Mary, Mary

Chapter 29

I WAS FAIRLY CERTAIN the latest victim would have to be another Hollywood mother, but I couldn't help wondering if Mary Smith's methods had continued to evolve.

And how about the e-mails to the Times? The TV news and the Web would only give me half the story, at best.

If I wanted to know more, I would have to call in.

No, I reminded myself. No work until Monday No murder cases. No Mary Smith.

The machine beeped again, and Ron Burns came on. He was brief and to the point, as he almost always is.

“Alex, I've been in touch with Fred Van Allsburg in L.A. Don't worry about him, but I do need to ask you a few questions. It's important. And welcome back to Washington, welcome home.”

And then another call from Ron Burns, his voice still carefully modulated. “Alex, we've got a phone conference next week, and I don't want you coming in cold. Call me at home over the weekend if you have to. I'd also like you to speak with Detective Galletta in L.A. She knows something you need to hear. If you don't have her phone numbers, Tony can get them for you.”

The implication was clear already Ron Burns wasn't asking me to stay on this case. He was telling me. God, 1 was tired of this - the murders, the horrific cases, one after another. According to estimates at the Bureau, there were more than three hundred pattern killers currently operating in the United States. Hell, was I supposed to catch all of them?

I clicked Pause on the machine to take a second and decide how I felt about what was going on here. My thoughts went straight back to Mary Smith. I had let her into my head again. She'd caught my interest, my curiosity probably my ego. A female serial killer - could it be? Killing other women? Mothers?

But why? Would a woman do that? I didn't think so. I just couldn't imagine it happening, which didn't mean that it hadn't.

I also wondered if there had been another e-mail to Arnold Griner. What part did Griner, or the L.A. Times, play in all this? Did Mary Smith already have the next victim in her sights? What was her motivation?

That was the line of thought that finally got to me. Some unsuspecting woman, a mother, was going to lose her life in L.A. soon. A husband, and probably children, would be left behind. It hit too close to home for me, and I think Burns knew that when he called. Of course he did. several years before, my own wife, Maria, had been gunned down in a drive-by shooting. Maria had died in my arms. No one was ever convicted, or even arrested. My biggest case, and I'd failed on it. It was all so unspeakably senseless. And now this terrible case in L.A. I didn't need my PhD in psych to know that Mary Smith was pushing all my buttons, both personally and professionally Maybe I would just check in, I thought. Besides, Burns was right - I didn't want to show up behind the ball on Monday morning.

Damn it, Alex, you're weakening.

When I picked up the phone, though, I was surprised to hear Damon's voice already on the line.

“Yeah, I missed you, too. 1 was thinking about you. I swear I was, all the time.”

Then an adolescent girl's laughter. "Did you bring me anything from California, Day?

Mouse ears? Somethin', somethin'?"

I forced myself to hang up, quietly Yeah, I missed you, too? Who was this girl? And since when was Day keeping secrets? I had fooled myself into thinking that if a girlfriend came along, he'd want to tell me about it. That suddenly seemed like a silly delusion on my part. I'd been thirteen before, too.

What was I thinking?

One teenage moment down. About two million to go. I'd give him five minutes and then tell him it was time to hang up. Meanwhile, I went back to the answering machine - where another message was waiting.

A real mindblower.