“Help me? The tradition where I come from is ‘wash me.’”
Jenna tried to remember where Gary was from, but all she knew was that it wasn’t anywhere in the South. Of course, the tradition here was the same as the one he’d quoted.
“That would make more sense.”
“Maybe it’s a message from someone who feels he can’t afford your services.” Gary’s smile invited her to share his amusement.
For some reason, she couldn’t see the humor in the situation. Maybe it was the result of the long hours she’d put in today. Or—more likely—the result of everything that had happened during the last three. Of second-guessing her own actions and reactions. Just as she was now.
Was this a staff member’s idea of a joke because she’d come across as sympathetic to the killer? Or had it been written in anger by someone else, someone who had taken her research-based explanation about the forces that created such a monster as a defense of his actions.
Someone like Sean Murphy?
However the words had been meant, she could find nothing the least bit amusing about them. “I don’t think that’s the proper avenue for someone seeking pro bono therapy. Or for a co-worker having a laugh at my expense.”
“You think someone here did that?” Gary’s eyes again touched on the scrawl.
“It is a secure lot.”
“Yeah, but…” Realizing she’d been serious, Gary shook his head. His smile had been replaced by a slightly quizzical expression. “You want me to wipe it off?”
Realizing that she was making herself ridiculous, Jenna forced a smile. “I have to get the car washed, anyway. Maybe that was the intent.”
“To get you to wash your car?” His tone had lightened in response to hers. “Think Paul’s been out here nosing around?”
Although Carlisle was a stickler for having the staff present their best faces to the world at all times, the thought of him prowling the parking deck looking for dirty cars was also ridiculous. Pointing that out was obviously Gary’s intent.
“If not Paul, then somebody,” she said. “I get the message.”
Gary laughed. “I’ll let you know tomorrow if I’ve got a similar inscription on mine. You sure you’re okay?”
“I’m fine. Just tired. I’m going home to a long, hot bath and a tall drink.” Something that was getting to be a habit. “I have no idea why this…” She stopped, refusing to admit how much the writing had bothered her.
“Everybody’s on edge right now. With good reason. God, you weren’t thinking—” He stopped, realizing that was exactly what she’d been thinking. “Look, this is somebody’s idea of a joke. A stupid one, granted, but…You can’t really think he did this.”
“I think maybe someone who was angered or annoyed by what I said in the interview decided to mock what I do.”
“Why would anyone have been angered by your interview?”
“Did you hear it?”
“Just the part about the killer.”
The clip they’d played over and over. The one without her take on holiday depression.
“Did you think I came across as sympathetic?”
“You came across as a professional discussing someone who’s obviously mentally ill. And doing it in a reasoned manner.”
“And if you weren’t a psychologist? How would it have come across to you then?”
His hesitation was slight, but it was enough. “Look, I don’t—”
“That’s what I was afraid of,” Jenna said, her words strained and flat. “Thanks for trying, though.”
“You can’t let yourself be held hostage to the morons of the world. If you do, then they win. You said nothing wrong, Jenna. Believe me, nobody here thinks so.”
That at least sounded genuine. It didn’t explain the writing on her car, but it did make her feel marginally better about who might have put it there.
“You want me to follow you home?” Gary asked.
“I appreciate the offer, but I have a couple of things to pick up on the way. I’ll be fine. Really.”
“Everybody’s feeling the pressure. I honestly don’t mind following you, even on your round of errands. We could stop and grab a bite to eat. Or get a head start on that drink you mentioned.”
She was a little surprised by the offer. Although Gary had been a member of the practice for well over a year, she’d gotten no vibes that he found her attractive.
Maybe he didn’t. Maybe he was being kind because it was obvious she’d been upset by the message. She was reading more into the gesture than it warranted.
“That’s really very sweet, but…maybe I can get a rain check. Some night when we haven’t both been working late.”
“You got it.”
Jenna couldn’t tell if he was relieved or disappointed. As he made the agreement, he’d stepped forward, reaching for the door handle of the Honda.
She realized that she hadn’t punched the remote. The accompanying beep when she did echoed through the nearly empty deck, just as her footsteps had.
Gary opened her door, and she slipped into the seat, using the excuse of fastening her seat belt to delay looking up at him. When she did, he was peering down into the car, his lips slightly pursed.
“Lock your doors.”
“You think—”
“I think I’d tell any woman in this city the same thing right now. Better safe than sorry.”
Unsure how to respond, she nodded. “I will.”
“Be careful,” he added, closing the door. He put the tips of the fingers of his right hand against the glass for a moment before he straightened, allowing her room to back out.
She inserted the key and started the engine. Then she looked out through the window to smile at him again. Before she put the car into Reverse, she lifted her hand and waved.
He didn’t return the gesture, but he stood watching as she headed toward the exit. When she looked back, just before she began the descent to the lower level, he was still standing in the same spot. And he was still watching her.
Six
Sean came awake with a start, neck muscles straining as his head jerked up off the pillow. His breath rasped in and out of his lungs as if he’d run a race.
He had. One he’d lost a long time ago. One at which he would never get a second chance.
