You know what really bugs me? From the outside looking in, everyone thinks Evan is the calm rational one and I’m the crazy one. I even go along with it. I think, God, I shouldn’t have flipped out like that, why do I always overreact so much? It’s not until later when I trace it back to try to figure out why I blew up that I realize Evan tossed a lit match at my feet when he already knew I was standing in a pool of gasoline.
Like this morning. I’m trying to get Ally ready for school and she’s going through all her clothes trying to decide what to wear. She finally picks a red shirt, but then she’s worried her headband doesn’t match, so she has to go through all her clothes again. Then Moose, who decided this is a great time to get some sort of bacterial infection that requires antibiotics three times a day, will not eat anything that has a pill in it no matter how cleverly disguised. So I’m chasing him around the kitchen, trying to get the thing down his throat, while Ally’s screaming, “You’re hurting him!” Food is landing on me, on the dog, on the kid, and on the floor. Then Evan, my sweet, kind, rational fiancé, walks in, looks at the mess, and says, “Jeez, I hope you’re cleaning that up.” Are you kidding me?
So of course I lose it. “Get the hell off my back, Evan. If it bothers you so much, clean it up yourself.” Then he storms outside, pissed at me for yelling at him. He didn’t talk to me for an hour, which isn’t like him at all. I can’t stand it when someone gives me the silent treatment, so I end up apologizing, then later I’m like, wait a minute — why didn’t he apologize for picking the worst time in the world to get on my case?
We talked about it right before I came here and he said he was sorry for his comment, but I know he’s still pissed off. Then on the way here I remembered what you said last session, that Evan might be feeling resentful of all the time I’m spending on the John situation. I didn’t think so then because we’d been getting along great, but this week something changed, and now everything’s changed. No one’s having much fun right now — except maybe John.
The day after our last appointment I got a call from Sandy.
“Julia would like to talk to you. She tried to call you but you’ve changed your numbers.”
“What does she want to talk about?”
“I don’t know, Sara.” She sounded annoyed. “She just asked me to give you her home number.” I could imagine how much Sandy loved playing messenger. The thought made me smile.
“Thanks. I’ll call her right now.” But I didn’t. Instead I made a cup of coffee, then sat at the table with the phone in front of me. The woman could make me feel horrible and I had enough of that going on. Maybe I shouldn’t call her back at all. Give her a taste of her own medicine. I lasted two minutes.
She answered on the first ring.
“Sandy said you wanted to talk to me?”
“I’d like to see you in person so we can talk privately.”
“Oh. Okay. I, um, can’t really go anywhere today, I have to pick up Ally soon, and—”
“Tomorrow’s fine. What time can you be here?”
“Maybe around eleven?”
“I’ll see you then.” She hung up, leaving me with no explanation and the urge to call her back and tell her I wasn’t coming. But there was no way I could do that, which pissed me off. She probably knew it too. That pissed me off even more.
Evan wasn’t keen about me driving all the way down to Victoria when we still didn’t know where John was, but he understood I had to find out why Julia had called. I promised I’d be careful, then proceeded to speculate about a million possible reasons she might want to see me, until he finally said, “Sara, you’ll find out tomorrow. Go to bed.” “But why do you think she—”
“I have no idea. Now go to bed. Please.”
I did, but I stayed awake for hours, wondering what to wear, how to speak. This visit felt so different. She’d asked to see me. She wanted to see me.
The next morning I headed straight down to Victoria after I dropped Ally off at school. I was almost a half hour early, so I grabbed a coffee from a shop near Julia’s house, remembered there’s a public beach close to her place, and drove down that way. As I passed by her house I noticed a woman coming out the side door. She ran her hand through her hair.
No way.
I pulled into a neighbor’s driveway, then watched in my rearview mirror as Sandy crossed the street and got into an unmarked police car. What was she doing in Victoria? She called yesterday and never mentioned it. Of course, I didn’t mention my upcoming visit either. After Sandy drove by I pulled out and continued to the beach. For twenty minutes or so I stared out at the ocean, sipping my coffee and thinking about what I’d just seen. They might’ve been going over the case, but the timing seemed odd.
