“What?” said Finn.
“Look,” said Liam, “like I said, it doesn’t matter what I think.”
“I should not be in jail, tiger.”
“Well, you are. And that’s not going to change,” said Liam. “So, what’s something else that I can do for you?”
“Nothing,” said Finn. “That’s what I want. You say you can’t do it, and Haysle says she can’t either. So, get the person who can do it in here.”
Liam’s shoulders slumped. “This kid needs me.”
“So, get that person in here pretty quick.”
“This kid doesn’t deserve to be even pulled into all this.”
“Then you shouldn’t have stuck your dick in him.”
The hell of it was that Finn was right. “Well, I can’t undo the past, can I? So, help me out. Tell me one place where I might find Destiny.”
“I already told you the place that I knew.”
“That can’t be the only place.”
“Well… no,” said Finn. “But, like I said, I have my demands, and you know what they are. So, until that can be arranged, I’m not saying a word.”
CHAPTER NINETEEN
DAWSON was leaning against the side of Liam’s car, arms folded over her chest, waiting for him when he came out of the prison.
He saw her and stopped short.
“Hey,” she said.
He bowed his head and rubbed a sheepish hand over the back of his neck. He continued his approach, but he didn’t look at her.
“You remember a conversation we had pretty recently?” she said. “You remember promising me you wouldn’t go and see him on your own?”
“It’s my fault Ricky is in this mess, and I have to do something about it.” He stopped next to his car. He still wasn’t looking at her. He got his keys out of his pocket. “How’d you even find out? Did they call you?”
“They did, just wanting to confirm that you were all right to meet with him on your own,” she said. “I didn’t want to undermine you, so I didn’t make waves. Besides, I don’t want to forbid you from stuff, like you’re a child or something. I want to trust you. We’re going to have a conversation and come to an agreement. Because if you’re going to be a father—if we’re going to have a kid together—I need to have that with you.”
He lifted his gaze to hers. “You want me to apologize.”
She raised her eyebrows.
“I’m not actually sorry,” he muttered.
She shook her head slowly.
“And like you said before, I have rights to my own child, so—”
“Not if I can prove you’re unstable and unfit,” she snapped.
He drew back, hurt all over his face.
She sighed. “Look, I…”
“If that’s how it is, there’s no conversation to have,” he said, clicking the keychain. His car beeped and he yanked open the door.
She put a hand on his arm. “Hey, why did you come here? Is it because you can’t resist him? Did you get anything from him?”
He shook her off.
“I can hardly see myself doing something so drastic as getting you declared unstable, Liam,” she said.
“Why’d you say it, then?”
“If you can’t resist him—”
“I can resist him fine,” said Liam. “I told you why I came. What happened to Ricky is my fault.”
“See, it’s not,” she said.
“Haysle, I just got done saying to you that I don’t want to talk—”
“Whatever happened with you and Hernandez, he made the decision to go out there on his own. This blaming thing you’re doing to yourself, you have to stop it. It’s not good for you, and you’re making bad decisions because of it.”
He swallowed. He hesitated there for a moment, not saying anything. Then he looked up at her. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry I broke my promise to you.”
She gave him a sad smile. “I forgive you.”
“I didn’t get anything from him. He’s dead set on this idea that he needs to be in a hospital, not jail. He’s not budging from that. He says he has more information about Destiny, but he’s not going to give it up unless we make that happen.”
“Well,” she said, “we aren’t talking about a nebulous, possible killer now. We have DNA from the scene in Cape Christopher, when the woman’s throat was slit. It puts Worth at that scene. She can’t wriggle out of being involved. I’ve had that info in my inbox for a while now, but things have been too crazy for me to review it. And on top of that, Hernandez is in danger. So, I think we’re in a different position going to the DA. I’m going to ask Captain Moore to set something up, because last time that I set something up myself, it didn’t go well. I’m hoping we can talk to a different guy than the guy I talked to last time.”
