Never Knowing (32 page)

“No, my mother made me things for my headaches. She said the pain was spirits haunting me.”

“Do you think if you kill someone the spirits go away?”

“I know it. But I should go. I’ve got to watch my minutes. We’ll talk soon.”

He had to watch his
minutes
? Was that why he usually cut his calls short? I almost laughed.

“Okay, take care.”

After he hung up, I realized what I’d just said.
Take care?
It was just habit, something I often said to friends or family, but John was neither. Was I getting so used to talking to him that my subconscious no longer knew the difference?

*   *   *

When Billy phoned to tell me John had called from off the island, somewhere north of Prince George, before vanishing into the mountains, he sounded excited about how much I’d gotten him to reveal. I was excited too. So much makes sense now. All the literature says serial killers often feel euphoric after they’ve murdered someone, and for John that probably manifested into a belief that it made his headaches go away.

Billy also said that the first time John killed someone he was probably in his late teens. Since it was likely his first sexual experience too, it would’ve been even more intense. His mother, who abandoned him, probably spent his childhood filling his head with myths, which could easily explain why his kills are so ritualized. Serial killers tend to create elaborate fantasy worlds to protect themselves from isolation. I can only imagine what a young boy left up in the mountains who has to hunt to survive starts daydreaming about.

*   *   *

When Evan called that night I tried to share everything with him, but his answers were short and he asked me about other things, like work, or Ally, or whether I’d sent out the e-mail wedding invitation yet, which was odd because usually he’s the last to nag about stuff like that.

I said, “I haven’t had time to go through my e-mail addresses, but I’ll do it tomorrow.”

“Haven’t had time or didn’t want to?”

“I ran out of time, Evan. I was kind of busy, remember?” Realizing how bitchy I sounded, I softened my voice. “I’ll do it tonight, okay?”

We lapsed into silence, then I said, “It totally makes sense why he doesn’t have any boundaries. He probably didn’t get much socialization. And I bet if I looked up the weather around each time John attacked someone, there was a heat wave that summer or barometric pressure change—that can really affect migraines. You know how hot it gets in the Interior.”

Evan sighed. “Sara, can we talk about something else for a change?”

“Don’t you think it’s interesting he gets headaches like me?”

“It doesn’t change his being a killer.”

“I know that, but it helps me to know
why
he kills.”

“Does it really matter why? He just does it because he likes it.”

“Of course it matters. If we know why, we have a better chance of—”

“We? You know you’re not a cop, right? Or did you join the force while I was gone?” He was making a joke, but I sensed an undercurrent of tension. Anger rushed through my system.

Stop. Think. Breathe
. He was just taking shots because he was upset.
Don’t react. Go to the root of the problem.

“Evan, I love you more than anything. I hope you know that. This John stuff just takes up a lot of time. But it doesn’t mean I’ve forgotten about you.”

“If it’s not this, it’s something else. There’s always a new obsession.”

“I’m
obsessive
—you know that!”

“I just miss the days when you used to obsess about me.” He laughed.

I laughed too, relieved the tension had passed.

“Well, the sooner we get this guy out of our lives, the sooner I can go back to obsessing about your life, okay?”

“Sounds like a plan. Has he mentioned meeting with you again?”

“Not yet, but he probably will. I think next time he’ll show up, though.”

“Next time? There’s not going to be a next time.” And the gloves were back off.

“Holy cow, Evan. Dominate much?”

“I’m almost your husband. I should be allowed to have a say in this.”

“But you’re
wrong.
I told you before, the only chance we have to get him out of our lives is if I set up a meeting and they arrest him.”

His voice rose. “And if they don’t? If something goes wrong again? Then what?”

“That’s not going to happen. He’s starting to trust me. I can feel it. He told me more in the last call then he ever has before, and I—”

“You think because he told you about his headaches that you’re safe? That you know everything he’s thinking? You’re not a cop and you’re not a shrink. Or is Nadine telling you to do this too?”

“She’s been helping me figure out what I want to do.”

“What about what I want you to do?”

“What are you saying, Evan?”

