“I’m keeping him in the box.”
“You’re using his therapy to work through your own feelings.”
“Your words again.”
“Yes. He escaped, Luce. A long time ago.”
She thought. She nodded, but the nod was more to herself.
“I see. I’ll think about this.”
“May I offer something else?”
“Why stop now?”
“I don’t believe you flew here at the last minute to talk about Ben or ask me to be a larger part of his life. I think you do want those things, but he’s grown. We’ve missed those years, Luce. You’re here for me.”
“I’m not. I can’t go through it again.”
“I’m not trying to convince you. I wish you’d never left and we’d lived happily ever after, but this is who I am. I’m a detective. Like a cop, but better dressed.”
“Don’t joke.”
I took a breath.
“I’m scared. I’m scared if we get back together you’ll dump me again. I don’t want to go through it again, but I’m willing to risk it.”
“What are you talking about?”
“Decide. We were great. We can be great again. It’s what I want and I think you want it, too. But I don’t want to be just friends anymore.”
She sat on the bed for a very long time. I felt hollow and sick. I was sorry I had said these things. I wished I had said them a lifetime ago.
After a while she got up and left. I wanted to follow after her and take it all back, but words, like actions, were with us forever.
I shut the lights and stood at the edge of my loft. I searched the night sky and the black well of the canyon for tiny hovering lights. I saw none, but I suspected they were there.
I slept, but it was ugly and fitful.
I dreamed about Rachel Belle Bohlen. Her face was battered and bruised and she was naked, but she wasn’t dead. In my dream, she ran across a field. She ran as fast as any sprinter, knees high, long strides, fine legs churning, but she didn’t run fast enough. Thousands and thousands of bees swarmed and swirled around her like an angry black cloud. Rachel ran. She ran for her life. But she couldn’t outrun the bees.
35
I woke in a panicked sweat well before dawn. The sky was still black. I sat up and checked my phone, but found no messages. I texted Joe Pike.
What’s going on? Call if able.
Pike called thirty seconds later.
“The sedan is at the hotel.”
“Did you get his picture?”
“Didn’t see him. Checked the bungalow and the airport, and came here. Found the car on the B4 parking level.”
“Where’s the meatball?”
“Don’t know. Didn’t see who drove it. Might be the scarecrow or one of the others. No valet ticket, so we can’t check the room.”
“So what are you doing?”
“Waiting. Jon stuck a transponder on it. When the car moves, we’ll intercept and get the shots.”
I thought about them waiting for a dot on Jon’s laptop to move and didn’t like it. The meatball could leave in the limo or another car. The scarecrow or the gardeners or a driver might pick him up.
“Has anyone returned to the bungalow?”
“No.”
“Is anyone watching it?”
“No.”
Nobody watching for Josh bothered me even more.
“I don’t like this. If they’re not watching his home, maybe they already have him.”
“No way to know.”
I didn’t like not knowing.
Pike said, “The battle space is changing. The girl’s body was found. The police are involved. You’re involved. They’re making adjustments.”
“So they’ve pulled back to figure it out.”
“I would. Their bugs will tell them if Josh goes home, so they’re waiting to see what happens.”
Pike made sense, but I still didn’t like it.
“Maybe I can wake the dragon.”
“What?”
“The device Jon left in the bungalow. Does he have eyes?”
“Yes.”
“I’ll be in touch.”
I dressed and crept down to the kitchen. I didn’t like leaving in the middle of the night and I didn’t like leaving the way we’d left things, but I didn’t know what else to do. I wrote a note.
Leaving to meet Joe. Sorry. I didn’t want to wake you. Back later. Please be here.
I read it over and hated it, but I left it on the floor outside their door and let myself out.