I drove back to Julia’s house. She smiled briefly as she answered my knock, her lips tight against her teeth. Even though it was the middle of June, she was dressed all in black in a long skirt and a sleeveless tunic. She looked pale and her bangs were a sharp line against her forehead. I smiled back and tried to make eye contact. See how harmless I am? How lovable? But her eyes flicked away as she ushered me in with a quick movement of her hand.
“Would you like some tea?”
“No, thanks.”
She didn’t offer anything else, just gestured for me to follow her to the living room. As we passed through an enormous kitchen with gleaming marble countertops and cherry cabinets, I spotted two mugs on the counter. I wondered if one had been for Sandy.
The living room was more formal than my taste and as I eyed the white couch and matching love seat I tried to imagine Ally there. The Himalayan cat reclined on a leather ottoman in the middle of the room, glaring at me as it flicked its tail. I sat on the love seat, Julia perched on the couch in front of me and smoothed her skirt down her legs. She gazed out at the ocean for a long time before she spoke.
“I heard you won’t talk to him anymore.”
Where was she going with this?
“That’s right,” I said.
“You’re the only one who might be able to stop him.”
My body tensed. “Would you want to talk to him?”
“That’s different.”
I felt bad for my comment and said, “Evan, my fiancé, we decided it’s too risky.”
She looked hard at me. “I want you to meet with him, Sara. For me.”
I gasped. “What?”
She leaned forward. “You’re their only chance of catching him. If you don’t talk to him, he’s going to kill more people. He’s going to rape and kill another woman this summer.”
We stared at each other. A pulse beat at the base of her throat. The cat leaped off the ottoman and stalked off.
“That’s why Sandy was here today, isn’t it?”
Her eyes widened in surprise and she sat back.
“I saw her leaving, Julia. Did she tell you to say this stuff to me?”
She said, “She didn’t tell me anything.”
We held gazes. I knew she was lying, but she didn’t even blink.
I said, “What about my life? What about my child?”
Her hands shook in her lap. “If you turn your back on this, then you’re a murderer.”
I stood up. “I’m leaving.”
She followed me to the door. “It disgusted me that I had you inside me for nine months, it sickened me knowing you were out there in the world — that something of his lived.”
Her words froze me at the door and I stared at her, waiting for the pain to hit, like when you cut yourself and first see the blood, but your mind doesn’t realize yet how badly you’ve been hurt.
“But if you stop him,” she said, “it will have been worth it.”
I wanted to tell her everything she was saying was unfair and cruel, but my throat was tight and my face hot as I tried not to cry. Then the anger left her face, her body sagged, and when she looked at me her eyes were desperate, defeated.
“I can’t sleep. As long as he’s out there I’ll never be able to sleep.”
I threw myself out the door, slamming it behind me, ran crying to the Cherokee, and jammed into reverse. I tried to call Evan as soon as I was back on the road, but he didn’t answer. After a few miles my hurt and anger had segued into guilt. Was she right? If I didn’t set up another meeting and John killed someone, was I a murderer?
Normally when I drive up the Malahat Highway from Victoria I take it slow and focus on the road — with one side a sheer drop and the other a rock wall, there’s no room for error — but today I was speeding around the corners, my hands gripping the wheel. When I reached the summit and started down the other side where the road opens back up into two lanes, I called Sandy.
“That was low, even for you.”
“What are you talking about?”
“You know damn well.” As I came too close to another car on a sharp bend I forced myself to slow down.
“Did something go wrong?”
“You can drop the act, Sandy. I saw you leave her house.”
She was silent.
“I’m not dealing with you anymore.” I hung up.
I tried to call Evan, but he still didn’t answer. I had to talk to someone. Billy answered on the first ring.
“I want Sandy off the case. I won’t work with her.”
“Uh-oh. What’s going on?”