“What are you saying? That we can get Finn into a hospital? Should we even do that? I mean, aren’t the odds higher that he figures out how to escape from a place like that? He’s already escaped once.”
“Look, you were saying that you were willing to make a sex tape with him. Obviously, this is less of a sacrifice than that.”
He didn’t look convinced.
“You’re willing to martyr yourself,” she said, “but that’s not an option, okay? We have to make compromises, this is where we’re going to do it. It’s not perfect, of course, but it’s the best we’ve got.”
“I got you and Liam Emerson a meeting with Ezra Jackson,” Captain Moore said into his coffee cup. He’d taken the lid off, and he was peering into the cardboard cup. Moore usually had coffee cups that were the size of Big Gulps and today was no exception. He shook the cup experimentally, shaking his head. “Something about this coffee doesn’t taste right.”
“Ezra Jackson?” said Dawson. She was sitting in Moore’s office, across the desk from the captain.
“I’m going to have drink coffee from the lobby, aren’t I?” said Moore. “I hate the swill they brew here.” He sighed.
“Isn’t there anyone else we can talk to?” said Dawson.
“I don’t know if it’s incompetence or the kind of coffee they buy,” Moore continued. “Or maybe it’s stale. I don’t know. I think they buy in bulk, and those big cans sit out, getting grosser and grosser with every passing day. I’m not a coffee snob, you know. I just want a simple cup of joe, but here we are.” He set his coffee cup down on his desk and focused on Dawson. “Nope, no one to talk to except Jackson. It’s his case. Why, what’s the problem there?”
Dawson sighed. “Never mind.”
“What did he say to you?” said Moore.
“Nothing,” she said. “Don’t worry about it. I can handle it.”
Moore considered this. “I’m sorry he’s an ass.”
“I didn’t say that.”
“Well, I think I know the type,” he said. “But I think he’s amenable to talk about the case. And he also said that he’d be willing to take whatever we hammer out to Slater’s attorney, so that’ll be one last thing to worry about, I think.”
“Well, thanks for talking to him, anyway,” said Dawson. “I’m sure that made a difference, sir.”
“Hopefully because I’m well-respected and experienced, not because I’m a white heterosexual man,” said Moore.
“Hopefully,” said Dawson, giving him a small smile.
“Um, while I have you,” said Moore, “let’s talk about the women who are our survivors from the raid on Worth’s home?”
“Not much to say,” said Dawson. “One is in recovery from biting off her own tongue. She can’t speak, obviously, and isn’t showing a lot of interest in learning to communicate in other ways. The other one is fine physically but also is not talking. They’re both still on suicide watch and seem to be attempting to harm themselves whenever an opportunity presents itself.”
“Yeah, that’s what I thought,” said Moore. “Uh, we have a consultant who works with the department on occasion. A Mercedes Gibson. She’s a deprogrammer, and she specializes in cults and
other group-think organizations. Anyway, you might want to give her a call.” He picked up a card off his desk and handed it to Dawson.
Dawson took it, furrowing her brow. “A deprogrammer.”
“Yeah, she consults for us, but she makes most of her money getting paid by parents to break their kids out of cults,” he said.
“Seriously?” said Dawson. “I’ve heard about this. People like that kidnap people in cults and keep them captive in hotel rooms, trying to unbrainwash them?”
“Yeah, exactly. That.” Moore nodded.
“It sounds a little… unethical,” said Dawson.
Moore shrugged. “I don’t think so. Brainwashed people can’t make good decisions. Just give her a call. I don’t know how busy she is. She may not be able to help personally, but she can give you some tips, at least.”
Dawson tucked the card away. She wasn’t sure that conversation wasn’t going to end with her giving this so-called deprogrammer a piece of her mind. Two wrongs didn’t make a right. You didn’t fix abuse by doing more abuse.
