SESSION THIRTEEN

I’d like to say I’m doing better. Mostly because I love the way you smile when I tell you things worked out or that something you said helped. A lot of what you and I talk about does help. But lately stuff is coming at me so fast and furious I don’t have time to get over one thing before I’m thrown headfirst into the next.

Every day I Google Danielle’s name to see if there’s another article. Her family started a memorial Web site and I can’t stop looking at her photos and reading the little facts that made up her life. She was supposed to be a bridesmaid in her friend’s wedding this summer and they’d just had their dresses fitted. I cried, thinking of her dress hanging in a closet somewhere. You asked if I might be obsessing about the victims because I’m trying to come to terms with my own worst fears of losing my daughter, but I don’t think that’s it. I don’t know why I put myself into Danielle’s pain, why I conjure poignant images, each more painful than the last. Why I can’t stop wanting to know everything about her life.

You taught me years ago that we can’t choose how we feel about something; we can just choose how we deal with those feelings. But sometimes even when you have a choice, the things you’re choosing between are so horrible it doesn’t feel like much of a choice at all.

*   *   *

Saturday morning I was at the grocery store with Ally when my cell finally rang. I didn’t recognize the number, but the area code was BC. I answered with a cautious, “Hello?”

“You didn’t tell me you had a daughter.”

I stopped in the middle of the aisle as fear gripped tight around my chest. A few paces in front of me, Ally was pushing a small buggy, with her red purse slung over her shoulder. She stopped and examined a bag of pasta, her lips pursed.

I said, “No, I didn’t.”

“Why?”

I thought about Danielle. If I didn’t say the right thing I might be next. My face felt hot and my vision blurred. I forced myself to take a breath. I had to sound calm—had to keep him calm.

“I was being cautious. You hurt people, and—”

“She’s my granddaughter!”

Ally wheeled her cart back toward me. I pressed the phone against my chest.

“Sweetie, why don’t you go to the end and pick out some cereal?” She loves examining all the boxes for their various prizes. Picks one, puts it back, picks another. Normally I hated it.

John said, “Is she with you right now?”

Crap. He heard me. “We’re grocery shopping.”

“What’s her name?”

Every fiber of my body wanted to lie, but he might already know.

“Ally.” She glanced up. I smiled and she went back to debating cereal options.

“How old is she?”

“Six.”

“You should have told me about her.”

I wanted to tell him he had no right to know anything about my life, but this was not the time to piss him off.

“I’m sorry, you’re right. But I was just protecting my daughter. Any mother would’ve done the same thing.”

He was silent. A woman walked down the aisle. I moved to the side, wondering what she’d think if she knew who I was talking to.

He said, “You don’t trust me.”

“I’m scared of you. I don’t understand why you killed Danielle.”

“I don’t either.” When we first started talking his voice was angry and tense, but now he seemed almost defeated. My heart rate slowed slightly.

“You have to stop hurting people.” It came out as a plea.

I held my breath, expecting him to flip out, but he just sounded defensive when he said, “Then you can’t lie to me again. And you have to keep talking to me when I need you to.”

“I won’t lie, okay? And I’ll try to talk to you when you call, but sometimes people are around me. If I can’t answer, you could just leave a message and I’ll call you—”

“That won’t work.”

I wondered if he still suspected the cops were tracing his calls.

“If you keep phoning a bunch of times in a row, my friends and family are going to start asking questions.”

“So tell them.”

“They won’t like me talking to you, and—”

“You mean the cops don’t want them to know we’re talking.” He said it causally, but I wasn’t fooled for a minute. He was testing me.

My pulse sped up again. He had his suspicions, but suspecting and knowing were two different things. I had to stick with my lie.

“No, I mean my family wouldn’t understand. And they’d tell the police—”

“You’ve already called the police.”

“I didn’t—I told you before. I didn’t believe who you were at first, then I was scared you’d come after my family. Evan would be worried and—”

“So leave Evan—you don’t need him.”

My body tensed. He sounded angry again. Had I just put Evan in danger? At the end of the aisle Ally had picked out a box of cereal and was now doing wheelies with her cart. If I didn’t distract her soon, she was likely to crash into one of the displays. I motioned for her to follow me to the vegetable section, trying desperately to think of something to say to calm John down.

“I’ll try to talk to you whenever you want. But I love Evan and we’re engaged. If you want to be part of my life you have to understand that.”

I held my breath at my daring. How would he take this?

