The Tower

Meanwhile, his mind was filled with details from the case. He didn't like the way it felt right now, as if he was chasing and not getting any closer. The leads had dried up and he didn't have much to show for them. It had been nine days since Allander's escape. With the entire state of California watching him, he was standing by while the body count rose.

"I feel terrible for McGuire," Travers said.

Jade shrugged.

"I mean, imagine. A wife dead and both children permanently impaired."

He shrugged again.

"Jade, for Christ's sake, his sons' eardrums got blown out. I mean, we should really try to do something for him."

"Why don't we get him tickets for the symphony?" he suggested coldly, looking down at his meal again.

Travers's jaw tightened, and there was a long silence.

"I don't get why he doesn't fuck them," Jade finally said, his voice loud in the relative quiet of the restaurant. A couple of people at nearby tables turned to stare.

Travers cleared her throat. "Fuck… them, Jade?" she repeated quietly after the waiter dropped off the check.

"The kids. I mean, he's a victim of child abuse himself, and an early sexual offender. Why would he stop now when he's got ample opportunity?"

"What do you think?"

"I don't know. Sexual insecurity, maybe even impotence."

The waiter came up in his white starched shirt and rubbed his hands together. "Can I take that?" he asked, pointing delicately at the brown check folder.

"Uh, we're not quite ready yet," Travers answered.

"Could be he's just waiting to direct all his sexual energy toward his mother. Building up for the rape, you know." His last remark drew another stare from a woman at the next table.

"We have to prevent it. We just have to stop it."

"Well, no shit, Travers. I think we're doing everything we can." Jade picked up his water glass and looked into it with one eye.

The waiter returned with a half bow. "Hello again, do you think I could-"

Jade didn't even look over at him. "I believe we said WE'RE NOT READY YET!" The waiter blinked several times, backing away.

Travers took a deep breath, trying to contain her anger. "You know, Marlow, I don't get you."

"And that's a news flash?"

"You act like no one should care about the people affected by this case, no one should care about the victims. Like it's not okay to feel badly about this. To get upset." Her voice was rising and her cheeks were flushed. People in the restaurant were again glancing at their table. "Like it's all a big fucking game. We can't ever talk like we give a shit about anyone, let's just use them as bait." She pushed her hair off her forehead. "We have a responsibility to these people, Jade."

"Responsibility?" Jade said. "You want to talk to me about responsibility?" The veins in his neck were bulging, though he was speaking softly. His upper lip peeled back in a grimace. "You think I don't care about these people? You don't think it's hard for me to make a decision to put people in the line of fire? Well grow up, Travers. I do these things because they have to be done. I make these decisions because no one else will. So don't you second guess me, and don't you talk to me about responsibility."

Travers took a sip of water. "Nice speech."

Jade looked away for a long time. "It's like you think I enjoy it. Putting people like Thomas and Darby at risk. And the kids, Christ, the kids…" His voice trailed off again. "I just can't deal with that if I'm gonna do my job." He drew a line on the table with his hand. "It's too much. It's all too much."

Travers leaned forward and laid her hand across Jade's. "Jade. I didn't… it doesn't seem… I guess the only thing I've seen you give off is anger."

The tension eased from his face, and he raised his eyes to Travers's. "Maybe guilt turns to anger if you hold on to it long enough," he said. For one awful instant, Travers thought he was going to spill tears. Seeing his face now, she realized what it was about Jade that made him so committed, so intense.

He stood suddenly, pulling money from his pocket and tossing it on the table. Then, without speaking, he turned and walked out of the restaurant. Travers closed her eyes for a moment before rising and following him.

It was raining, a thick downpour, but instead of walking to the car, he headed across the field toward the hill behind the restaurant, ignoring Travers when she called after him. She caught up with him behind the cafe.

Grabbing him by the arm, she spun him around, planting him firmly against the back wall. Water dripped off the roof and ran over his face, dripping from his hair to his forehead and down off his lips.

"I'm talking to you," she said.

"What?"

"I wanted to fucking apologize, all right?"