“I just drove all the way down to Victoria to see my birth mother — because I stupidly thought she might actually want to visit — but it turns out she was just trying to talk me into meeting John. I got there early, and saw Sandy leaving her house. She talked Julia into it! Did you know about this?” “I know Sandy’s been speaking to her, Julia’s a very important witness. But I don’t believe she was trying to set up—”
“Don’t you think it’s pretty convenient she just happened to be there on the same day?”
Billy was quiet for a moment. “Would you like me to speak to her?”
“What’s the point? God, I feel like such an idiot for thinking Julia really wanted a visit. But she just…” I stopped as tears threatened again.
Billy said, “Where are you right now?”
“Coming back from Victoria.”
“Why don’t I grab some coffee and sandwiches and I’ll meet you at your house? We can talk about it, okay?”
“Really? You don’t mind?”
“Not at all. Call me when you’re closer to Nanaimo.”
The rest of the drive I rehearsed all the things I wanted to say to Sandy, but Julia’s voice kept breaking in. If you stop him, it will have been worth it.
When I pulled in my driveway, Billy stepped out of his SUV with a smile, holding a tray with two Tim Hortons coffee cups and a brown paper bag.
“There’s not much Timmy can’t fix.”
“Not so sure about that.” I smiled.
“Well, we can try.” After I let Moose into the backyard, Billy and I sat on the back patio and tucked into our sandwiches.
I studied him across the table. “Do you think I’m a murderer if I don’t meet with John?”
“Where did you get that?”
“That’s what Julia said.”
“Ouch.” His eyes radiated sympathy.
“Yeah. Evan said it wouldn’t be my fault if he kills someone.”
“Of course it isn’t. As a police officer I always feel responsible when a suspect gets away, but I just try to learn from it and do a better job next time.”
As we worked on our sandwiches I thought about what he’d said. But Billy wasn’t done with the subject.
“You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to, Sara. But if you choose not to meet him, you can’t blame yourself for the rest of your life when he does something.”
“The thing is, if it was just up to me I would try to set up another meeting. I was going to call and tell you that, but Evan flipped out. There’s no way he’d let me do it again.”
“He’s just trying to protect you.”
“I get that, but he doesn’t torture himself like I do. I know it sounds nuts, but it’s like I can feel everything those victims feel, what their families feel. Don’t you ever feel like that when you work a case? Like you’re losing yourself?” “It’s hard, but you learn to compartmentalize.”
I sighed. “That’s my problem. I can’t separate from anything. Even when I was a kid I had a one-track mind. Dad used to hate it because I’d be right into something for a while and I’d go on and on about it for days, then the next week it was something else.” I laughed. “What were you like as a kid?” “I got into trouble all the time — fighting, drinking, stealing. My dad kicked me out when I was seventeen and I had to live at a friend’s.”
“Wow! That’s awful.”
“It worked out for the best.” He shrugged. “I joined a gym near my house, and this old cop who taught kickboxing took me out on a few ride-alongs. He talked me into being a cop or I’d probably be behind bars.”
“I’m glad you decided to be one of the good guys.”
“Me too.” He was grinning.
“Are you and your dad close now?”
“He’s a pastor. All he cares about is church and God, in that order.”
“Really? What was that like growing up?”
“If you think I have a lot of quotes, my dad could preach the Bible word for word.” He smiled, but I saw a flash of something hard in his eyes before he looked down at his empty coffee cup.
“Was he strict? You know, ‘spare the rod’ and all that?”
He nodded. “Not violent or anything, but he believes in penance.” He gave a short laugh. “When I was a kid, I got in a fight at Sunday school because I was trying to stop a boy from beating up a smaller kid. Dad made me apologize to the whole congregation — then kneel at the front of the church and renounce my sins and beg the Lord’s forgiveness. That was just for starters.” “But you were just trying to protect someone. Didn’t you explain what happened?”
“There’s no explaining anything to my father. But I know what I did was right. I’d do it again in a heartbeat.”
“It’s weird thinking of you having a dad like that. You’re so calm and logical.”
“Now, sure. But it took me a while to get there.”
“Really?”