“Fine, but if he gets in the—”

“He won’t.” I let out my breath, sagging against the cart. Ally was trying to get my attention. I handed her a plastic bag and motioned for her to pick out some apples.

John said, “I want to talk to Ally.”

I stood up straight.

“That’s not a good idea, John.”

“She’s my granddaughter.”

“But she might say something to someone, then it will raise questions like I told you, and—”

His voice was frustrated. “If I can’t talk to her, then I want to meet you.”

My blood roared in my ears. I never thought he’d want to meet, never believed he’d take that risk. I had to scare him off—and fast.

“But what if the police are watching me?”

“You said you didn’t tell them. I believe you—I’d know if you were lying.”

For a moment I wondered if he was the one lying. I shook off the thought. He had no way of knowing I was working with the police.

“But that stuff about you being my father was in the newspapers and on TV. What if they’re following me?”

“Have you seen someone following you?”

“No, but that doesn’t mean they—”

“I’ll phone you tomorrow.”

*   *   *

Billy called my cell right away, but Ally was bumping her cart into the backs of my legs and I knew she’d reached her limit. She wasn’t the only one.

“Give me a bit, Billy. I’ll call you as soon as I get home.” I rushed through the rest of my shopping, then made Ally a quick lunch back at the house and let her pop in a movie.

I called Billy from my landline. “Did you get him?”

“He was using a pay phone at a campsite near Bridge Lake, west of Clearwater.” Billy sighed. “By the time they got there, he was gone. He probably had his vehicle parked below and cut through the woods. The tracking dogs lost the scent.”

“What are we going to do? I don’t want him to talk to Ally, and obviously I can’t meet him.”

“We don’t want you to do anything that puts you at risk, but—”

“There’s no way I’m meeting him.”

“I don’t blame you.”

“So what should I do?”

“He’s going to keep upping his demands, so we want you to be ready for that.” Billy’s voice was casual, but something felt off.

Then I got it. The police wanted me to meet with him, but they couldn’t ask me to do it.

Sandy got on the phone. “Sara, why don’t you come into the station this afternoon and we’ll discuss it?”

“Fine.”

*   *   *

I dropped Ally off at Meghan’s again—grateful her mom loved having her—and headed to the police station. Sandy and Billy took me into the room with the couch again. This time Billy sat down beside me and I studied the side of his face. Was Melanie right? Did he like me? He turned and flashed a quick smile, but I didn’t see a hint of anything other than friendliness. I had bigger things to worry about right now. Sandy paced back and forth in front of the couch.

I said, “You want me to do it, don’t you?”

Sandy said, “We can’t ask you to put yourself in danger.”

“What if I wanted to meet him?”

She jumped on it. “You need to pick the spot before he does, but do it casually, you don’t want him suspicious. Location is paramount—we have to consider the public’s safety.”

“What about my safety? Aren’t you supposed to be worried about that?”

“Of course your safety is our primary concern. We’ll make sure—” She caught herself. “If you decided you wanted to do this, we’d be there the entire time.”

“Oh, perfect, so he can spot you and then kill me?”

“He’d never know we were there. We’d pick a location that doesn’t have a lot of people around, but nothing too remote, and we’d have undercover officers covering you every minute.”

Billy said, “We’ll plant a wire device on you, but the plan is for us to arrest him before he has a chance to get close to you.”

“Wait a minute. You have a plan already? When did I agree to do this?”

They stared at me.

Finally Billy said, “Nobody’s planning anything, we’re just talking. But if this is something you choose to do so we can arrest John, we’ll do everything in our power to protect you. Like Sandy said, your safety is our main concern.”

I eyed Sandy. “I’m not so sure about that.”

Sandy pulled a chair close in front of me and sat down. She grabbed a file off the table at her side, pulled out a picture, and thrust it in front of my face.

“I want you to take a good look, Sara.”

It was a photo of Danielle’s corpse. Her face was pale, her neck bruised. Her eyes bulged out and her blackened tongue stuck out of her mouth.

I jerked back in my chair and closed my eyes.

Billy grabbed the photo out of Sandy’s hand.

“What the hell, Sandy?”

“I’m getting a coffee.” She shoved the file at him and walked out of the room. The door banged shut behind her.

“I can’t believe she did that.” I pressed my hand against my heart. “Her eyes and her tongue…”

Billy sat on the couch near me. “I’m really sorry, Sara.”

“Aren’t there rules about that sort of stuff? She’s a sergeant!”

“I’ll talk to her. She’s just in a bad place today. Losing Danielle was really hard on her. She wants to catch John before he kills someone again—we all do.”

