Nightwatcher (Nightwatcher #1)(93)

The route home was the same but this time there was no satisfaction in it; this mission was unaccomplished.

For now.

But I’ll be back. I don’t care how long it takes, or how far or fast Allison Taylor runs. Sooner or later, I’ll find her.

Jamie turns off the tap and reaches for a towel.

Finally, the makeup is gone, the face in the mirror wiped cleaner than it’s been in a long, long time.

“I’m sorry, Jamie,” Jerry is saying. “I didn’t mean . . .”

“I know, Jerry. I know. But I told you never to open Mama’s bedroom door.”

“I know you did. I’m sorry.”

Jamie sighs, staring into the mirror, hating what has to be done.

“It’s too late for sorry, Jerry.”

“But, Jamie—”

“Shut up!” Jamie reaches for the doorknob, opens the bathroom door.

There’s no way around it. Jerry is going to have to be punished. Jamie has no choice.

Rocky and Brandewyne are a half block away from the address Vic provided when Rocky’s cell phone rings.

“It’s probably Dale Reiss,” Brandewyne comments as he reaches for it, “wondering where the hell we are.”

“We’re not even late yet.” Rocky picks up the phone. “Yeah, Manzillo here.”

“Rock, it’s Tommy.”

The station house desk sergeant. “What’s up?” Rocky asks him.

“You still on your way to Hudson Street? Because we had a 10–66 at that address.”

A 10–66—a prowler.

“What’s going on, Tommy?”

“Female tenant walked in on someone in her apartment. She hit him and ran. I’ve got a couple of uniforms over there now, but by the time they got up there, the guy was gone. Looks like he went out a window. May have gotten in that way, too.”

Or with a key, Rocky thinks grimly. “What’s the woman’s name?” he asks, anticipating the answer.

Sure enough, Tommy replies, “Allison Taylor.”

“Is she okay?”

“Just shaken up.”

Rocky asks a few more rapid-fire questions and learns that it all happened about forty-five minutes ago—long enough for Jerry, if it was Jerry, to have gotten back up here. Allison didn’t get a good look at the intruder, Tommy says. The officers on the scene called for backup and are in the process of canvassing the building and neighborhood for the suspect, but so far, there’s no sign of him.

Rocky looks at the unmarked cars parked in front of Jerry Thompson’s apartment building. He can see a tall figure lurking in the shadows near the door. Vic.

“We’ll be down there as soon as we can,” he tells Tommy. “Tell everyone to sit tight in the meantime. We’ve got a lead we’re checking out.”

“But I’m sorry, Jamie,” Jerry says again, panic welling up inside him as he backs across the living room, shielding his face with his forearms. “I am. Please stop saying it’s too late.”

“You knew it was wrong to open that bedroom door, but you did it anyway. You’re just like the others. You have to be punished.”

“No!” Jerry cowers. “Please, Jamie! I’m—”

“Shut up! I said it’s too late!”

Jerry clamps his mouth shut. For a moment, the only sound is sirens wailing outside, in the distance. Jerry hates that sound. It never ends anymore. Sirens, always sirens.

Then Jamie says, “It’s my turn to say I’m sorry, Jerry, okay? And for me, it’s not too late. It’s too early.”

“Wh-what?”

“I’m sorry for what I’m going to do to you. I really am. And I want you to know that. I only wanted to protect you. If you had just listened to me . . .”

“I did listen, Jamie. I listened!”

“No! You didn’t! You never do! They never do! They never listen to me! Your mother didn’t, and your sister didn’t, and now you . . .”

Jerry’s blood goes cold.

That voice . . . it’s changed, become guttural, low, masculine-sounding . . . that doesn’t sound like Jamie’s voice.

“Who are you?” Jerry asks, terrified. “You’re not Jamie!”

“Yes, I am. You know I am.”

Jerry frowns, confused. He does know that, but . . .

He backs across the room, hugging himself, afraid of Jamie.

He’s been stuck here, in this apartment, for so long. Too long. He wants to leave. But Jamie won’t let him. Jamie said he has to be punished. That scares him.

He turns to look longingly out the window.

“You know,” Jamie says, “they say you’re a retard, but they’re wrong. You’re actually smarter than you look, aren’t you?”

“I’m smart,” Jerry tells him defiantly. “I am! Emily says so.”

“Does she? That’s nice. But I didn’t say you were smart. I said you were smarter than you look. If you were smart, you wouldn’t even be here, would you? You would have figured it all out a long time ago. But that’s why you needed me, Jerry. That’s why I came back here to find you, and help you. Because for all these years, I’ve been worried about you.”

Jerry shakes his head, again glancing out the window, remembering all those people who jumped out of the towers. He wonders what would happen to him if he jumped. Would he survive?