“I had a bad temper when I was in my twenties. When I first joined the RCMP I wanted to take down every criminal myself.”
“Back that up. You had a temper?”
A mischievous grin. “I may have bent a few rules.”
“Or a few faces, right? I knew it!”
His expression grew serious. “A case got thrown out because of me and I was suspended — almost got kicked off the force. It was a hard lesson, but I learned to work within the system.”
“But don’t you get frustrated? Like when someone keeps getting away with crimes?” I shook my head. “If John got off on a technicality, I’d go nuts. It would be pretty tempting to take matters into my own hands.”
Billy’s face was intent, troubled. I didn’t fill in the silence.
“That case I just told you about?” he said finally. “It was a serial rapist. After months we had a lead on where he might be staying and I decided to check it out. When I got there I saw a man leaving who fit the suspect’s description. The rapist always took his victims’ clothes, so I climbed in a window looking for evidence — and sure enough, there was a bag in the closet filled with women’s clothing. I was about to leave when the suspect walked in the front door. When he saw me, he took off running and I gave chase.… It didn’t end well.” “What happened?”
He met my eyes. “Let’s just say I let my emotions rule my head and I made a mistake.”
“But you always seem so in control.” I was intrigued that Billy might have another side to him. One a lot more like myself.
“The Art of War changed my life — kickboxing helped too. When you’re in the ring you find out fast that if you lose your cool, you lose your coordination.”
“Huh, interesting. Are your tattoos from the book?”
He pointed to his left arm. “This one says, ‘Weakness stems from preparing against attack.’” He pointed to his right arm. “And this one is, ‘Strength stems from obliging the enemy to prepare against an attack.’ I got them when I joined Serious Crimes.” “They’re really cool.”
He smiled. “Thanks.”
We finished our sandwiches, then Billy’s BlackBerry dinged. He unclipped it from his belt and glanced down.
“Looks like you got another e-mail from John.” I’d almost forgotten the police were forwarding all my e-mails to themselves. Billy’s face was tense as he scrolled down.
“What does it say?”
He handed me the phone.
IF YOU WON’T TALK TO ME,
I’LL FIND SOMEONE WHO WILL.
Fear slammed through my body, forcing the air out of my chest in a rush. He was going to do it — he was going to kill someone else. I tried to say something to Billy, but my whole body felt like it was pulsing with the blood roaring in my ears.
Billy said, “Are you all right?”
I shook my head. “What … what’s going to happen?”
“I don’t know. We’ll trace where this came from and make sure the detachments across BC increase their patrols at campsites.”
“What do I do now?”
“What do you want to do?”
“I don’t know — if I start talking to him again Evan’s going to be really upset, but if John…”
“Only you can make that decision, Sara. But I have to go make some calls. I’ll let you know if I hear anything.”
As soon as he left I went upstairs and stared at John’s e-mail, my heart and thoughts going a mile a minute, then it was time to get Ally. Thank God she chattered about her day all the way home, because my mind spun around and around. What was I going to do about John? Hours later I wasn’t any closer to an answer.
To distract myself I Googled Billy and found an article about the case he’d mentioned. What he didn’t tell me was that after he chased the rapist they got into a fight. He grabbed Billy’s gun and as they struggled for it the thing went off, injuring an old lady walking her dog. Because Billy had unlawfully entered the house, the judge wouldn’t allow the evidence into court and the rapist got a stay of proceedings. No wonder Billy did everything by the book now. Even though he broke some major rules, I was impressed he went after the guy on his own like that.
After Ally was in bed Evan finally called back. I told him about John’s e-mail and what had happened at Julia’s.
“That’s a pile of horseshit. I can’t believe she did that to you. Just write that woman off, Sara. You don’t deserve that.”
“But you kind of have to see things from her point of view. I know what it feels like to live in fear of what’s going to happen next. If there was someone who could stop me from feeling that way right now—”
“There is — the police. You have to let them do their job.”
“Billy’s trying.”
Evan was quiet.
I said, “What?”
“I just think it’s weird that he brought you lunch.”