“I understand, but I have a daughter. If something happened to me…” My voice broke.

Billy leaned back in the couch and let out a big breath.

“And that’s another reason we need to catch him soon—so you can stop living in fear. But if it makes you feel any better, you’re probably the one person who’s not in danger from John. You’ve done a great job at gaining his trust.”

“Does he trust me, though? He still makes sure he doesn’t stay on the phone long. So why is he willing to risk meeting me?”

“It’s possible he’s setting up a meeting so he can do countersurveillance and see whether you’re working with the police. He’s a hunter, so he either stalks his prey or flushes them out. But I think he really does trust you. He’s arrogant enough to believe you would never betray him.”

Prey, that’s exactly what I was to John. But I felt more like a sitting duck. My stomach rolled.

“But I am lying, and when he realizes—”

“He’ll be in handcuffs. But maybe you shouldn’t meet him, Sara. Not if you’re this scared.”

“Of course I’m scared, but that’s not it. I just … I need to think about it.”

“You should think it over.”

“And I’ve got to talk to Evan.”

“Sure, if he has any concerns I’d be happy to talk with him.”

That would go over great. But I said, “I’ll let you know.”

*   *   *

Billy walked me out of the station. There was no sign of Sandy, who I hoped was getting reamed out by a superior.

At the Cherokee he said, “I won’t lie to you, Sara. Meeting with John is risky, but you already know that. But I also know you’ll make the right decision in the end.” Then he closed my door.

I picked up Ally and made my way home, still trying to figure out what had just happened back at the station. Was I actually considering meeting John? Had I totally lost my mind? For the rest of the afternoon, Ally and I played at the park with Moose, but only part of me was there. My cell phone was mercifully quiet, but my head spun. Should I do it? Was I a horrible person if I didn’t? What if he killed another woman? But what if he killed me?

My mind conjured images of Ally and Evan weeping at my funeral, of Lauren raising Ally and Evan taking her for ice cream when he came home on weekends. But then there were the images of me standing bravely in a park, spotting John and speaking cryptically into a wire device. A SWAT team swarms in and wrestles him to the ground. Families of the victims call with tearful thanks, saying they’ve finally found peace.

No matter where my thoughts took me, I couldn’t get the image of Danielle’s face out of my head. I hated that Sandy used her photo to manipulate me. I hated that it worked.

*   *   *

Later, while Ally had her bath, Evan and I talked on the phone. When I told him John wanted to meet, his first response was, “No way, Sara. You can’t do it.”

“But what if this is the only chance to catch him?”

“You can’t risk your life like that—what about Ally?”

“I said that too, but the cops don’t think I’m in any real danger, and—”

“Of course you’re in danger. He’s a serial killer and he just murdered a woman. Isn’t he already breaking his pattern or whatever they call it?”

“They said they could protect me and they’d arrest him before we even spoke, and—”

“This isn’t your responsibility.”

“But think about it, Evan. This could get him out of our lives for good. Catching him would make me feel like I did something right. I’m in constant limbo, wondering what he’ll do next, when he’ll call, what he’ll say. You know what this is doing to me—to us. If they arrest him everything can go back to normal and we can just enjoy planning the wedding.”

“I want you alive. Nothing else matters if he kills you.”

“What if the cops used another girl as a decoy or—”

“He’s seen pictures of you. If he realized it wasn’t you, he could go nuts and hurt lots of people, including you and Ally. I told you before, the police are just using you as bait. I won’t let you risk yourself like that.”

“You won’t let me?”

“You know what I mean. You’re not doing it, Sara.”

Part of me wanted to argue, the part that hated being told what to do, but a bigger part was relieved he’d made the decision for me.

“I was going to say I’ll tell them tomorrow, but they’re probably listening anyway.”

Evan shouted into the phone, “She’s not doing it.”

*   *   *

After that call I thought I’d hear from Billy or Sandy, but the phone was blissfully silent. The next day John called.

“Did you think about meeting me?”

“Yeah, and I still don’t think it’s a good idea. It’s too risky.”

“You said the cops don’t know.”

“But I told you last time, they might be following me.”

“They have no proof you’re my daughter and no idea we’re talking.”

God, he was smart. I was running out of ways to say no. I went back to the police excuse—it was all I had.

“They still might be watching, and—”

“Don’t you want to meet me?”

“Of course I do. But if the police are following me it could turn into a big shoot-out.”

“I’ll protect you.”

