached our table. “God damn it,” she said quietly.
“Yeah,” I said. “I know.” I looked up at Sarah. She had a pair of handcuffs waiting. “So there’s that,” I said, “I’m going to go. You got this?”
“I got this,” Sarah said.
“Good.” I stood up.
“What do you want me to tell Dan?” Sarah asked.
“Whatever you want,” I said. “It won’t matter all that much. He’s going to yell at me one way or another.”
Chapter 23
I was wrong about the yelling. Dan sent me a text that said in no uncertain terms that I should begin my vacation immediately. He couldn’t have been all that angry, then. Now he knew the case was really over. And it was. Krystal’s murderer had been found. I had nothing else to do.
I spent a few days at home, leaving only for groceries and once to get lunch with Molly Malone, and then I decided to do something I’d been putting off. To tell the truth I hadn’t been sure I’d do it at all, but if I didn’t I’d probably regret it. I had enough regrets in my life. I didn’t need to add another.
Miranda Callies got me the room number for Paul Wilkins at the hospital. I stopped by at about two in the afternoon. I didn’t bother checking in at the nurse’s station. Walk into a place acting like you belong there and you’ll be surprised how few people challenge you. But when I reached the room itself, the bed was empty. A nurse stood there with a clipboard in her hand, but there was no sign of Paul. More than that, there was nothing in the room to indicate there was any patient being treated here at all.
“Oh, fuck,” I said. The nurse looked up. “I can’t believe…I’m too late?”
“Too late?” the nurse asked.
“He died?” That had been fast. I’d thought dying of liver failure was a significantly longer process.
“You mean Mr. Wilkins?” the nurse asked. “Oh, no. He’s…” She looked me up and down. “I’m sorry, but you are?”
“His niece.” It was a lie, but the truth wouldn’t have gotten me anywhere. I was conceivably the right age for him to be my uncle.
“Ah,” she nodded. “Then it must be your brother who’s the donor?”
I had no idea what she was talking about, which made coming up with a lie that would be sufficient to keep her talking difficult. I just wound up giving her a blank look.
“Maybe not, then,” she said after a moment. “Other side of the family?”
“Yeah,” I said.
“Maybe you didn’t hear, but his nephew matched for a transplant.” She smiled. “It’s great news!”
“That is great news,” I said. I looked around. “I don’t really understand, though. Is he having the transplant right now or something? Why does this room look empty?”
“The procedure isn’t going to happen for a while yet,” she said. “We won’t need him back until it’s time to operate. So he went home.” She nodded at me encouragingly. “You should call him.”
“I’ll definitely do that,” I said. I stepped away from the door and back into the hall.
There was a small waiting area about ten yards away. I walked over to it and took a seat in one of about a dozen chairs. Only two of the other chairs were occupied. One held a little girl who looked to be about ten years old. She appeared to be reading a copy of the Wall Street Journal, although I imagined she was just looking at the pictures. The chair next to her held a cat. I hadn’t realized pets were allowed in here. That didn’t seem quite right, but it wasn’t like I was going to call security to complain about it.
So Paul had gotten his second chance. I’d come here to attempt to offer him some comforting words before he died. Maybe I’d have told him that his leadership in A.A. had meant something to me. I wasn’t sure that was true, but he’d probably have appreciated hearing it. I’d expected to see a frightened old man here. That hadn’t been in the cards, though. Much like me, Paul had another shot at life. His may have been more complicated than mine. After all, I didn’t need surgery. But it was another shot, just the same.
I wondered what he’d have done if he were thirty years younger. And if he’d had enough money to go wherever he chose and start things over. What would he have done?
What was I going to do?
�
��You seem very distressed,” the girl sitting nearby said. “Perhaps you would care for some tea. There is a vendor just down the hall from here.”
I looked up, surprised. The girl had put her paper down and was looking at me. For a moment I didn’t know what to say. “A…tea vendor?” I finally asked.
“I take it their main business is coffee,” the girl said. “But they do offer tea.” She nodded at a Styrofoam cup on a small table next to her chair. “It is not very good, but it is still tea.”