“I’m saying that if you meet with him, I’d have to really think about our relationship and how important it is to you.”

“You’re not serious?”

“You’re endangering your life, Sara.”

“You endanger your life every time you go out on the boat.”

“That’s not the same thing and you know it.”

“I can’t believe you just threatened me.”

“I didn’t threaten anything, it’s just how I feel—”

“Well, maybe I need to think about this relationship too.” And I hung up. I stared at the phone for a long time, waiting for Evan to call back.

But he didn’t. So I called Billy.

*   *   *

He came over right away, bearing coffees and donuts.

“Cops and donuts? Isn’t that some sort of cliché?”

He patted his trim waist. “And me watching my diet.”

I laughed, pulled the donut box close and looked in, didn’t take one.

He said, “You want to talk about it?”

“I just hate all of this. Feeling like I have to choose.”

“It’s a tough choice.”

“I know it’s selfish of me to want Evan to support everything I do, but he practically threatened to end our relationship.”

Billy’s eyebrows shot up. “Yikes.”

“I mean, am I wrong here?”

“You’re the only one who can answer that question, Sara. I think it comes down to what you can live with. Or whether you can live with yourself.”

“That’s the thing. I couldn’t stand it if John kills another person. So how do I live through the summer—or any summer? Every weekend I’m going to be a mess wondering if he’s done it again. And how am I supposed to have a wedding if I’m looking over my shoulder every ten seconds?”

He nodded. “I hear you. It was the same for me with my ex. She wanted an average guy, but I couldn’t just cuddle on the couch watching TV when there was a killer on the loose. I always had to see it to the end.”

“That’s totally how I feel. I started this, so it’s up to me to end it.” I felt another wave of anger at Evan. Why couldn’t
he
understand?

Billy said, “I brought a copy of
The Art of War
over for you—it’s in the truck. But maybe you just need to take a break from everything for a little while.”

“How am I going to do that?”

“We could start by going for a drive? Get out and talk for a bit?”

“I don’t know, Ally’s at school and I have so much to do around here.…”

“Are you actually going to do any of it?”

“Probably not.” I sighed. “Sure, let’s go.”

*   *   *

We drove around for close to an hour, just drinking coffee and talking about nothing in particular. We didn’t discuss my fight with Evan. It’s got to be hard when they know he’s trying to stop me from helping them, but all Billy said was that he could understand why Evan was having such a hard time. On the way home, I flipped through
The Art of War
and noticed he’d highlighted some of the quotes—a few were even circled.

He glanced at me. “The strategies can be used for everything—politics, business, managing conflicts, you name it. And they can be applied to any investigation. John’s case is a perfect example. This book could be the key to finally stopping him.”

“It just looks like a lot of quotes.”

“But each one is brilliant. To give just one example, ‘It’s not about planning; it’s about quick and appropriate responses to changing conditions.’ That’s exactly how a cop needs to think.” His dark eyes glowed as they met mine. “If more members of the RCMP read this book we’d have a lot more convictions.”

“You should write your own book.”

“I’ve actually been working on something for a few years—how
The Art of War
can be used in police work. ‘Victory belongs to the man who can master the stratagem of the crooked and the straight.’”

“That’s so cool!”

He glanced at me. “Yeah?”

“Totally.” If he was going to use military strategies to get John out of my life, I was all for it. This case needed someone who was willing to go the extra mile. Then I thought about Sandy. How far would she go to catch John?

*   *   *

The rest of the way home Billy told me all about his book. By the time he dropped me off, my anger had cooled and I was feeling horrible about my reaction to Evan on the phone earlier. I was also feeling pretty bad about taking off with Billy. I knew it was nothing, but would Evan?

My mind filled with panicky images of Evan moving out, of having to sell the house, of canceling the wedding, of Ally sobbing and having weekend visits with Evan, of lonely nights filled with the knowledge that Evan was the best thing that ever happened to me and I lost him. As soon as I walked in the door I e-mailed all our wedding invitations. Then I tried to call Evan, but his cell was off. I didn’t leave a message—I didn’t know what to say.

