Educated
OCD
The OCD reminds me of Tic Tac’s assignment to find out about the victims, so I finish off a bite of ice cream and call him. He doesn’t answer, and I toss down my phone.
I grab all the papers from the printer and make stacks by name on the floor. That’s what I do. I make a lot of stacks. I make a lot of lists. I pace and stare at the stacks and lists. And I eat, in this case, I eat ice cream and stare at the stacks. Frustrated, I end up just eating ice cream because I can think of nothing. Nothing. Holy fuck, I have nothing. I’m blank. I sit down on the floor in front of the stacks, ice cream still in route from the pint to my mouth, pint to mouth. Repeat, repeat—why the hell am I thinking of nothing helpful?
I rotate and look at the names on the board, and there are only two over forty: Murphy and Roger. It’s not either one of them. I lay down, and I repeat those names: Murphy and Roger. This mental block is about Roger, I decide, being objective about myself. I don’t want to deal with him. I don’t want to face him. I don’t want him to see the killer I see when I look in the mirror but I have to find a way to remove him from the picture, at least mentally.
There’s a sound downstairs, and most likely, it’s Kane, but for good measure, I grab my weapon and set it on my belly, trying to stay focused but ready to shoot anyone who isn’t Kane. Umbrella Man clearly has a fixation on me. He went through Murphy and Roger to get to me. Logically, this could be about Roger or even Murphy, but the common denominator is me.
There’s a sound by the door, and I glance over to find Kane crossing the room. I sit up, and he kneels in front of me, his jacket and tie gone, those brown eyes so black they could drag me to hell, and I’m pretty sure I’d burn there willingly.
“Are you planning to shoot me this time, Lilah?”
“Are you planning to give me a reason?”
“I thought I already did?”
“True. Very true.” I set the gun aside. “But not now. Now, I’m thinking. This case is all about me, Kane. Whoever this is has to be in law enforcement. They know things about me that makes that assumption logical. This person must have watched my career. This person knows forensics. And they managed to get rid of evidence I bagged at a scene. It just didn’t make it to the station. They know me. That means they know you.”
“What if it’s not law enforcement at all? Who else has been watching you just like they watched your mother?”
“Pocher? You think he hired someone to do this?”
“You did when you called me after the first murder.”
“I know, but I can’t let the Society become my fall guy for all cases.”
“And you can’t ignore them in this one, not right after I threatened them. Not when I targeted Pocher’s brother.”
“You had him kidnapped and then played hero and saved him. He knew you had him kidnapped. You wanted him to know. He can’t prove it but he knew.”
“Your point?”
“Which was supposed to back them off, not ignite another attack. He’s afraid of you, Kane. The more I think about this being the Society, the less likely that feels.”
“It’s a game of chess. We can’t assume to know their next move. That’s dangerous.”
A thought hits me. “What about Pocher’s brother?” I scoot to my knees, facing him. “Who is he? What is he? Could he be crazy and being kidnapped sent him over the edge?” I hold up a hand. “No. It doesn’t matter. Don’t answer. I’m losing it. I’m reaching. I don’t have my head in the game. I’m all over the place right now.” I catch myself on his knees and try to get up, but I never make it. Kane catches my legs.
“You have Roger in your head, Lilah,” he accuses, because Kane knows me, he knows my fears. “Did you see him?”
“He’s still in Connecticut handling another case.”
“He can’t see what’s not there.”
“It is there. I’m there for him to see.”
“You aren’t me, Lilah, I won’t ever let that happen.”
“We both know I’m already there.”
“No. You’re not already there. Trust me.”
“Because I now know that you’ll bury a body for me if I need you to?”
“Yes, Lilah. And it’s time we both said that out loud. Because I will bury a fucking body for you.”
“Are we really going to fucking go there, Kane?”
“It’s about damn time we did, don’t you think?”
My cellphone rings. “That’s going to be Tic Tac and—”
“He can wait, but I can’t. I’m not waiting. Not this time.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
Kane and I sit there on our knees in the middle of Purgatory, two people who go to our knees for no one, and yet, here we are now together. That night is between us, and he’s right; we can’t dodge this. I knew that last night. My mind goes there now, and I can almost feel the ocean air washing over me. Kane is holding my attacker. Blood and sand clump in my mouth from where my teeth have bitten into my tongue while my face has been shoved into the dirt. The drugs I’ve been given are blurring everything, except Kane holding that man, Kane who hasn’t killed him yet. He’s talking to him. My God he’s talking to him. And then there’s the blade in his belt, the one that I’m certain would have been used to kill me if Kane hadn’t shown up. Everything just fades into desperation and anger, and somehow, I’m stabbing my attacker over and over and over again. I just can’t make myself stop.
I snap back to the present and grab Kane’s shoulders. “I know you saved my life. In more ways than one. I don’t know what I would have said or done if I would have called the police that night. I don’t know what I would have become. Probably everything I don’t want to become, but you know I could.”
“No.” He strokes my hair from my face and tilts my gaze to his. “I didn’t let that happen.”
“I’m still angry at you for that night.”
“I didn’t get there in time. I didn’t stop him from raping you. I didn’t get him the hell out of there fast enough. I didn’t kill him fast enough. I will never let you down like that again.”
“So is that what we’re doing? Blaming you?”
“I’m okay with the blame, Lilah. I’m not okay without you.” His mouth closes down on mine, and suddenly, there is nothing but me and this man. We tug at our clothing. We tug at each other’s hair. We end up naked in the middle of the floor on top of all of my paperwork, and it’s as it used to be with Kane. There are
no more walls. There are no more barriers. We have no inhibitions. We roll to our sides. He rolls to his back. We end up in the chair with me on top of him, and I swear I yank a chunk of his hair out and that man moans like it’s pleasurable. When it’s all said and done, somehow, we’re back on the floor, naked, side by side, and leaning on the chair we were in a few minutes before.
I lay on his shoulder, and somehow, a part of my life that almost destroyed me, is a softer shade of ugly, at least the part that affected me with this man. But with that dulling, another knife has been sharpened. “In the back of my mind,” I say, “there’s been this question I haven’t wanted to speak out loud.”
“About your father?” he asks, and we turn to face each other.
“Yes. I keep thinking about that moment when I told him the Society had me raped, and he told me I was lucky they didn’t kill me. The plan was to kill me. I knew it was, I believed it was.”
“As did I.”
“Did my father know? And did he know they were going to kill my mother? Because Kane, I know they did. I know it.” I don’t give him time to answer. “If I find out that he did, I’m going to need you to kill him for me. I’ll have to ask you to kill him for me.”
His expression hardens, and he grabs the blanket on the chair and pulls it around me. “He’s your father. We won’t come back from that. Don’t ask me to do something we can’t survive.”
“If you don’t do it, I will, and I won’t come back from that. You know I won’t.”
“We’ll get the truth, and we’ll make decisions when we do, together.”
“Maybe we can just have him drugged and raped.” My cellphone rings, and I jolt. “I forgot it was ringing earlier. I have to get it.” Kane stretches to grab it from the desk before handing it to me.
We share a look that punches with history before he stands and starts pulling on his pants. I glance at Tic Tac’s number and answer. “Oh, thank God. I called you three times.”