I almost laughed at the irony. The police wanted to protect me from him and he wanted to protect me from the police.

“I know. But I have a daughter—I just can’t risk my life like that.”

“What’s Ally doing right now?”

“She’s in bed.”

“Do you read stories to her?”

“All the time.”

“What’s her favorite?”

I hesitated. The police said not to lie to him, but I couldn’t stand the idea of him knowing intimate details about Ally.

“She loved Where the Wild Things Are.” She hated it.

“What’s her favorite color?”

“Pink.” Ally loves candy-apple red. Brighter the better.

“I have to go. I’ll think about our meeting.”

“No, John. I’m not going to meet you—”

But I was talking to air.

*   *   *

John was making his way back down south—toward me. A trucker thought he’d seen someone near the pay phone around the time of the call, but he couldn’t describe him and hadn’t seen what he was driving. I barely slept that night, feeling John drawing near, hearing his tires on the pavement. The roads deserted as he traveled in the dark.

The next day, Monday, another package arrived. Billy and Sandy came over within a half hour of my phone call. Sandy and I hadn’t spoken since she’d ambushed me at the station, so when I opened the door I only greeted Billy. Sandy, marching to the kitchen with her briefcase in hand, didn’t seem to notice.

I held my breath while she carefully sliced open the box and lifted out a white jewelry box with her gloved hands. A small yellow envelope was taped on top. She set the box down on the counter and gently removed the envelope. Then she used a penknife to slice into the top, leaving the sticky part untouched. With tweezers she slid a card out of the envelope.

In bold blue pen it said, For Ally, love from Grandpa.

I stepped back in horror.

“You okay, Sara?” Billy said.

“That’s disgusting.” How dare he write to my child! I wanted to rip him apart from limb to limb, wanted to rip the card up in a million pieces.

Billy gave a sympathetic smile.

He held open a bag and Sandy carefully slid the envelope and card into it. Next he slowly lifted the lid off the jewelry box. Both Sandy and Billy were crowding over it, so I couldn’t see the contents.

Sandy shook her head. “What a sick bastard.”

“Let me see,” I said.

They moved to the side as I came closer. Nestled in white cotton was a doll dressed in a pink sweater and blue jeans. I remembered Danielle’s sister sobbing on TV as she described what Danielle was wearing the last time she was seen alive. But it was the sight of the auburn hair glued to the faceless head that hit me the hardest. As I stared at the smooth metal my brain superimposed the image of her face agonized in death. I turned away.

Sandy said, “You need to have a good look in case he asks you anything.”

“Just give me a minute.” I sat down at the table and took a few deep breaths. “I keep seeing her face in that photo.”

“Have you given any more thought to meeting with him?” Sandy spun around, still holding the jewelry box.

“Evan won’t let me. He’s too worried.”

Billy nodded. “He wants you to be safe.”

“It’s so risky.” I stared at the box in Sandy’s hands. “But if I did it…”

“We arrest him and this all ends,” Billy said. “The gifts, the phone calls…”

“Women being murdered,” Sandy said.

“You know, Sandy, the guilt trip doesn’t help. What you did with the photo was horrible.”

She glanced at Billy, who cleared his throat. Her jaw tightened, but she said, “You’re right, Sara. That was over the line.”

For a moment I was startled, but as I met her eyes and she looked away, I knew there wasn’t one speck of sorry in her. I shook my head and turned back to Billy.

“I thought about the exact same things, Billy, but if I do it Evan’s going to be really upset.”

“Do you want me to talk to him?”

“No, it would just make it worse if he felt you were pressuring me. He doesn’t think I should be helping at all, it’s too dangerous. And he’s right. I’m risking Ally, especially now that John knows about her.”

“We don’t believe your family is at risk, but—”

“But he wants something from us. You said it yourself a couple of times—his demands keep increasing. What’s next? He demands to meet Ally?”

“That’s one of our concerns too. If we don’t act fast he’ll keep escalating.”

“But if I meet him so much could go wrong.”

Billy nodded. “Yes, it could. That’s why we’re not asking you to do it—even though this may be our only opportunity to stop him.”

“What if he got away? He’d know I tipped you off.”

“You’ve already set up a good explanation for that—the media coverage. You’ve warned him we could be following you.”

“But he might not believe it, and then he’d either disappear again or decide to punish me.” We were all silent. After a moment I said, “What are your chances of catching him any other way?”

“We’re trying everything we can, but…” He shook his head.

“Maybe he’ll stop, he’s getting older.”