*   *   *

When Evan called later that night I was working in the shop. My stomach lurched and I took a deep breath before answering. Here we go.

He said, “Hey, baby. I’m sorry about earlier, I was being a dick. It’s just that this guy is bad news and I don’t think you get how dangerous he is.”

I let out my breath. We were going to be okay.

“I do, Evan. Of course I do. And I really hope you didn’t mean what you said about our relationship, because I sent out our invitations.” I laughed.

Evan was quiet. My chest tightened.

I said, “Okay, now you’re scaring me.”

“You scare me, Sara. I want to marry you and make a life with you—I love you—but you’re putting yourself and Ally in danger. I want to protect you, but you don’t listen to me.”

“Since when do I have to obey everything you say? I’m not a dog.” I laughed, but he didn’t.

He said, “You know that’s not what I mean. I don’t want you to meet with him again. I don’t know how much clearer I can make it. I didn’t even want you to talk to him in the first place.”

“I know that, Evan. But I’m trying to tell you I can’t keep living my life in limbo. It’s killing me.”

“Sara. Just do it. Meet with John. I don’t care anymore. But I have to go to bed. I have a long day tomorrow.”

“Wait, Evan. I want to talk about this—”

“No, you don’t. Your mind is made up and you just want me to be okay with it. But it doesn’t matter how many different ways you say it, I’m not okay with it. Talking about it is a waste of energy.”

“I need to know
we’re
going to be okay, if I do this.”

“I don’t know, Sara.”

I was crying now. “You and Ally are the most important people in the world to me, Evan. I don’t want to lose you, but I’m losing myself. I can’t eat, sleep, anything. I’m a mess. Can’t you see that?”

“Just make a decision.” He sounded resigned.

He said good night and I whispered it back through my tears, then pulled on one of his T-shirts and climbed into bed. I couldn’t imagine a life without Evan—didn’t
want
a life without him. But if I didn’t end this thing with John soon my relationship was going to die regardless because I was spiraling out of control. Either way I was ruined.

Evan was right, I had to make a decision and I knew what it was going to be. There was only one way out. Then my life could return to normal. I just prayed Evan was still going to be a part of that life.

*   *   *

The next morning John called my cell when I was taking Ally to school. This time I tried something different.

“Hi, John, I’m just driving Ally, but I’ll call you back as soon as I can.”

“But I want to talk.” He sounded startled.

“Great, because I really want to discuss some of the stuff we talked about the other day.”

“I can’t leave the cell on. But I need—”

“Okay, just give me a call back in a half hour on my home line.” I hung up.

I held my breath, expecting him to call right back, but he didn’t. Billy called to tell me John was near Williams Lake again and they had every available officer out on the roads. Exactly a half hour later John called my landline. While he bragged about tracking a black bear through a marsh that morning, I debated whether I should wait for him to mention another meeting or bring it up myself. As he started describing how he gutted the bear, then dragged the two-hundred-and-fifty-pound carcass out of the bushes without breaking a sweat, I interrupted.

“It’s got to be hard to shoot a bear. I’d be scared I’d miss and he’d come after me.”

“I never miss.” His voice turned angry. “Every year I come across injured bears out in the woods because of some amateur. If I can’t get a solid shot right behind the ear and straight into the brain, I don’t pull the trigger. Most hunters, they get excited, then they jerk up at the last minute and—”

“Wow, that’s really interesting. It’s too bad we didn’t get to meet. I would sure like to hear some of these stories in person.”

“Great minds think alike! I was just going to suggest another meeting—you can bring Ally.”

“I don’t know.… Maybe it should just be me the first time. She might say something to Evan. But I can bring pictures of her?”

“Yeah, yeah, bring pictures. That would be great.” I shuddered at the idea of him touching a photo of Ally.

He said, “So when do you want to meet?”

“When were you thinking?” My mouth went dry.

“I need to get away. It’s getting warm out.” His voice was angry again. “People are starting to camp and they throw their trash into the woods and turn their radios up so loud you can’t hear yourself think.”