“Jackson wants to see you this afternoon at his office,” said Moore. “And I’d like to indicate that if we can’t come up with anything to offer Slater, that we close that door. From what I understand, one or the other of you is down there every other day, meeting with him. I don’t want to play any more games with that bastard, so if there’s no plea deal, we consider him a dead lead and move on.”
“Sure thing,” said Dawson, although she bet Liam wouldn’t like it. But it was good, she thought. It was better.
“What do you got for me on the communication from Worth?” he said. “Our tech guys look into that?”
“They did, and it’s a dead end,” she said. “The IP address has been masked. We’ve got nothing on her location from those meetings. She’s using a free Zoom account with a throwaway email address.”
“Well, I figured that we wouldn’t be having this conversation if we had some way to find her from that,” he said. “Too bad, though.”
“It is,” said Dawson.
“As for the rest of that, her demands…” Captain Moore shook his head. “This woman is a real sicko.”
Dawson laughed a little.
“I don’t even want to talk about it,” said the captain.
“No,” said Dawson. “Suffice it to say, we will not be capitulating to her.”
“Definitely not,” said Moore.
EZRA Jackson did not shake either Dawson’s or Liam’s hands when they arrived at his office. He was not happy to see them. He glared at them both as they all settled down at his desk together.
“So, we have you, the former boyfriend, in on the negotiations now,” he said to Liam. “Why are we doing that?”
“Liam Emerson is a consultant on this case,” said Dawson. “And he was never Phineas Slater’s boyfriend.”
Jackson’s sneer let them both know that he didn’t believe that. “Hey, I know there’s all this pressure out there to tow the line and worry about people’s feelings or whatever, but I’m just not that kind of person. So, if you’re easily offended, we don’t even have to continue this meeting.”
“Not offended,” said Liam, smiling widely at Jackson.
This seemed to unnerve Jackson, and he cleared his throat, adjusting his tie. “Just so you know, I’m straight.”
“Yeah, I would never have guessed that,” Liam said blandly.
Jackson knitted his brows together.
Dawson stifled a laugh. It was sometimes funny watching how badly men dealt with the idea of being found attractive by a person who might be a physical threat. They had no idea what it was like to be a woman, and it showed.
“Look.” Jackson’s voice was cold. “I get word from higher up that it’s important that we catch this Worth lady, and that we have one of our own in danger, so I’m authorized to take the death penalty off the table. Isn’t that what you wanted?”
“Well, as you know,” said Dawson, “what Slater wants is to be in a mental health facility.”
“No,” said Jackson. “We don’t have facilities like that, not for his level of crime. I’m authorized to say that we can allow treatment for him to happen in his prison, but it’s not going to be on the taxpayers’ dime. It’ll be on Slater’s own insurance.”
“Well, he’s not employed. He doesn’t have insurance,” said Liam.
Jackson shrugged. “This is what I’ve got. Can you sell it to him or not?”
Dawson considered. “I think so.” She looked at Liam.
“I don’t know how he’s going to afford treatment,” said Liam.
“But it’s probably not important,” said Dawson, “because he doesn’t really want treatment, right? He wants to be in a lower security facility to attempt another escape.”
“Yeah, probably,” said Liam. “He is really adamant about how he has no control over himself, though.”
“I’ll get something in writing over to his attorney,” said Jackson. “If that’s all…?”
Dawson smirked at him. “Yeah, we’ll get out of your hair before our gay rubs off on you.”
“I told you, if you were going to be offended—”
“Not offended,” said Dawson.
“Not at all,” said Liam. He winked at Jackson.
Jackson swallowed, shrinking back from him.
“THIS is not what I asked for,” Slater was saying. He was glaring at Dawson and Liam in the interrogation room, gesturing with his shackled hands. “Yesterday, my lawyer comes in here and tries to get me to sign this thing—”
“We were supposed to talk to you first,” said Liam. “Sorry about that.”
“Oh, because you’re supposed to convince me?” Slater shook his head. “You can’t. I made demands, and you’re not meeting them.”
