She said, “It isn’t, though.”
“Here’s the thing, okay?” He hit a stoplight, so he had a few seconds to tell her the most important part, before they were back on the road again. He turned in his seat so he could face her. “Even if it’s not a coincidence, that’s not on you. It’s not on me, either. The bad things that happened to Sheila Beckmeyer and Janette Gilman are not your fault.”
“They kind of are…?”
“No. They are absolutely not. Whoever this guy is, all the blame is squarely on his shoulders, not yours. Not mine. He’s the one out there, wreaking havoc. You and me… we’re just trying to rein him in.” Grady sat back again and glared through the windshield like he could force the light to change with the power of his mind.
It worked. The light changed. He turned his attention to driving again, just in time to not run over a jogger who darted into the crosswalk against the light. He slammed the brakes and swore, then pulled out into the intersection.
Leda put her knees back up on the dashboard and settled in, looking tired and unhappy. “Then we really need to get moving. Who knows how many more people he plans to attack.”
“I don’t think he planned to attack any of them. He’s a murderous free radical, that’s all. He’s bouncing from victim to victim, from scene to scene…” Grady lost track of his train of thought. “Hey, you want some coffee? It’s…” He checked the dash. “Almost seven. Coffee places are open by now. Can I buy you a cup?”
“Sure, I guess.”
“Got any ideas? Anything in Columbia City?” he pushed, wanting to distract her from the thought that she had had a hand in getting people hurt.
“Yeah, I’ve got a place.”
Half an hour later, they were free of morning traffic and wending through the south-end neighborhoods that would take them back to Leda’s home turf. They pulled up to the curb near the travel agency office and walked around the corner to a small, bustling establishment that was more of a corridor than a shop. People stood in a tight line that doubled back on itself and almost out the door.
“At least it isn’t raining,” Leda said as she took up a position at the end.
“Small blessings. This place is pretty popular, huh?”
“They do a waffle bar, for breakfast people who want more than a bagel or Danish.”
He said, “Ooh!” because that sounded great, actually.
But Leda didn’t look hungry. She looked wrung out.
So he said, “Maybe I’ll try that next time I’m out here.”
When they reached the counter, Leda left to grab the last table while Grady ordered. He joined her shortly, with two tall cups of black coffee in tow. Without a word, Leda reached into the sweetener tub and grabbed every yellow packet present. She tore them all with one rip and dumped the contents into her cup.
He sipped his coffee straight, the way God intended.
When Leda had stirred everything to her liking and downed about half the resulting brew, she finally said, “I needed this. The coffee I mean. Not the guilt of having contributed to the misfortune of others.”
“I told you—”
She cut him off there. “I know. Rationally, I know you’re right. But it’s hard not to feel some culpability here.”
“I understand, but there’s only one thing that’ll make you feel better about that.”
“Oh yeah? What?”
He said, “You help me catch the bad guy and hold him accountable. Once we catch him, he can’t hurt anybody else. Accidentally, or on purpose.”
“I’m doing what I can. I touched the dead lady and everything!” She took another long swig of her coffee, even though it had to be hot. She grimaced and wiped her nose on the sleeve of her sweater. The sun was finally up, but the light was watery and gray, and Leda clearly had no intention of rising or shining. “That’s weak, man. That’s really weak. Even if we do catch the guy and send him to jail for life, it won’t do Janette Gilman any good.”
“No, but it’ll save whoever’s next on his list. Look, that’s the nature of this business—there’s a billion variables, and you’re never going to see the whole picture because you’re not God, and you have to get okay with that. You can’t let it get in the way of doing your job.”
“My job is to book travel for people who don’t know how to make phone calls or compare fares online,” she snapped. “If I’d stuck to that job, Janette would still be here. She’d be getting ready for work, or rolling into the office right about now. She wouldn’t be rolling into the morgue.”
He sighed down into his coffee, and steam blew back into his face. “That’s true, and there’s nothing we can do about it. Just like there was nothing we could do about losing your fiancé, and nothing Janette could do about losing Christopher or Kevin. The world is full of things we can’t control. All we can do is keep trying, keep working. Keep investigating until we finally dig down to the truth.”
She snorted softly. “You called this a business. Is that what it really is? A business?”
“It’s a figure of speech, that’s all.”
“If you say so.”
He wanted to throw up his hands, but he only lifted his cup. “I don’t know what you want. I don’t know what to tell you. I appreciate your help—and it is help. I know it’s not easy for you, and I know I’ve asked a lot. You’re free to bail at any time, and you always have been. If you need to cut loose now, I understand. What else can I say?”
“I’m not trying to cut loose,” she said, but her body language said she was thinking about it. She was hunkered over the table, her head hanging low over her coffee, her hands fidgeting with the paper sleeve that kept her fingers from burning.
“Maybe we should take a break from this. It seems like maybe you need some time.”
“Or maybe I’m just not a morning person, did you ever think of that?”
He knew good and well that it wasn’t so simple, but she obviously wanted an excuse, so he shrugged. “Sure, okay. I’m not a morning guy, either.”
“Good. We’re both sad dirtbags before noon. So who are we talking to next?” she asked. “Who’s still alive, and uninjured?”
“Me and you,” he said, a little too quickly, and a little too flippantly. He caught himself before she could finish fashioning a frown that was sure to be positively withering. “And Kim, though I might touch base with her, considering. Maybe she’ll want a police detail at her house.”
“That would be nice. You think she’ll be the next target?”
“No idea. But there’s me, you, Kim, and the employees from Probable Outcomes who came on board at Digital Scaffolding. There were several of them, I forget how many exactly.”
“You said they all alibied out.”
“They did, but alibis are only as good as the investigation at the time—and this is the only hard, tangible connection between the death of your fiancé and the Gilmans. That should be our next angle, if you’re still on board.”
She relaxed her stance and stared past her obscenely sweet coffee instead of down into its depths. “Okay. That’s a good idea. I got distracted by the Beckmeyer break-in, and then this whole thing with Janette—may she rest in peace.” She looked up at him and nodded. “Don’t worry, man. I’m still in. The caffeine is working, and I’m starting to wake up. Let’s get back to work.”