“She’s obviously not the ghost,” I said. “She’s still alive.”
“You keep on telling yourself that,” Boswell said. “But I know what I know. Oh, I’m used to people writing off what I say. But then you find out theyareputting tracking devices in cereal boxes. And theyarerecording heartbeats through your smart watch. And the FPMPisreal.”
Wait, there were tracking devices in cereal boxes? Never mind.
“I’m not going anywhere with that woman—alive, or dead.” Boswell turned on his heel, fully intending to walk away. He was so convinced of his own delusions that he was willing to shed the van he lived in, along with everything he owned, to get away from Sarah.
Exactly like she was doing to stay one step ahead of Sledge. You would think there’d be some common ground between the two of them. But, for the life of me, I couldn’t see it.
I was at a crossroads. Do my job—do what no one had ever done for me, bring Boswell in and get him the support he clearly needed. Or stick with Sarah, and pay for it later.
Well…it wouldn’t be the first black mark on my permanent record. Plus, HQ knew how to find Boswell’s van. I’d bring him in later.
As Boswell sped off in his van without a backward glance, I called for backup, and soon a standard F-Pimp Lexus pulled up. I’d been expecting a random driver, and was surprised to see Jacob, and Evelyn, too. Apparently, Jacob was still hoping to test drive her tech. Hopefully she’d honored my request to fend him off…although I knew how persuasive Jacob could be. If by persuasive, you mean relentless.
This was good, though. Because time was running out for me, and pretty soon the apartment would be an official crime scene. I had to get back there myself for one more look, but I wouldn’t trust any random driver with Sarah. She was too skittish, too slick. Between Jacob’s laser focus and Evelyn’s empathy, though, I knew Sarah was in capable hands.
“Listen to me,” I told Sarah, “that’s not just another agent in that car—it’s my husband. And he is the smartest, most capable guy I know. If anyone can keep you safe from Sledge, it’s him.”
When I told Jacob I was gonna Uber back to grab the car I’d left behind at the apartment, he locked eyes with me, and there was the smallest of pauses before he said, “Okay. I’ll see you at the office.”
He knew it wasn’t about the car—anyone could go grab it—but he trusted me enough to play along. Even if he didn’t know the details.
And then Evelyn scrambled out and said, “I’ll ride with Vic.”
“That’s okay,” I said, “I got this.”
“But I’m really allergic to cats.”
So was I, but Posy Simon was well-contained. More likely the smell of cat pee didn’t appeal. Jacob looked puzzled by Evelyn jumping ship, but I wasn’t gonna make a whole thing of it and give Sarah any reason to take off. “Get Sarah situated,” I told him as I ordered the Uber. “We’ll be right behind you.”
Jacob hated not being in on the plan. But he had my back, and with a curt nod—and maybe an overlong eye-lock—he relented and whisked Sarah off to the FPMP.
As the ubiquitous black sedan disappeared into traffic, Evelyn let out a long, slow breath as she tapped frantically at the inside of her own wrist. “Psychopaths are exhausting.”
“Sarah’s apsychopath?”
Evelyn flushed. “Oh, sorry, I….” A sheepish shrug. “Obviously, that’s not a clinical diagnosis.”
“But she seemed so normal. In her old pictures, at least.”
Evelyn studied me for a long moment, weighing her words. “Well, a psychopath won’t go walking around with a sign that says,Look at me, I’m dead inside.Lots of them are plenty smart, and they learn how to mimic normal behavior early on. They can even be surprisingly charming.”
Hard to picture Sarah charming anyone. Though shehadmanaged to charm Sledge. Lucky her.
Evelyn said, “That’s what I meant bymasking, and it’s just what it sounds like. A veneer hiding a true self that’s only concerned with the person’s own wants and needs, with no regard for anyone else.”
I supposed that might explain Sarah’s flatness. If she wasn’t actively performing, trying to figure out what the social situation called for, she’d default to a pretty minimal state.
“What you’d really need to watch out for is jealousy,” Evelyn said.
So. A psychopath and a sadist walk into a bar…and pick up an unsuspecting woman, take her home and kill her? Then they part ways…and the psycho comes back for her cat? No doubt I’d seen weirder things. But that scenario seemed pretty far-fetched.
The Uber was quiet, save the driver chattering on about the upcoming game and listing a bunch of random players on his fantasy football team. He let us off by the government-issued black sedan. But I made no move to climb in. “You want to take another look at the apartment,” Evelyn guessed.
“I’m that obvious?”
“It just makes logical sense.”