“I was upset — he was trying to make me feel better. And I’m glad he was here when I got that e-mail.”
“Seems like Billy’s always trying to make you feel better.”
“He’s a policeman — he’s just doing his job. At least he never makes me feel pressured like Sandy does.”
“Don’t kid yourself. He’s probably just playing good cop.”
“He is a good cop.”
There was a long pause, then Evan said in a flat voice, “You want to talk to John.”
“I don’t want to talk to him, I want to stop him.” He didn’t say anything, so I continued. “Do you know how hard it was to hear that from Julia? That I’m the one person who can make her feel safe again? The same person who went looking for her and started all—” “He raped your mother, that’s how this started.”
“I know, but I’m the one who can stop it.”
“What are you saying?”
“I think … I think I should try to meet with him.”
“No, I already told you. No way.”
“What if I just start talking to him again? Maybe I can coax him to reveal more, or at least take his attention away from the campsites.”
“Why can’t you just let it be?”
My voice broke as I said, “Because I can’t. I just can’t.”
Evan’s voice was gentle. “Baby, you know this isn’t going to make Julia love you, right?”
“This isn’t about trying to get her to love me. But if you love me, Evan, you should understand why I have to do this.”
“I think there’s a part of you that likes being the only one who can stop him — that’s why you can’t let it go.”
“That’s a horrible thing to say. You actually think I like that my father is a serial killer and he already killed a woman because of me?”
“I didn’t mean it like that, I mean you just don’t know how to—”
“Stick my head in the sand and pretend everything is okay? Like you?”
“Now, that’s a horrible thing to say.”
We were both silent.
Finally Evan sighed and said, “We’re just going around in circles. If you’re going to talk to him again, just be prepared that he’s going to try and set up another meeting.”
“I don’t know what I’m going to do yet, Evan. I just need to know I have your support.”
“I’m not happy about you talking to him, but I understand why you feel you have to. But I mean it, Sara — I don’t want you to try to meet him again.”
“I won’t do anything without talking to you about it first, okay?”
“You better not.”
“Or what?” I said it in a teasing tone, but Evan’s voice when he answered was serious.
“I’m not kidding, Sara.”
Over the weekend I thought about what I should do and talked to Billy about it again. He said Sandy told him she never coerced Julia into speaking to me, it was something she wanted to do on her own. Maybe, but I have my doubts. Sandy’s so driven I think she’d do just about anything to get John. As time went on and I still hadn’t made a decision, I wondered if I could get away with never having to. Then Julia called on Monday.
“I heard he e-mailed you again, Sara. Are you going to talk to him?”
“I haven’t decided.” I braced for her anger.
“Well, while you’re deciding, maybe you should consider this — the police said I might be the next person he tries to contact.” Her voice quivered on the last word and I realized how scared she was. “This time I hope he kills me.” Then she hung up.
It took a full five minutes for my heart to stop pounding. I called Evan, but he didn’t answer. I knew I should talk to him before I made a decision and I did wait another hour, but when he still didn’t answer an odd kind of calm settled over me. I knew what I had to do.
I went upstairs and typed out an e-mail to John. All it contained was one sentence—How can I help you, John? — and my new phone numbers. Then, before I could allow myself to think about it any longer, I hit send.
But I still haven’t heard from him. It just about killed me not to ask Sandy if she told Julia I’d e-mailed him back. Does she like me now? Now that I’m risking my life and my family? Now that Evan’s pissed off at me? Then I told myself over and over again that I don’t care what she thinks. I’m getting so good at lying, I almost believe it.
The thing is, though, it’s not just for her. This will never end unless I find a way to make it end. And in my gut I know the only way to do that is to meet with him — you even agree with me. I know it’s crazy for me to think I can do something the police can’t. But sometimes, on a deep kinetic level, as much as I don’t understand what John does, something inside me does get it. I do think I have the power to stop him. And Evan is right, I like it.
Then I think of John, of that moment when he’s standing over those women, or lining someone up in his gun sights. I wonder if this is how he feels.