But I already knew how unlikely that was before Billy said, “Serial killers don’t just stop. They get caught, usually for other crimes, or they die.”

Sandy held out the jewelry box. “I hope you like these, because you’re going to be getting a lot more of them.”

I glared at her. “That’s really nice.”

“It’s reality.”

Billy’s voice was firm. “Sandy, give it a rest.” I expected her to tell him off, but she just studied her cell. He turned to me. “Are you ready to have a closer look at the doll?”

I took a deep breath and nodded. Sandy handed me a pair of gloves. After I slid them on, she passed me the box.

“Just hold it by the edges and don’t touch anything else.”

As I examined the doll carefully, I tried not to think of Danielle, how pretty she was, how her hair was the same color as mine, how she died with my father’s hands around her throat.

*   *   *

John called later that day from his cell when I was making a cup of coffee.

“Did she get it?”

“The doll arrived, yes. Thanks.” I almost choked on the last word.

“Did you give it to Ally?”

“No, she’s just a little girl, John. She wouldn’t understand—”

“You won’t let me talk to her, and now you won’t let me send her presents? I made it for her.”

“I’ll save it until she’s older. She’s so young—I was worried she’d lose it.”

He was breathing heavy into the phone.

“Are you okay?”

It sounded like he was talking through clenched teeth when he said, “No—the noise. It’s bad right now.”

I stood motionless, my hand still on the coffeepot. What noise? I strained my ears. Did he have another girl? I heard something. Laughter? Then chopping sounds. An axe hitting wood?

I forced myself to take a slow, deep breath.

“John, where are you?”

The sound stopped.

“Can you please tell me where you are?”

“I’m at a campsite.”

My heart went into overdrive. “Why are you there?”

He hissed into the phone, “I told you—the noise.”

“Okay, okay. Just talk to me. What are you doing at the campsite?”

“They’re laughing.”

“Drive away. Please, I’m begging you, just drive away.”

The sound of a truck door opening. “They have to stop—”

“Wait! I’ll meet you. Okay? I’ll meet you.” God help me.

*   *   *

Now you know why I had to see you a day early. It took me a few minutes to get John back in his truck and away from the campsite. I just kept telling him how great it would be to meet him, basically getting him to focus on something else. It was hard at first—he kept talking about the noise, then about the campers laughing. Then I’d say something like, “I can’t believe I’m finally going to meet my dad.” Eventually he calmed down and said he’d phone soon so we could arrange our meeting. I’m supposed to go see Billy and Sandy after I’m done here—they want to go over everything in case John wants to set up something right away. He’d called from just north of Merritt, a small town only four hours from Vancouver. He was heading in this direction.

When I told Evan last night he said, “They’re just manipulating you, Sara.”

“They who?”

“All of them—the cops and John.”

“Don’t you think I’m smart enough to know when I’m being manipulated?”

“Meeting with John is reckless when you have a child. Did you even think about her? You had no right to agree to something this big without talking to me first.”

“Are you kidding me? I put Ally above everything—you know that. And where do you get off telling me what I have a right to do?”

“Sara, you need to stop yelling or I’m—”

“You need to stop being a jerk.”

Now his voice was raised. “I’m not going to talk to you if you keep yelling.”

“Then you shouldn’t say asshole things like that.”

He was silent.

“So now you’re not going to speak at all? And I’m the immature one.”

“I’m not discussing anything with you until you take it down a notch.”

I gritted my teeth and took a few big breaths. Forcing myself to speak calmly, I said, “Evan, you have no idea what it was like talking to him, knowing he was picking out his next victim. If I didn’t say the exact right thing, someone was going to die. Can’t you understand how horrible that felt? Billy said the faster we catch him, the faster he’s out of our lives. And it’s true. Even if the cops are manipulating me, it doesn’t change the facts.”

Evan was silent for a long moment, then finally said, “Shit. I hate this, Sara.”

“Me too. But can’t you see I didn’t have any other choice?”

“You had another choice—you just didn’t take it. I get why you felt you had to say yes, but I still don’t like it, and I don’t agree with it. If it’s going to happen, then I want to be home. I’ll shut down the lodge if I have to, but I want to ride with the cops when it goes down.”

“I’m sure they won’t have a problem with that.”

We talked for a little while longer. He apologized for accusing me of being reckless, I apologized for calling him names, then we said our good nights. But I don’t think either of us actually had one. I spent hours staring at the ceiling. All I could think about was the campers John had been watching. They didn’t know how close to death they’d come. Then I wondered how close I was.