The 7th Victim - Alan Jacobson [90]
Linwood swallowed hard. “Agent Vail . . . Karen. . . .” She sat back down on the edge of the sofa. “It was a long time ago. I was young and stupid and didn’t know any better. As soon as I realized the kind of person he was, I left him. It took me longer than it should’ve, but I was scared.”
Vail thought of herself, and her marriage to Deacon. She, too, should’ve seen the warning signs months sooner than she had. She looked up and realized the two of them were sitting there in silence, each absorbed in her own thoughts. “At least you were able to get away,” Vail managed. “A lot of women don’t have the fortitude to make the break.” She said it for her own validation as much as Linwood’s.
The senator was staring ahead, oblivious to Vail’s comments. “There’s nothing to be gained by making contact with him.”
“With all due respect, that’s not for you to decide.”
Linwood stood up and straightened her skirt. “I’m glad you came by, Agent Vail. It’s been nice visiting with you.” She turned the knob and held the door open. The universal sign for the end to an acrimonious meeting.
Vail remained seated. “‘It’s been nice visiting with you’? I’m your daughter, Senator, not one of your campaign donors.” Her voice was louder than she’d intended it to be—but she was tired, and angry, and her dreams of finding her mother had deteriorated into a nightmare. “Like it or not, Mother, I’m a part of you, always will be. Whether or not you want to admit it.”
“I think it’s time you left.” Linwood’s voice was firm, its volume matching Vail’s.
“Don’t you have any maternal instincts?” Vail’s hand found the outer pocket of her leather shoulder case. She pulled a photo and held it in front of Linwood’s face. “You’ve got a grandson, too—but that probably doesn’t mean anything to you, does it?”
Linwood looked past the picture and glared at Vail, her eyes cold and fierce. “Make sure you keep this information confidential. Or I’ll see to it you never work for any law enforcement agency again.” She turned and walked out of the room. Vail started to follow, but Hancock stepped in front of her, his arms spread like an eagle’s wings.
“I believe the senator asked you to leave.” He raised his eyebrows, expecting a sharp retort. But Vail was empty and numb. And sickened by the thought that Hancock was standing outside the door, listening to their conversation.
Vail shoved Hancock aside with a stiff forearm, then walked out of the house.
thirty-eight
He’d had the hardest time concentrating during class. All he could think about was his next bitch. And her eyes. He had bought a pair of night-vision binoculars at the local camping supply chain store and spent the last evening in surveillance of his new victim. It was a bit of a challenge, but what’s life without challenges?
First, however, he had to get rid of his last student. She wanted to finish her stinking vase. Jesus, she had to get it just right. He certainly understood the need for perfection, but he had more important things to deal with. He had to work extra hard to keep himself from doing something he’d regret later, because if she hadn’t left when she finally did, he would’ve had to take care of her. But she wasn’t the one, and killing her would’ve aroused suspicion. Others no doubt knew she had been at his class, and no one would’ve seen her leave. It was traceable back to him. So he had to keep his focus, keep thinking about his target.
Focus, challenges . . . nothing new in any of that. The rest of the evening—that was where things would be different. But he thought the thrill, the kill, and the aftermath would be well worth the uncharted waters. He’d know in a day whether or not he was right. But he suspected he would be. Because this was the one, the ultimate prize. Unlike the others, she knows what she does. And what she did.
He waited patiently for the right time, then felt the excitement. He was jittery. It was tough to get a full breath.
“It’s time! It’s time! It’s time!” He wanted to roll down the window and scream, but was able to control himself long