“It’s what you want,” said Liam softly, “but it’s the best that can happen. You can get this treatment you say you need, but it has to be done inside the prison.”
Finn shook his head. “No. That’s not what I want.”
“Why?” said Dawson. “Because it’s not about treatment, is it? You think it’s going to be easier to escape from a hospital than a prison, even one designed for criminals.”
“The thing is, Finn,” said Liam, “there is no facility in the state that’s equipped to handle the level of security that someone like you requires. So, there’s nowhere to put you. It’s never going to happen.”
“But how else am I supposed to get better?” said Slater.
“You can get treatment—”
“In a prison,” said Slater, “there’s no assumption that I could be cured, and if I was cured, then I’d be able to leave.”
“What?” said Dawson, her voice shrill.
Liam cocked his head at Slater, blinking. “You’re very out of touch, Finn. You’re never going to be free. You need to get this into your head.”
Slater let out an annoyed sound. He tried to lift his hands but the shackles caught him. “But if I’m ill, and I am, it’s not my fault. So it’s not fair to punish me.”
Liam shook his head.
Dawson was simply gaping at Slater, unable to find words.
“Isn’t the point of punishment to correct behavior?” said Slater. “If I never get a chance to prove that my behavior is corrected—”
“In your case, you’re just being eliminated as a threat,” said Liam in a soft voice. “No one cares if you get ‘better,’ Finn. No one wants anything from you except not to worry about you hurting them or their loved ones.”
“I’m still a human being,” said Slater. “Aren’t I?”
“Not really,” said Liam.
“Liam,” whispered Dawson.
“No.” Liam put up a hand to stop her. He focused on Slater. “In the eyes of most people, you’re not, Finn. You need to get that. You killed people, and they see you as a monster, as something inhuman. They have no sympathy for you, and they want you dead. You are lucky that we got the death penalty off the table.”
“But…” Slater blinked at him. “That’s… I don’t accept that.”
Liam laughed softly under his breath.
“You’re saying that my only options are to be killed or to live out my life in a cell?”
“Yes,” said Liam.
“No,” said Slater. His face twisted, in anger and pain.
“We are coming here with the gift of your life,” said Liam. “Certainly it’s better to live, even in a cell, than to die?”
“If someone’s going to kill me, I want it to be you, tiger,” said Slater. “I told you that before.”
“Yes, I remember, but you changed your mind about that after you were locked up.”
“I didn’t.” Slater shook his head.
“You didn’t honestly think you could be free?” Liam surveyed him.
Slater was quiet.
“You did,” murmured Liam. “Somehow, you did. How could you have possibly—”
“Shut up.” Slater bared his teeth. “Now, you’re talking to me like I’m stupid, and I’m not stupid. You know, if you want me to cooperate with you any further, you might want to think a little bit about the way you talk to me.”
Dawson spoke up, smoothly. “Of course. We’re sorry, Mr. Slater. We didn’t mean anything by it. You’re a very intelligent man, and you’re a dangerous and frightening man. We didn’t mean not to give you the respect you deserved.”
Slater sniffed, seeming to enjoy the praise. “Exactly.”
“Can we talk about the deal?” said Dawson.
“I don’t know,” said Slater. “I need to think about it. I have a lot of things I need to think about.”
CHAPTER TWENTY
LIAM sat at the breakfast bar in Dawson’s apartment, perched on a stool. He was running his fork through the Chinese takeout he and Dawson were eating. “It’s like in some ways, he’s a little kid.”
“There’s a theory that there’s a certain stunted emotional maturity in psychopaths,” Dawson said. She was seated next to him.
“Yeah, I guess I remember that,” said Liam. “I know I shouldn’t feel sorry for him, but I can’t seem to help it. He was like a three-year-old being told Santa Claus didn’t exist or something.”
Blood Indulgence: a serial killer thriller (Phineas and Liam Book 3) Page 14