Nightwatcher (Nightwatcher #1)(97)

It isn’t a piece of paper at all, he realizes, flipping it over.

It’s a photograph, showing a sullen-looking adolescent girl and a grinning boy Vic recognizes as Jerry, posing in front of a bedraggled-looking sofa with a smiling man who looks to be about thirty and bears a strong resemblance to Jerry.

Is he the twins’ father?

As he turns to alert Rocky, Vic’s phone rings. He answers it immediately.

After listening for a moment, he says, “I’ll be right there.” He hangs up and turns to Rocky. “I have to go.”

“I sure as hell hope that’s a break in your case now that I’ve got my Nightwatcher, Vic. I’d offer to help, but I think you guys are probably fine on your own.”

“Take a look at this, Rock.” Vic hurriedly hands him the photograph. “Just make sure, okay? Be absolutely certain Jerry is your guy, because—”

“What, am I an idiot? He’s my guy. Or gal. We have his sick trophies to prove it, and I guarantee you that when they check that strand of hair down at the lab, it’s going to come back synthetic, and a perfect match for that wig, just like I said to our pal Jerry before. Or Jamie. Or whatever the hell he/she/it calls itself.”

Vic doesn’t have time to linger, and he doesn’t bother to respond.

This is, after all, Rocky’s case, not his. Maybe under other circumstances—less extraordinary circumstances—

But not now.

Rocky has his job to do, and I have mine.

By the time Vic leaves the room a second later, he’s got terrorists on his mind again.

The night drags on into the wee hours.

Both Allison and Emily have dozed off sitting up on the couch, and even Officer Green is starting to look drowsy, but not Mack. He’s wide awake, as he always seems to be, regardless of the hour or his level of physical and emotional exhaustion.

Watching his sister, sitting in the armchair across from his, cover a deep yawn, he says quietly, “I bet they’d let you go home if you want. There’s really no reason for you to stay. You should be there when the kids wake up.”

She’s shaking her head before he finishes speaking. “I’m not leaving you tonight.”

He checks his watch. “It’s morning.”

“I’m not leaving you this morning,” she returns smoothly.

“Well, you should.”

“What, are you kidding? With everything that’s going on here?” She waves a hand around the room.

He looks from the two sleeping women to the lone cop who’s standing in the window, staring out into the darkness as if waiting for something to happen.

“You’re right,” he tells Lynn dryly, “there’s a hell of a lot going on here.”

“You know what I mean.”

“I do. And I appreciate it, but I’ll be fine if you go. Really.”

“I know you’ll be fine, but . . . you shouldn’t be alone. You need family right now, whether you realize it or not. You lost your wife, Mack.”

“I feel like I lost Carrie a long time ago. Maybe I never had her in the first place. Maybe I just married her because I was terrified of losing Mom, and I needed someone . . . Maybe I never even loved her. Jesus, I hate myself for saying that, for sounding that way, but it’s true.”

“Don’t hate yourself. I’ve said the same kinds of things about Dan, and I’ve probably actually meant them, but even now, if something happened to him, I’d be devastated.”

Devastated.

Is Mack devastated?

He threads his fingers into his hair. “I don’t even know what I’m feeling right now. It’s complicated.”

He glances at the other two women, ensuring that they’re both asleep. Not that Allison hasn’t already been privy to his deep, dark secrets, but still . . .

This is a private conversation he needs to have with his sister alone. She’s the only family he has left. The only family he hasn’t entirely cut off, anyway, besides his father, who is so far gone most of the time he doesn’t even know his own name, let alone his son’s.

Mack takes a deep breath. It’s time to get the truth out there. The whole truth. Even though the truth makes him look and feel like a coldhearted bastard.

Where to begin?

At the end, he decides. That’s the part that’s bothering him more than anything. The way it ended.

“On Tuesday morning, before Carrie left for work, I told her I wanted a divorce.”

His sister’s eyes widen. She says nothing.

“We were trying to start a family,” Mack goes on. “At least, I thought we were. But Carrie changed her mind about that. And I changed my mind about her.”

“Did you mean it?” Lynn asks. “About wanting a divorce? Or were you just saying it in a moment of anger?”

Mack swallows hard. Nothing but the truth.

“I meant it,” he confesses.

Lynn gets up and walks over to him.

Officer Green turns as if snapping out of a reverie, glances at them both, and goes back to staring out the window.

Kneeling beside Mack’s chair, Lynn takes his hands. The gesture unleashes a torrent of emotion that rushes into Mack’s throat, rendering him mute.

“I can’t imagine how you must feel,” she whispers sadly. “I’m so sorry. But don’t blame yourself for anything. You were being honest with her. She didn’t deserve anything less.”