Cherry Bomb

CHAPTER 7

I CABBED IT from the Crime Lab, heading for the nearest Washington Mutual bank branch. Again, the driver commented on how soaked I was. Next time it rained, I’d indulge in a thicker bra. Or an umbrella.

During the ride I made some calls. One I didn’t want to make. The other I really didn’t want to make. I began with the easier one.

“Wilbur? It’s Jack.”

“How are you holding up, sweetheart?”

“I’ve been better. Thanks for respecting my wishes and not attending the funeral. Mom would have shot you if she saw you.”

“Um, about that…”

I took a deep breath-never a wise move in a Chicago cab. This one smelled like gym socks and cheap incense.

“Tell me you weren’t there, Wilbur.”

Pause.

“Wilbur…”

“Your fiancé died. Of course I was going to come.”

“I didn’t see you there.”

“You didn’t see me at any of your graduations or your wedding either, Jacqueline. I’m good at being discreet. Look, I know I only met Latham once, when you brought him over, but for what it’s worth I really liked him. I’m so sorry for your loss, sweetheart. If there’s anything I can do…”

My voice got harder. “There is, Wilbur. In fact, there is.”

“Name it.”

“I need you to go away for a while. The person who killed Latham, she has a habit of targeting people close to me.”

Wilbur paused.

“Thank you, Jacqueline.”

“For sending you away?”

“For saying that I might actually be close to you. I know I’ve been an absentee father. I know how much I’ve missed out on. These past few months, as we’ve gotten to know each other, have been the best of my life. I mean that.”

“Good. Then you’ll get out of town for a few weeks, until this gets resolved.”

“Absolutely.”

“I mean it this time, Wilbur. No saying one thing and doing the other.”

“It’s already taken care of. In fact, I just booked a vacation. I’m taking an Alaskan cruise. It’s shipping out tomorrow.”

“Really?” Mom was also going on an Alaskan cruise tomorrow. I thought about mentioning it, but the chances that they would both be on the same ship were a zillion to one. Instead I said, “Good. Have fun.”

“I intend to. Maybe I’ll find a nice man on board.”

Mom said the same thing.

“Remember to wear protection. Or make sure he wears protection.” I wasn’t sure how my father’s relationships actually worked, and wasn’t sure that I ever needed to know.

“I promise. And speaking of protection, please make sure you protect yourself when you’re chasing Alex.”

“I will.”

“You’re going to kill her, aren’t you?”

I’d been wondering the same thing, but hearing a kindly old man say it made it sound horribly wrong.

“I’m…going to stop her.”

“I’ve saved every press clipping you’ve ever been in, Jacqueline. You arrested her before. She escaped. You can’t risk that again.”

“It’s…it’s complicated.”

“This isn’t murder, sweetheart.”

Jesus. The M word. I had a hard enough time living with myself as it was. I became a cop to catch murderers, because murder, in every single case, was wrong. Even in cases of revenge.

Every night since Latham’s death, I’ve lain awake in bed conjuring up scenarios where I blew Alex’s head off. Alex was always armed, trying to kill me as well. I evened the score, while also retaining my morality and humanity. But if I had the chance to murder her, in cold blood, would I take it?

“She’s a rabid dog, Jacqueline. It’s not murder. It’s mercy.”

I doubted the courts would see it that way. I doubted I would see it that way.

“Have a good time in Alaska, Dad. Call me when you get back.”

“You know, my heart gets a little bigger every time you call me Dad. I love you, sweetheart.”

Since Wilbur reappeared in my life, he’d accepted our relationship much more easily than I had. He’d been saying “I love you” for a few weeks now, but I wasn’t ready to return the sentiment yet. Being abandoned for thirty-plus years, even understanding the reason why, wasn’t easy to forgive.

“We’ll talk soon,” I said, and disconnected. Now for the hard call. His number wasn’t in my cell address book, so I had to use directory assistance. I hoped I’d get a machine, then I could leave a message, clear my conscience, without having to talk.

Just my luck, he picked up on the first ring.

“This is Alan.”

“Hi, Alan. It’s me.”

There was a pause. I wondered if he was thinking what I was thinking. About our years being married. About our recent affair. About him leaving me for a second time.

“I’m sorry about Latham.”

“Did Mom tell you?”

“I haven’t, uh, talked to your mother since we saw each other last. I signed up for this thing on the Internet. Google News. Every time you’re mentioned in the paper, they send me a link to the article.”

I was touched.

“You’re checking on me?”

“More like waiting for the obituary.”

Ouch.

“Well, sorry to disappoint you, but I’m still among the living.”

“Jesus, Jack. You know I don’t mean it like that.”

“Then what did you mean?”

“You need a reminder? The reason our marriage ended was because I couldn’t stand worrying about you all the time. Do you know what it’s like to lose someone you love?”

“Yeah.” My teeth clenched. “I just came from his funeral.”

“Oh, hell. Shit. I’m sorry. I’m an insensitive bastard.”

“Yes. Yes you are.”

“Good. We agree on something. So why the call?”

I searched my mind for the right words, the words that would make him listen to me. The silence stretched.

“I’m sorry, Jack. You can’t come here.”

Being cold and wet didn’t stop me from blushing. “Excuse me?”

“I feel bad for you. And I still love you. But you know my feelings. We can’t be together unless you quit the force.”

If I still carried around any remnants of affection for this man I was once married to, they were now gone. The conceit, the nerve…

“Have you quit?” Alan’s voice went from accusatory to hopeful. “Tell me you’ve quit.”

I recovered, found my spine. “No, Alan, I haven’t quit, and I don’t want to be with you. I don’t want to see you. I don’t even want to talk to you.”

“Then why are you calling? You think it’s easy for me to talk to you?”

“I’m…” I took a deep breath, let it out slow. “I’m calling to warn you. The psycho who killed Latham might be targeting people in my life.”

“You’re kidding.”

“It would be best if you went away for a few weeks.”

“You’re fucking kidding me.”

“Alan, I don’t like it any more than-”

“Are you serious?” He’d gone up an octave. “Are you fucking serious? Your job just killed your boyfriend. That could have been me. If we were still married, I’d be the dead one. How many times have we talked about your fucking career, about how dangerous it is?”

I shut my eyes, trying to stay professional even though it would have hurt less if he were in the cab with me, stabbing me with a fork.

“Alan, I’m sorry, but you really need to leave town.”

“You’re unbelievable. Unbefuckinglievable. You know what? All these years, I’ve been waiting to say I told you so. Well, here it is, Jack. I told you so. Who’s next? Herb? Your mother? Your best friends from grammar school? All because you chase killers for a living?”

Professionalism flew out the window.

“This killer is chasing me, Alan! It doesn’t matter if I quit my job, move to Tibet, join a goddamn monastery! She’s after me, and she may go after you too! So, please. Please. Take a long vacation and let me fix this.”

“I can take care of myself, Jack. In fact, I’ve been doing that quite well since you drove me away. It’s too bad, for Latham’s sake, you didn’t drive him away too.”

The fork twisted so hard that tears came.

“Please get out of town, Alan.”

“Don’t call me again. Ever.”

“Alan-”

He hung up. The tears became sobs, and pretty soon I was bawling so bad my nose was running down my chin.

“Miss? I try not to eavesdrop on my fares’ conversations, even when they’re yelling like you were, but I noticed you said something about being chased by a killer.”

“Don’t worry,” I told the taxi driver between sniffles. “I’m sure you’re safe.”

“I hope so. We’ve had a dark sedan following us since you got in the cab. Turns every time we do.”