And now he had my niece.

Patrick pulled the questioners off me. I knew the respite would be a brief one, but I was determined to make the most of it. I found a sofa and sat, steadying myself. My hands were shaking again. My stomach was sick, tossing, craving. I knew what I wanted, what I needed. I felt it with an urgency I had not experienced before, not since I woke up by the dam, not even when I saw the pictures.

He had won, he and the bottle. I knew I would get drunk tonight. I knew I would get drunk and stay drunk and be a drunk for the rest of my life. I had tried so hard. But I wasn’t strong enough.

I felt a sharp aching in my left wrist. God, I’d almost forgotten that was there. If only I’d done it right. I might be gone, but Rachel would be safe.

This was my fault. This was all my fault.

Next thing I remembered was Patrick sitting beside me, Darcy hovering behind him. Patrick was careful to keep his face sympathetic but calm, strong. And Darcy was expressionless. Was that because he wasn’t picking up on the nonverbal clues, didn’t comprehend my fear and sadness? No, I think he got it, perhaps more than anyone. He just didn’t know what to do about it. Who could?

“We have to ask you some more questions, Susan. Not just about what happened tonight, but about Rachel in general. Anything you can tell us about her that might be helpful.”

I felt so useless. I couldn’t speak. Couldn’t even raise my eyes to his.

“But I don’t know why it has to be done here,” Patrick continued. “Best if we take it back to headquarters.”

So I won’t be around if the crime techs start making discoveries? Like Rachel’s blood? Evidence of her death or torture?

“Why don’t you ride back with me? I’ll get a sergeant to bring your car-”

“No, I’ll drive,” I said, snapping out of it with a suddenness that startled both of us.

“I don’t think that’s wise.”

“I can do it. I’ll meet you back-”

He grabbed my wrist and held it tight. “We need you on this, Susan. We need you one hundred percent.”

I knew what he was saying. He knew why I wanted to drive myself. But it was all so far beyond my control.

O’Bannon crouched down beside me. “Susan, I’m sorry to have to do this to you, but you’re off the case.”

“What?”

“Your niece is a victim now. You’re too close. I could overlook your own involvement, but not hers. Effective now, your consulting contract is canceled. You can keep the desk. I’ll try to assign you something else when an appropriate case comes along. But as for now-”

That was when the phone rang, cutting him mercifully short. I don’t know what I thought I was doing. But I was sitting right next to it. So I picked it up.

No. I have to be honest. I knew who it was. And I knew it was for me.

“Yeah.”

“I have her.”

“Son of a bitch.” I clenched the receiver so tightly my fingers turned white. “Why Rachel?”

“I needed her. She’s the Vessel.”

“You said you cared about me, you bastard!” I shouted, feigning a toughness I did not feel. “If you do anything to her, anything like what you did to me-”

“Please calm yourself, dear. This is pointless.”

“I’ll make your god Poe look like an unimaginative grandma when you see what I can do. Have you hurt her?”

“Of course not.”

“What is it you want?” I cried. “What is it you want from me?”

“Now? Nothing. Nothing at all.”

“Then why-”

“I just called to tell you that you needn’t worry. I have Rachel, and I will take good care of her, after my fashion. There’s no chance that you’ll catch me or recover her. So relax and enjoy what little time is left.”

My head felt thick and unresponsive. There must be something I should do, something I should say. But what was it? “What do you mean, what little time is left?”

“I’ve told you before, Susan. The end times are upon us. I have everything I need now. Everything.”

“Let me talk to her. If you really haven’t hurt her, let me talk to her.”

A long sigh. Followed by: “Five seconds.”

The phone passed. “Oh, my God, Susan, it’s him. It’s really him. I haven’t been this scared since that day when we rented a video just after my parents-”

“Time’s up.”

“Bastard!” I wailed, my voice hoarse. “You could at least let her finish the sentence.”

“I’m afraid we must go, just in case you’re tracing.”

“Can I talk to her again tomorrow?”

“I… doubt she’ll be… able to communicate clearly.” I heard him sigh. “I wanted so much to save you, Susan. But I couldn’t do it. And who else is going to try?”

“What are you talking about?”

“I think you know. Good night, Susan. Try not to make a mess of it this time.”

The line disconnected.

While they were all babbling about the trace and the recording and what it meant, I stumbled to my car and drove away, fast, before Patrick got up the strength or numbers to stop me. My heart was pounding and my brain was racing. A thousand thoughts cruised through my head at once. It was like being drunk without being drunk. Was this what they called a dry drunk? I couldn’t focus. Couldn’t get a grip on myself, on anything.

Except one thing. I knew where I was going. Gordy’s. Back where this all began. It was appropriate, no? Symmetrical.

Had I ever really thought for a minute I could give up drinking? Who was delusional now? The bartender would still serve me, I thought, and if he didn’t, there was a liquor store next door. Hell, that might be quicker. What did it matter? No shortage of places to get drunk in Vegas.

Soon as I got there, I parked, popped open the car door, put one leg out-and froze.

Not voluntarily. I wanted to move. I kept telling myself to move. It was as if I’d lost all control, as if some alien being had taken over my body.

I closed my eyes and saw Darcy-Darcy, of all people-in my mind’s eye. The autistic savant, the boy who didn’t comprehend emotion, but who nonetheless had given me so much emotional support. He was just staring at me. He liked me, I’d have to be blind not to see that, but he wasn’t happy to see me. He was sad. So sad.

Rachel wasn’t sad. Worried, not sad. I saw almost everyone I knew, Lisa, Patrick, Granger, the chief, my parents, my suspects, all of them, all of them, all of them.

David.

They were so sad.

That’s what he wants you to do.

I somehow managed to get my leg back inside the car and close the door, but that was such a strain that I decided to forget about trying to move again for a while.

Try not to make a mess of it this time.

My wrist throbbed. Throbbed, like an aching in the hollow of my heart.

“Don’t let him win, sugar bear.”

“It’s so… hard,” I said, even though I knew I wasn’t speaking.

“Naturally,” David replied, with his understanding smile. “It’s meant to be.”

“I wish you hadn’t done it, David. I wish you hadn’t.” I folded over on the seat, hands tucked into my lap, cradling like a fetus. “I just wished you’d loved me enough to stay.”

David looked at me with heavy eyes. “I’m sorry, Susan. It’s hard to admit, but-there are times when love has nothing to do with it.”

I lay on the seat like a pathetic baby, which is exactly what I was. “I don’t forgive you, David. Not now, not ever. I will not forgive you.”

His eyes only deepened. “This is my last visit, Susan.”

“What? Why?”

“Because you need to get on with it. And you won’t, as long as I’m around.”

And then he was gone. And I lay across the front seat of my beat-up car, crying into the vinyl, hurting, hurting so much.

But I was still inside the car.