ANOTHER DRIVE, BUT SHORTER THIS TIME.
Staying in Chicago isn’t a smart idea. By now the authorities know she’s here. Killing across state lines is a federal crime, so the FBI is going to be involved. Plus, the CPD won’t take threatening one of their own lightly. Everyone will be looking for her, and hers isn’t a face that’s easily forgotten.
But just because Alex has to be in Chicago for one final crime doesn’t mean she has to stay there. So instead she gets a room in nearby Rosemont, at a second-tier hotel near the airport. She dons the black veil and pretends to be a grieving widow as she checks in, the fake sniffles and sobs giving her an excuse to keep her hand on her face, over her scars.
When Alex gets to her room she collapses onto the bed, exhausted. She thinks about her upcoming sabbatical, and how nice it will be to take a break from killing for a while. After she kills the doctor, of course.
There’s still Jack to deal with. And that asshole Harry. And Phin. But the need for revenge, pressing on Alex’s every thought like a full bladder, isn’t quite as pressing. Jack’s not dead, but she’s certainly suffering.
And it’s going to get a lot worse, Alex thinks. After Herb dies, she’s going after Jack next.
It’s kind of sad, really. Alex has been fixated on Jack for so long that having her gone will leave kind of a gap. Perhaps it’s best to savor the little time they have left.
Alex kicks off her shoes, wiggles her toes, and locates the nail polish she bought earlier. She dials, then begins painting the first little piggie.
The phone is answered on the third ring, but Jack doesn’t say anything.
“What, no hello?” Alex asks. “Rude. Are you still mad at me for Alan? That was hours ago.”
“I’m going to find you.”
Jack sounds weak.
“I know. And I’m going to make it easy for you. Tomorrow, after your partner dies, I’m going to call you and we’ll set up a meeting. Just me and you, Jack. That’s what you want, right? Revenge?”
No answer.
“Are you still there? If you want, I can call up Harry instead.”
“I’m here.”
“And you want revenge, don’t you?”
“Yes.” Quiet and squeaky, like a mouse.
“I’m an expert in revenge, and let me tell you something. It doesn’t bring back the dead. Sure, it’s fun. I’m having a great time slaughtering everyone important to you. But Charles is still dead. And even if, by some miracle, you happen to kill me, Latham will still be dead. Herb will still be dead. Alan will still be dead.”
“You’re the next one to die, Alex.”
Alex listens to the background sounds. Wind. A car passing at a high speed. She discerns Jack is on a highway.
“What happened to Phin? Were you too much of a downer so he took off?”
“Get to the point.”
“I wanted to tell you that I watched you try to save your husband. Exciting stuff. You know, you were only about thirty seconds late. If you’d been just a little faster, he’d still be with us.”
Another sound joins the wind and car noises. Alex is overjoyed to hear it.
“Lieutenant Daniels, are you crying?”
The sound becomes muted. Jack has put her hand over the mouthpiece. Not only is she devastated, she’s also embarrassed.
How delicious.
“He’s in a better place, Jack. If he lived, he’d just be pining for you. Did you know his Internet password was Jacqueline? I’m not making that up. And he still had a picture of you in his wallet. Poor sap. I bet he was the type who sent you poems. Did he write you a poem, after your first time? Something about how lovely you were, fucking him in that restaurant bathroom? What rhymes with toilet?”
“I’m…I’m going to-”
“Jack, woman to woman, threats don’t really work when you’re crying like a baby. It’s pathetic. Now, fun as this little chat has been, I’m painting my toenails and it isn’t easy holding the phone at the same time. So here’s the deal. When I call tomorrow, with the clue to save your partner, you’ll have to react fast. You won’t have twelve hours, or two hours. You’ll have less than a minute. Use it wisely.”
Alex hangs up, pleased with how the call went, but not pleased with the job she’s done on her first few toes.
Now isn’t the time to be sloppy. Alex pads over to the bathroom, dumps some acetone on a hotel towel, and wipes off the nail polish to start again.