The booze was gone. The photos were gone. The need to destroy myself was gone, at least for the moment. I was naked, and I didn’t know where I was, and I had no idea how to get back to civilization. Or even if I should.
I fell back onto the gravel as if I were a bag of boneless meat. And stayed there. In time, I fell asleep. Not unconsciousness, not druginduced stupor, but the real thing.
And I even dreamed. Or something like it.
23
Patrick marched into headquarters, his face taut and lined. He threw his coat at the nearest hook on the rack. It missed, fell in a crumpled heap on the floor. He didn’t notice. He slid behind Susan’s desk and started reviewing all the reports on Susan’s disappearance. Just as he had every day this week. Over and over again.
“You’ve got messages,” Madeline shouted from the lower floor, waving pink slips in the air.
“Give them to someone else,” he said, his face buried.
“They want you.”
“I don’t have time for crackpots and false confessions.”
“Some of them say-” She paused, lowered her voice. “They’ve seen Susan.”
“I’ve followed up on twenty-two Susan sightings. Granger has done more than that. Not a damn one has led to anything.”
“You got a problem?”
Patrick whipped his head up. Somehow, O’Bannon was right in front of him. “Sorry. I’ve been… immersed.”
“So I hear. Obsessed, some say.”
Patrick craned his neck. “Sir, when an officer is down-”
He waved it away. “You don’t have to tell me, Chaffee. I’ve known Susan all my life. I used to diaper the girl’s bare bottom.” O’Bannon’s eyes briefly closed. He looked tired, aged. “Madeline says you were making a stink about the files.”
“I was trying to find out everything I could about Susan. Her background, personnel file, police record.”
“You think the key to finding her is in her past?”
“I don’t know. But profilers are supposed to absorb all the data, collect every scrap of evidence, then come up with some brilliant conclusion. And I’ve read everything else.” He paused. “Except one file. It was logged into the computer index. But I couldn’t find it. Madeline thought maybe you had it.”
“She was right. It’s restricted.”
“I don’t know why you pulled it, but if there’s any possibility that it could help us find her-”
“It’s not about Susan.”
Patrick stopped, thought a moment. “I found it listed in her directory.”
“A cross-reference. It’s about her husband. He was a cop, too.”
“David.”
O’Bannon frowned. It was obvious that this was a subject he preferred to leave alone. “How much do you know about him?”
“Not much. Except that he’s dead. And his loss seems to have really hit Susan hard.”
“It did.”
“Started her alcoholism.”
He shrugged. “Certainly a contributing factor.”
“I know he was a detective. Worked with Granger.”
“Know anything about his death?”
He shrugged. “Police work is dangerous. I assumed he was killed in the line of duty.”
O’Bannon drew in his breath, then slowly released it. “The first part is right. The last part is wrong.”
“He didn’t-?”
“They’d been married eight years. Susan probably wasn’t the easiest person on earth to live with, but then David had a temper on him, too. They fought, but no one thought much about it. In a lot of ways, they were perfect for each other.”
“Chief, are you saying-”
“They had a big fight that day. Right here at headquarters. Everyone watching. He stormed out. And that was the last time we saw him.”
Patrick’s lips parted. “No.”
“Yeah.” He handed Patrick a thin file. “Put his weapon in his mouth and blew his brains out.” O’Bannon shook his head. “I guess he won that argument.”
I was sitting at a dinner table lit with candles. The soft, rosy glow cast a warm aura across the sumptuous spread. I felt all warm and snuggly.
“What happened?” I asked.
Rachel answered. “We found you, remember? In the desert. The police brought you back here.”
I turned my mind back, a mental process that produced physical pain. I remembered wandering around the desert, or trying. But my legs still didn’t work well and could only move a few feet at a time. Something had happened to my right leg, or maybe it was the lingering effect of the drugs. I couldn’t seem to remain conscious long enough to focus my thoughts. I was hungry. And thirsty. I had thought myself very noble when I poured the booze into the brink, but I later came to regret it. I needed to drink. I didn’t need a drink. There was a difference. I kept telling myself.
“I told you I was going to prepare a very special dinner,” Rachel said. “Don’t you remember any of this?”
“I-I-”
Another voice from down the table. “Surely you remember the kiss I gave you when you got home.”
It was Lisa. Lisa!
“I mean,” she continued, “I don’t normally go in for kissing chicks. But when my homegirl has been lost in the desert for damn near a week, that’s different. I kissed with wild abandon.”
“I hope this doesn’t mean you’re going to give me a nickname.”
“Well…”
“Or if you do, I want it to be Goddess.”
Lisa laughed. “Goddess it is.” She held up a platter. “I made my artichoke dip.”
I gasped. Lisa made awesome artichoke dip. Three different cheeses, mayonnaise, and oh yes I think there’s some artichoke in there somewhere. It is to die for. She hadn’t made it in months. I’d almost forgotten how good it was.
Rachel held out yet another platter. “Don’t forget the buffalo wings.”
I gazed down in ecstasy. Another favorite. With bleu cheese on the side, not ranch dressing like some lame-o joints served. “Did you make this?”
Rachel squirmed. “In a sense.”
“In what sense?”
“In the sense that I drove to Chili’s and picked it up.”
I laughed and pushed six of them onto my plate.
Lisa chirped up again. “Don’t forget the potato skins.”
“Potato skins? What kind of a meal is this, anyway?”
“All your favorite junk,” Rachel explained. “You deserve it.”
It was too good to be true. “What about the Shepherds? Will they be joining us?”
She shook her head. “They’ve given up the battle. NDHS, too. It’s sad that it took your being kidnapped for them to realize what a wonderful guardian-parent, really-you’ve been to me. They’ve all agreed that you should have custody.” She giggled. “I’m so glad, Susan. It’s what I’ve wanted all along. I’m coming home.”
“And… and the basketball? And that church group?”
“Oh, the Shepherds made me do that stuff. All I want is to be home with you.”
The flickering glow of the table filled me. I felt a warmth inside, a contentment. Something I couldn’t remember having felt for a long time.
Granger cleared his throat. “Susan, would this be a good time to tell you something I’ve wanted to say for a good long while?”
“Well, that depends…”
“I’m sorry. About the way I’ve behaved.”
“Oh, you haven’t-”
“Sure I have. I’ve been a regular bastard and I know it. I knew it when I was doing it. But I just-I just-”
“I know. David.”
“It’s not that. Not just that.” He sighed. “It’s because you’re such a good cop. And I know it. Hell of a lot better than I am. Smarter. I feel inferior around you.”
“You shouldn’t. Let it go.”
At the end of the table, one chair was empty. The place had been set. “Why isn’t someone there?” I asked.
“Because you haven’t decided,” Rachel said.
I gazed about the table. “Surely all this food isn’t for me.”