“Oh,” I said. I took a closer look at the girl. She had blonde hair down to her shoulders, and wore blue jeans and a t-shirt that had a yellow cartoon monster on it. I didn’t know the thing’s name. Peekaboo?
“Are you not Nevada James?” the girl asked.
“For fuck’s sake,” I said. Then I remembered I was talking to a child. “Shit. I mean…darn it. Sorry about the language, kid. Don’t talk like me, okay?”
“I will endeavor not to,” she said. I thought I saw a trace of a smile. “But I am correct, am I not?”
“You are correct,” I said. Then I cocked my head at her. “You have a very unusual way of speaking. For a kid, anyway. How old are you?”
“Ten,” the girl said. “Although I have been told that I am an old soul. I suppose that is accurate.”
“I suppose it must be,” I said. “Yeah, I’m Nevada James. I guess you saw me on television sometime a while back.”
“Perhaps that was it,” the girl said. “As I said, you seem distressed.”
“Nah,” I said. “I’m just…thinking, I guess.”
“Do you wish to talk about it?”
“Not really,” I said.
“Very well,” the girl said. She went back to looking at her paper.
“Have you ever thought about running away?” I asked abruptly.
The girl sat her paper down on her lap. “So you do wish to talk.”
“No,” I said. “Well, yes. To someone I know. But anyone I know is going to try to talk me out of it.”
“Running away?”
“Yeah.”
“Ah,” the girl said. “So you believe it is a bad idea.”
“Maybe.”
“Why is it you wish to run away?”
“Because I have a situation I’ll never get away from as long as I’m here.”
The girl considered that. “The Laughing Man.”
My eyes may have widened a little. “How much do you know about that?”
“As you said before, I must have seen it on television.”
I nodded. “Okay. Yeah.”
“A difficult situation, to be sure. And where is it you wish to go?”
“Somewhere else.”
“I suppose the answer was obvious. You would not, I take it, retain your current identity?”
Was this girl seriously ten years old? Was this how kids talked? To be fair, I didn’t know a lot of kids. I didn’t know any kids, actually. “No,” I said. “New name. New identity. New city.”
The girl nodded. “Even with all of those things, would you not still be yourself, Ms. James? Reinvention is a difficult thing. It takes some dedication.”
I thought about that. “Maybe if I kept up the act long enough, I wouldn’t be. Fake it until you make it, you know? I wonder if it’s worth giving it a try,” I said. “It’s not like I have anything to lose.”
The girl nodded. “Whatever you decide, I am sure you will be successful. You are quite clever.”
“Thanks,” I said. Had that been on television?
“Have you thought about San Francisco at all?” the girl asked. “There are many opportunities for a clever person there. You might find some of them...quite interesting.”
“San Francisco has never really been my thing,” I said.
“Perhaps you will feel differently in the future,” she said.
“Maybe.” I stood up and looked around. “I’m going to go. Are…are you here with your parents or something?” In the time we’d been sitting here, nobody had checked in on her.
“My parents have been dead for some long while now,” she said.
“Oh. Sorry. God, you’re so young.”
“Yes.” She went back to her paper and then looked at me once she noticed I hadn’t left. “Ah. You are concerned why I am sitting here alone?”
“Yeah.”
“My legal guardian was injured by a…was in an accident. I am waiting here while he receives stitches.”
“Okay,” I said. “Well, good luck to you.” I offered her my hand to shake, which she did. “I never got your name.”
“Artemis,” she said. She nodded at the cat next to her. “This is Jeffrey.”
Jeffrey looked at Artemis, and then at me. He meowed once, then began washing his face with his paw.
Artemis nodded at me. “Be well, Ms. James. Perhaps we will meet again one day.”
“Perhaps,” I said. I left the hospital. On the drive home it occurred to me that just might have been the strangest conversation I’d had in my entire life. It had helped me sort things out, though. I knew what I was going to do next.
