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“What can I say? Living on death’s door has made me reckless.”
He cringed. “Is this morbid sense of humor something I’m going to have to get used to?”
“Maybe. I haven’t’ decided if it suits me yet.”
“Well, thanks for the tip,” he said, reaching for the handle to open the passenger side door. I’ll text or call after I’ve spoken with him.”
“Or…” Rachel said, giving him her best, convincing smile. “I could come with you.”
Jack sighed, reaching out and taking her hand. “I car a great deal about you, so please don’t take what I’m about to say to heart. But… are you crazy?”
“No. But I’m out of the house for the first time in almost three weeks and I really do think this hunch has something to it. And if you really want to be able to get into a mind like this one, what better way than with someone that’s been there. That isactivelythere?”
“Rachel…”
“Just to visit and see if it’s the guy. I don’t have a gun. And I won’t get physical at all.”
When she saw the conflicted look come across his face, Rachel was almost sorry she asked. She could see that he wanted her to come—thatyeswas on the top of his tongue and begging to be spoken. But she also saw the hesitation as well. If he agreed to this and Anderson was to somehow find out, Jack would be in a tremendous deal of trouble.
Still holding her hand, Jack gave it a squeeze and asked: “Do I have your word on that? If I allow you to come along, you’ll only be there as part of the questioning. I don’t want you chasing or running or even standing up out of a chair fast.”
“That’s fair. And as soon as it’s all said and done, I’ll head back home. Grandma Tate will be expecting me back soon, anyway.”
“I assume she has no idea what you’re doing?”
Rachel shook her head. She was both amazed and surprised at just how guilty she was starting to feel.
“Well, let’s take a bureau car. The last thing we need is for your own personal car to be used in a case you’re not even supposed to be on.”
They stepped out of the car together, and as they met at the back, Rachel grabbed him by the arm. “Thanks for this, Jack. It means a lot.”
“Sure. And it’s not just for you, by the way. Trying work a case like this without having you with me…it’s been rough. Still… after the questioning, you’re done.”
“Yes, I promise.”
They left her car and headed down to the basement level, where the bureau sedans were stored. Rachel wasn’t naïve or sentimental enough to fool herself into thinking it felt normal or natural. In fact, she was burdened with the fact that what they were doing was breaking several regulations and, at the end of the day, might end up making things worse for her on more than one level.
CHAPTERTWELVE
Seth Redman’s address was listed in the scant information in the photograph Rachel had taken at the doctor’s office. Redmond lived in a middle-class apartment complex just a few blocks away from downtown. It was a four-story brick tower that blended in with just about every other building on the block. Rows of struggling hedges bordered the front door, and the glass of the door was in need of a good cleaning.
As they walked inside, Jack held the door open for Rachel and gave her a cautious look. She appreciated the concern but also didn't like feeling that he viewed her as a toddler taking her first steps.
“Jack, I’m fine. I’m serious. If I wasn’t, I wouldn’t be here.”
He smiled and said, “You know, I’m not too sure I believe that.”
They took the stairs to the second floor, where Redman’s apartment was located. Being that it was nearly noon, the building was fairly quiet. There was a bit of murmuring from behind some of the doors as people watched daytime game shows and news reports. Other than that, though, there was no activity at all on the second floor.
They came to Redman’s apartment, and Jack made a specific point to stand directly in front of the door and knock. He was trying to crowd the scene, making sure Rachel was out of the line of any potential danger. Again, it was both polite and chivalrous but, in Rachel’s estimation, a bit unnecessary. Of course, given the fact that she wasn’t even supposed to be here, she supposed she had no room to complain.
There was no answer at the door, so Jack knocked again, harder this time. “Mr. Redman?” he called. “If you’re in there, answer the door please.”
Jack stepped back, but again there was no response. Ten seconds passed, then fifteen. Jack reached down to the knob and turned it. To both their surprise, it turned, and the door opened. A very faint aroma of marijuana greeted them—nothing fresh but the ghost of smoke from about a day or so ago.
“I don’t know about this,” he said, looking in. “I mean, it’s the middle of the day. For all we know, he could just be at work.”
“Maybe,” Rachel said. But she also wondered… if he had prostate cancer near the later stages, would Seth Redman even be capable of working?Well, if he’s been killing people with such brutality and strength, it might be possible,she thought.
