“And?”

I punched his pillow. “And then they pulled out the report you filed. You blackballed me, you son of a bitch.”

“Hardly that. I just said-”

“You knew they wouldn’t reinstate me against your wishes. Your recommendation was critical!”

“Susan, listen to me.”

“Why should I, you bastard? I did your dirty work for you! I caught your killer. I even-I even-what he did to me-” I broke down. Just lost it.

O’Bannon intervened. “Susan, stop.”

“Why should I?” I screamed. “I wanted my job back! Don’t you understand-it’s all I have left!”

He looked at me with tired, cheerless eyes. “You’re not ready, Susan.”

“Who the hell are you to judge?”

“You know it as well as I do. If I reinstate you, that means you carry a gun. That means maybe a partner depends on you for their life. Are you ready for that kind of responsibility?”

“I caught Edgar!”

“You’re an alcoholic, Susan. We both know it. I think you’re trying to pull yourself out of that gutter, but how can I know whether you’ll make it? You’re a brilliant behaviorist, but until I’m certain you’re one hundred percent, I will not put another officer’s life in your hands.”

I fell back in my chair, feeling all the pain, the hurt, the futility wash over me. “What can I do?”

“You can go back to those IOP meetings, for starters. Join AA. Get a sponsor. Read the Big Book. Work the steps.”

“I’m not the talky-feely type.”

“You’ll force yourself. You’ll get better. And when your doctor tells me you’re solid, I’ll put you back on the team. In the meantime, your consultation contract continues. Believe me, I can find plenty for you to do. You won’t be bored.”

He fiddled with the controls on his hospital bed, raising himself. “And now that we’ve got that out of the way, would you mind dropping by the house to check on Darcy? He called the front desk-he’s having some kind of problem. He’s been all by himself since I went into the hospital. He’s a good kid, but-you know how he is. He needs someone looking out for him. And God knows there’s no one he likes better than you.”

“Oh, that’s not-”

“Don’t kid a kidder, Susan. He adores you. I’m his old man, sure, but I know the score. I love him, but he’s wary of me. Too much discipline-or attempted discipline, anyway. Too many mistakes. Too many unresolved issues. And I’m laid up. So would you run by and see what’s going on? He probably just needs someone to hold his hand for a minute. Would you do that?”

“If I say yes, will you reinstate me?”

“Hell, no. But I’d consider it a personal favor. I think your daddy would, too.”

Bastard would play any card in his deck, wouldn’t he? “Fine, I’ll go. But you can stuff your damn consulting contract.”

“Are you sure? Why?”

“After I see Darcy, I’m blowing town.”

I rang the bell and Darcy came to the door almost immediately. His eyes were like balloons. His hands were flapping. He ran around in circles, screaming, barely coherent, even worse than when I’d taken him to that sex club. “Fire! Fire!”

I raced inside. The kitchen was indeed on fire, flames shooting out from the microwave oven. Looked like he’d been reheating some Pizza Hut chicken wings, but he’d left the food in the box with the foil wrapping. Darcy ran circles around the kitchen table, screaming, running his fingers through his hair. He collided into the wall. He fell backward against the table and hit his head.

I grabbed him and held him in place. “Darcy, where is the fire extinguisher?”

He was so messed up he couldn’t talk, could only point. I opened the pantry door and grabbed the extinguisher. A minute or so later, the fire was out. But the kitchen was a mess. As was Darcy.

He crumpled on the floor, hunched over the linoleum, rocking back and forth, babbling incoherently, hitting himself in the face.

“I called and asked Dad about dinner but Dad couldn’t fix dinner so I thought that’s fine I’ll fix my own dinner and I did but the oven was mad at me and it started a fire and I didn’t know what to do and…”

On and on and on. He hit himself so hard he made bruises.

I had to do something. I reached around him with my good arm and grabbed both hands, restraining him. Becoming his human straitjacket.

“All I wanted was something to eat but there was no one here and there’s never anyone here anymore and I was all alone and I didn’t know what to do and did you know that sixty-seven percent of all domestic fires begin in the kitchen but I opened the microwave and the flames just leaped out they just leaped out like they were trying to get me they wanted to punish me because I did a bad thing a really really bad thing…”

I hugged him tighter and tried to speak in a soft, soothing voice. I figured it didn’t really matter what I said. He just needed to hear someone. It was hard, because I had one arm in a cast and the other ached at the wrist, but I held on to him.

“It hurt so much and I was all alone and I didn’t know why the Bad Man came why the Bad Man always comes when I’m asleep I didn’t want to hurt him I didn’t want to hurt anyone I didn’t hurt Mommy I really didn’t but he was going to hurt Susan because I wanted to ask you about babies and I couldn’t let him hurt Susan…”

God, my heart ached for him. He couldn’t be left on his own like this.

I whispered into his ear. “It’s all right, Darcy. Susan is here. Susan is right here.”

“And sometimes it’s dark and I hear these noises and I don’t know what the noises are and I don’t like it when people touch me why do people always want to touch me I want to be touched but when they touch me it makes me want to run away and I don’t want to be here by myself anymore I don’t I don’t I don’t…”

I felt myself choking, feeling his pain, wondering what it must have been like for Chief O’Bannon, raising this boy by himself all those years, dealing with this kind of panic attack not just once when you happen to drop by but every day, every day of your life.

The words tumbled out of me. I didn’t even think before I spoke. This boy had done so much for me, had supported me throughout this whole horrific case. Maybe it was time I returned the favor. “It’s all right, Darcy. I’m here. And I’m not going anywhere.”

I held him like that for more than an hour before he calmed down. I didn’t mind. Even though it hurt, I didn’t mind. Once he was calm again, I fixed a proper dinner, then cleaned up the kitchen mess and made myself a place to sleep on the couch.

I took a shower, and when I stepped out of the bathroom with-thank God-a towel wrapped around myself, I found Darcy standing outside the door.

He was gasping for air and dripping with perspiration. And he was holding a frozen custard in each hand.

“I hope that you are in the mood for custard. I thought that you might be in the mood but I wasn’t sure so I ran all the way to Third Street. And back.”

“Just because you wanted me to have a bedtime snack?”

His face was like a shimmering sheet of tinfoil. “Because any day you have a custard is a Very Excellent Day. And I thought that maybe you could use a Very Excellent Day.”

That night, before I fell asleep, I cried. Streams of tears, endless flows of salt water, cascading down my face. But it was a good cry. One I’d been saving up for a long time.

Guess I won’t be going to L.A. after all.