Part 22 (1/2)

Mackenzie made a sound. She raised the hand that wasn't in a cast and pointed to herself. ”Me,” she said.

”No way,” Hailey said.

”You're going to be out of commission for a while, Wallace,” Jamie told her.

”After.”

Jamie focused on Mackenzie, but Hailey saw her raise a brow.

”I could use the help,” Hailey said.

Jamie met her gaze, nodded. Hailey knew they were both thinking Mackenzie might be safer if she weren't on patrol for a while.

Jamie nodded. ”She could help.”

”I'll talk to Captain James about getting you a temporary stint in Homicide.” Hailey turned to Jamie. ”That okay?”

”Perfect,” Jamie said.

”But nothing goes outside us. Not until we know who we're homing in on,” Hailey said, directing the comment to Mackenzie.

”Or until we can nail Marchek on the rapes and force him to tell us who he saw,” Jamie agreed.

Hailey thought about what Mackenzie had been through. Jesus Christ.

But Jamie was right about something else, too-they were going to nail this b.a.s.t.a.r.d. She just prayed they could do it before someone else ended up in this place.

Or worse-down in the bas.e.m.e.nt where they stored the cold bodies.

Chapter 25.

Jamie didn't leave the house Sunday afternoon. She made calls to every member of the Rookie Club who had been at the dinner the other night and every woman on the scene the morning after Devlin was murdered. She gave each a modified version of the truth, which included Mackenzie's attack and Barney's and warned them each to be especially careful. She left messages for the ones who weren't home. The few she spoke to hadn't taken her warning as seriously as she would have liked. How could they?

If a cop worried about every threat, she would never leave the house. A cop's job was to put herself in constant danger. The fact that Jamie thought the risk was higher today than usual didn't mean she was right.

She also convinced Captain Jules to sign off on another eighteen hours of surveillance on Marchek to cover through tomorrow. A meeting was called for first thing in the morning to discuss how to proceed, both with the case against him and with Devlin's murder investigation. In the meantime, Jamie just prayed the tail on Marchek was enough to prevent another rape. G.o.d, she wanted this case to be over.

And seeing Mackenzie this morning had only made things worse. d.a.m.n it if she didn't look like s.h.i.+t. At least the doctor thought they'd release her in the morning. They wanted to keep her another night because of the head injury.

All of Jamie's victims were recovering. According to one of the local trauma psychologists, Emily Osbourne had come in for counseling. The subject matter was protected by patient confidentiality, but Jamie was always relieved to hear that victims were seeking help. Emily's father left Jamie a message at least once a day. Her mother had called the rape crisis center for resources on therapy. Jamie had also followed up on all the call-in tips the department had gotten. She had nothing to show for the effort.

She thought about Marchek as she watched Barney circle the floor until he found a comfortable spot to lie down. He appeared to be favoring his right leg, but the vet was confident he'd recover. Barney had been the lucky one.

At half past four, Tony entered the living room juggling her car keys. ”I thought I'd pick up some fixings for chicken parmesan.”

She sat up. ”I'll come.”

”Don't,” he said. ”I can do it. I know where the store is.”

Jamie closed her eyes. She didn't want to go, yet she felt responsible for him. What would he do if she didn't come? Get drunk again? Total her car with him in it?

”You need some smokes?” he asked.

She shook her head. Stopped. ”Okay, just a couple Marlboro Lights-hard packs. And get something sweet-some of that Phish Food or something.”

He frowned. ”Fish Food?”

”You know, Ben and Jerry's. Ice cream.”

Tony shrugged. ”Never heard of it, but I'll find it.”

The door clicked closed and she sat up, suddenly anxious. She ran to the door, pulled it open. ”Tony.”

He looked back, a half smile on his face. It was the expression of a kid about to be let out on his own.

Don't call him back. Don't do it. ”Please be careful, okay?”

”I won't scratch the car, I promise.”

Jamie shook her head. ”I don't give a rat's a.s.s about the car.”

He smiled, turned with energy in his step.

She stepped back into the house, watched him go, knowing it was the right thing to do. At the computer, she signed into the chat room and exchanged a few brief messages about the case in Chicago. After knowing someone had been online, posing as her, it felt weird to be there-exposed-and she signed off after a few minutes.

When the doorbell rang a few minutes later, Jamie a.s.sumed it was Tony.

She pulled the door open and said, ”You have a key-” She halted mid-sentence.

Tim stood on her doorstep.

”Sorry. I thought you were-” She shook her head.

”Can I come in?”

Jamie hesitated. Looking at Tim, she didn't feel angry. She realized it was the first time since she'd found him with Natasha that anger wasn't her first emotion. ”Okay. For a few minutes.”

”Thanks.” Tim followed her to the kitchen. She could feel his gaze stop on Tony's shoes, which sat just inside the back door.

”You want some coffee?”

He nodded. ”That would be great.” He sat down and traced the wood grain on the table. Watching him, she had a vision of them lying in bed together, Tim reenacting a car chase with his fingers on the pillowcase. She searched her mind for the moment when things had gone wrong. She couldn't find it. Never could. One day it was just bad.

”How are you?” she asked.

”I'm not back to work yet. I went by and there's a bunch of picketers in front.”