Chapter 24
Three weeks later I was sitting in a departure lounge at Los Angeles International Airport. Abercrombie’s exit package had had everything I needed. A driver’s license and a passport in a new name. A social security card. The cash I’d been keeping in my closet was being quietly laundered into a new bank account. And I had an itinerary; one that would take me to a place I’d never heard of before. More importantly, it was a place where nobody had ever heard of me.
Samantha was still in her coma back in San Diego. There wasn’t much chance she was ever going to wake up. If she did, I’d be called to testify at her trial, but I was going to be very hard to find.
It was hard to shake the feeling that I was doing something terribly wrong. I’d told Dan, Sarah, and Molly Malone that I was going to be taking an extended vacation. I’d said I needed some sun. I’d mentioned Hawaii, although that wasn’t where I was going. I hadn’t said goodbye to any of them. They’d have flipped out if I had. Everyone knew I didn’t do goodbyes.
My house was locked up tight. Abercrombie would check in on the place from time to time, collecting the mail and making sure everything was all right. He was the only person that would be able to contact me if there was something I needed to know.
Maybe this really was just a long vacation. But maybe it wasn’t. Maybe I’d find that my new life agreed with me, and I’d never come back. Part of me hoped that would be the case.
The first of the flights I’d be on today was taking off in another hour. I was relieved that it was still on time. A long enough delay might have given me time to change my mind. I didn’t want to change my mind. I wanted to go.
I was debating whether getting myself a soda this close to boarding was a good idea when my cell phone rang. The caller ID showed an unlisted number. Normally I didn’t answer those; they’d be telemarketers dialing at random. But this time I got a sinking feeling in my stomach. The timing was just too perfect. I couldn’t ignore it. I answered the call but didn’t bother saying hello. I just waited.
“Hello, Nevada,” the Laughing Man said.
Of course he’d known. How could he not?
The Laughing Man’s voice was a tenor, musical and almost beautiful in its own twisted way. I could hear him breathing through the Greek theatre mask he always wore. The one that depicted his terrible smile. “How did you get this number?” I asked.
“I’ve always had it, of course,” he said. “It just seemed rude to call this line without asking your permission first. We do have boundaries, after all.”
“But this is an exception, I take it.”
“I seemed to have no other alternative.” I heard him sigh. “Would you please tell me exactly what it is you think you’re doing?”
I looked around the lounge. Half a dozen other people were talking on their phones, but none of them were wearing masks. That wouldn’t have g
one over well with airport security. And nobody appeared to be paying any attention to me. “Take off that mask,” I said. “I want to hear your real voice.”
“You mistake me, Nevada,” the Laughing Man said. “The other face I wear out in the world, that one is the mask. This is the face of my true self.”
“Freak.”
“As you say. But you haven’t answered my question.”
I thought about lying to him, maybe telling him I was going on vacation like I’d told the other people in my life. But he knew better, and in a way I felt he deserved the truth. He’d been my nemesis for a long time. As odd as it might sound, that had to count for something. “I’m done with this,” I said. “I’m leaving. For good.”
“I don’t understand.”
“I can’t do this anymore,” I said. “I want out. I will never have a normal life unless I make a change. A big change. And I can’t do it here. I’ll never stop being what I am.”
He didn’t say anything for a moment. “Do you really think pretending to be someone else will change who you are? That’s very naïve of you, Nevada.”
“Maybe it is,” I said. “It probably is, actually. But I have to try.” I heard desperation in my own voice and didn’t care for it very much.
I listened to the Laughing Man breathe through his mask for what seemed like a very long time. Finally he spoke again. “It won’t last, Nevada. You’ll come back. I understand your wanting to change, and that’s admirable, but there are fundamental things about who and what we are that can’t be changed. They are the most basic elements of our character. You can go anywhere you want, you can use any name you want, but in the end you will always be Nevada James. You will always be broken, Nevada. There’s nothing you can do about that.”
In my heart I suspected he was right. I didn’t want him to be, but what he was saying made more sense than I wanted it to. “Maybe. I guess we’ll see.”
He sighed. “Very well, Nevada. Go have your little adventure. I’ll miss you, of course, but I think our separation will be brief.”
Angels (Nevada James #3) (Nevada James Mysteries) Page 15